Chapter 86
Elena's POV
Marcus wasn't protecting his son's happiness. He was protecting the Vance family's reputation—making sure the "legitimate heir" didn't taint their bloodline.
And my father wasn't thinking about my future. He was thinking about survival. About keeping the Cross name from being erased, from falling into the ranks of the displaced and powerless.
I looked at Donald. His expression was carefully neutral, but I saw it now—the desperation underneath. The fear of losing everything. The willingness to trade me like currency.
"I—" Damon started, his voice tight.
"This doesn't concern you yet," Marcus said sharply.
Damon's hands clenched on the armrests. But he said nothing.
Isabella smiled at me, warm and utterly false. "You'll make a beautiful Luna, Elena. And with the bonding complete, you'll have access to everything the Vance family can offer. Security. Status. Protection."
She paused, letting the words settle. Then her tone shifted, just slightly. Just enough to let the threat slip through.
"But if you choose... poorly... you'll have none of that. Caleb can't offer you anything."
My chest tightened. I hated how her words wormed into my mind.
"This is a generous arrangement, Elena," Isabella continued. "You should be grateful."
I felt my father shift beside me, his knee bouncing with barely contained anxiety. He leaned forward.
"Elena understands," Donald said quickly, his voice forced with cheer. "She knows what's at stake. Don't you, sweetheart?"
I couldn't look at him. Couldn't stand the pleading in his eyes, the way he was selling me without flinching.
"We'll need an answer before the next full moon," Marcus said, checking his watch. "Isabella has already started arrangements—venue, guest lists, ritual preparations. If you refuse..."
He didn't finish. He didn't need to.
I felt it then, sharp and nauseating. I wasn't a person to them. I was a role. A function.
My hands trembled in my lap. I pressed them flat against my thighs, willing them to stop.
Across from me, Damon's jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on some point beyond the window. He looked as trapped as I felt.
For the first time, I wondered if he'd ever had a choice either.
---
Damon's POV
The car ride back to Blackwood Manor was silent except for the hum of the engine.
I stared out the window, my reflection ghostly in the glass. My parents sat in the front seats, Marcus's hands steady on the wheel, Isabella scrolling through her phone with a satisfied little smile.
Like they'd just closed a successful business deal.
I guess they had.
We pulled into the driveway, and I was out of the car before it fully stopped. I stalked toward the house, my pulse pounding in my ears.
"Damon." My father's voice, sharp and commanding.
I kept walking.
"Damon."
I spun around. "What the hell was that?"
Marcus's expression didn't change. "That was what benefits the family."
I laughed, bitter and harsh. "You just decided everything without asking me."
"Watch your tone," Marcus said coldly.
Isabella interjected smoothly, stepping between us. "She's the best option. Calm, compatible. Her healing pheromones will stabilize you."
"Stabilize me?" I shook my head, disgust curling in my gut. "Is that all she is to you? A fucking sedative?"
"Damon—"
"What if I don't want to marry her?" I demanded. "What if I choose someone else?"
"You won't," Marcus said flatly.
"You can't control me—"
"I can." Marcus's eyes flashed gold, just for a second. "And I will. This family does not crumble because my son thinks with his cock instead of his brain."
I flinched.
Isabella sighed, her voice softening. "Sweetheart, we're not asking you to give up everything. You can keep your hobbies. Your friends. But the marriage—that's non-negotiable."
"Scarlett—"
"Scarlett," Isabella said sharply. "Her father is a disgrace. She has nothing. No pack. No status. No future." Her eyes hardened. "If you tie yourself to her, you'll destroy everything we've built."
"I don't care—"
"You will care," Marcus cut in, "when the other Alphas start circling. When they see weakness. When they challenge your claim to this family."
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
"Marry Elena," Isabella said softly. "Complete the bond. Give the pack stability. And after that..." She shrugged delicately. "What you do in private is your business."
My stomach turned. "You're telling me to cheat on her."
"I'm telling you to be pragmatic," Isabella said. "This is how it's done, Damon. You think your grandfather was faithful? You think Marcus has been?"
I looked at my father. He didn't deny it.
Right. If he'd been faithful to my mother, that bastard wouldn't exist.
Isabella stepped closer, her hand resting lightly on my arm. "Elena is safe. Controllable. She won't challenge you. And once the mark is set, you'll have everything you need."
"Except what I want."
"You'll learn to want the right things," Marcus said coldly.
I shook my head, stepping back. "I need air."
I turned toward the door.
---
Elena's POV
Long after the Vances left, I sat on the couch, staring at nothing.
My father hovered nearby, wringing his hands. "Elena, say something."
I couldn't.
My brain felt like static. White noise. Every thought I tried to hold onto slipped away like water through my fingers.
"Elena." He crouched in front of me, gripping my knees. "I know this is hard. But it's the right choice. Damon is a good match. You'll be taken care of."
Taken care of. Like I was a pet.
"What do you think?" he pressed.
I looked at him. At the gray creeping into his hair. He looked old. Weak.
The realization didn't make me feel better. It just made everything worse.
"I don't know," I whispered.
"You have to decide soon," Donald said urgently. "Before the next full moon. Marcus won't wait forever."
I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. My father kept talking, but I stopped hearing him.
All I could think was: Is there anyone in this world who actually cares what I want?
And then, unbidden, a face surfaced in my mind.
Caleb.
"Elena?"
I blinked. My father was staring at me, impatient and anxious.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
And then, so quietly I almost didn't recognize my own voice, I said:
"I want to choose Caleb."
The words hung in the air.