Chapter 48

The darkness is thick, swallowing Ana whole. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been moving—minutes? Hours? The steady rhythm of footsteps echoes in her ears, but her mind is racing too fast to focus.

The golden-eyed man carries her effortlessly, his grip firm but not painful. Every time she struggles, he tightens his hold just enough to remind her that escape isn’t an option.

“Elijah,” she growls, forcing steel into her voice. “Tell me where you’re taking me.”

Elijah’s footsteps slow. “Somewhere quiet,” he says smoothly. “Where no one will interrupt us.”

A sharp wave of unease ripples through her.

“You mean somewhere Julian won’t find me,” she spits.

Elijah smirks, stepping into the dim glow of a chandelier hanging from above. The light casts eerie shadows over his face, accentuating the sharpness of his features. “Julian won’t find you because he won’t be looking.”

Ana freezes.

“What does that mean?”

Elijah doesn’t answer immediately. He gestures with a flick of his wrist, and the golden-eyed man drops her—unceremoniously—onto a velvet chaise. She gasps at the sudden loss of support, glaring up at her captor.

He doesn’t meet her gaze.

“Elijah.” Ana’s voice shakes. “What did you do?”

Elijah sighs, feigning disappointment. “You think so little of me.”

She stares at him.

He smiles. “Julian won’t come because he believes you left on your own.”

Ana’s breath catches.

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” Elijah says simply, perching on the arm of the chaise like a predator settling in to watch its prey. “Because I made sure he saw exactly what he needed to.”

Her stomach churns.

“What did you show him?” she demands.

Elijah’s smirk sharpens. “A note. In your handwriting. A message that told him exactly what he always feared: that you finally chose someone else.”

Ana’s heart slams against her ribs. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

She clenches her fists. “He wouldn’t believe it.”

Elijah chuckles, shaking his head. “You underestimate how much doubt already lived inside him.” He leans forward, eyes gleaming. “Julian has spent centuries waiting for you to turn away from him. All I did was give him the final push.”

The words strike her harder than she wants to admit.

Because a part of her knows—it’s possible.

Julian had already been distant. Already broken in ways she couldn’t understand. What if… what if Elijah is right?

What if Julian truly believes she’s gone?

“No,” she whispers, shaking her head. “He’ll come.”

Elijah hums, unconvinced.

Ana forces herself to meet his gaze. “If you’re so sure he won’t, why am I still here? Why keep me?”

Something flickers in his expression.

“Elijah.” She presses. “What do you want from me?”

For a long moment, he says nothing.

Then—

“I want you to remember.”

Ana swallows hard. “I do remember.”

“Not enough,” Elijah murmurs.

A chill prickles at her skin.

“Elijah,” she starts, but he suddenly moves—too fast for her to react.

One second, he’s perched on the chaise. The next, he’s towering over her, his fingers gently tilting her chin up.

Her breath catches.

His eyes search hers, something old and unreadable lurking behind them.

“You weren’t always his,” Elijah whispers.

Ana’s body locks up.

Her mind screams at her to move, to push him away, but something about his voice—his words—roots her to the spot.

Because deep down…

A part of her knows.

Knows that whatever he’s about to say next—

She’s not ready to hear it.