Chapter 76
Damon's POV
My phone buzzed. Scarlett's name appeared on the screen.
Scarlett: How's your grandpa?
I glanced at Elena sitting stiffly beside me, then back at the screen. Scarlett was still in the hospital and I couldn't be there with her.
Me: Still under observation. Stable for now.
Scarlett: That's great. Don't worry about me, okay? Stay with your family. I'm fine.
Me: You sure? I can come by later—
Scarlett: No need! They need you there. I'll be fine. Just make it up to me later.
I exhaled. She got it. She always got it.
I set the phone down, but my thumb hovered over the screen. This conversation felt... easy. Uncomplicated. Scarlett never made things harder than they needed to be. She didn't make me feel guilty, didn't throw tantrums, didn't make me feel like I was failing.
Unlike—
I glanced sideways at Elena.
She sat like a statue. Hands folded in her lap. Eyes fixed on nothing. The distance between us felt like miles even though our shoulders were barely a foot apart.
When had she gotten so... cold?
My phone buzzed again.
Scarlett: By the way, when can I officially meet your family?
My chest tightened. I typed quickly.
Me: Won't be too long.
The truth was, Grandpa was pressuring me to marry Elena. I didn't dare tell her about this.
No. Not now.
---
Elena’s POV
The adults talked. About business and markets and all the meaningless noise that filled the space between what they actually wanted to say.
I sat frozen, trapped between Damon's indifferent presence and the weight of expectation pressing down from every corner.
Father's voice rose. "Of course, we're optimistic about future collaborations..."
He meant the marriage. The transaction that would save his failing pack.
"Elena."
Randy's voice cut through the noise like a blade.
Everyone fell silent.
"Damon." Randy's hand lifted, trembling. "Come here. Both of you."
Damon moved first. I stayed frozen before Mother's pointed look made me stand.
I walked to the opposite side of the bed, keeping Randy between us.
His hand reached out—gnarled fingers shaking—and I caught it instinctively. His skin was cold.
"Elena," he whispered. His eyes glistened. "You're a good girl. Always have been. So sweet."
My throat tightened.
His gaze shifted to Damon, then back to me. Something hardened. "You can't be with anyone else," he said, louder now. Sharper. "You have to bond with Damon."
The words hit like a slap.
I could read the subtext. He was telling me to stay away from Caleb.
"Grandpa." Damon's voice was calm. Soothing. He reached out, covering Randy's other hand. "Don't get worked up."
But Randy wasn't listening. Without warning, he grabbed Damon's wrist and yanked it toward mine.
His fingers locked around both our hands, pressing them together with bruising force.
Damon's hand was warm against mine. Solid. Familiar.
And wrong.
"Promise me." Randy's voice cracked. "Promise me you'll do what's right."
Finally, he released us. His arm fell back, strength spent. But his eyes never left Damon's face.
"If you'd been against this from the start," Randy said hoarsely, "I would've understood. But you agreed. You said you'd make her your Luna." His breathing grew labored. "You can't throw her away for those... other girls."
The contempt when he said "other girls" was unmistakable.
Damon flinched.
"You need her," Randy continued, voice fading. "She can stabilize you."
He turned to me. His eyes were wet. Pleading.
A long sigh escaped his lips. "I'm just an old wolf who can't shift anymore. Don't know how much time I have left..."
"Grandpa, no—" Damon started.
Randy waved him off. His gaze fixed on me with desperate intensity.
"Elena." His voice broke on my name. "Will you marry Damon?"
---
Randy's question hung in the air like a blade suspended above my throat.
Every pair of eyes in the room locked onto me. The weight of their expectations pressed down on my shoulders, my chest, making it impossible to breathe.
My throat tightened. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. The words jammed somewhere between my lungs and my lips, refusing to form.
Across the bed, Damon's expression was carefully blank, but when he glanced at me, I caught the flicker in his eyes—a strange mix of something else. Discomfort? Resentment?
He didn't want this either. I could feel it from his reaction.
But before I could force out any kind of response, Father's voice cut through the silence like a whip crack.
"Randy, Elena is honored." His tone was smooth, practiced, dripping with false warmth. "She's known since childhood that this is her responsibility. She respects your arrangements."
My head snapped toward him. What?
He wasn't even looking at me. His gaze was fixed on Randy, his smile wide and ingratiating, as if he'd just closed a lucrative business deal.
"She understands the importance of our families' alliance," Father continued, his hand still pressing firmly against my spine. "Of course she's willing."
No.
The word screamed inside my head, but my mouth stayed shut. My body had learned long ago not to contradict him in public. Not to embarrass him. Not to make a scene.
Randy's weathered face softened into a smile. Relief flooded his features. "Good," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. "Good girl, Elena. I knew you'd do the right thing."
"Then it's settled." Randy's voice grew stronger, more authoritative despite his frailty. "We'll hold the engagement ceremony next month. After Elena graduates, you'll complete the formal bonding ritual."
Marcus stepped forward, clapping a hand on Damon's shoulder.
Isabella moved to Randy's other side, her smile warm but her eyes sharp as they swept over me. "We'll begin preparations immediately. Elena, dear, we'll need to discuss dress fittings, venue arrangements—"
The conversation exploded around me. Plans, schedules, guest lists. They talked about me like I was a venue to be booked, a detail to be managed.
Not once did anyone ask me what I wanted.
Not once did anyone notice I hadn't actually said yes.