Chapter 80
Lila
I woke to the sound of my own breathing. Shallow. Steady. Alive.
The air smelled like rosemary and smoke, the faint tang of antiseptic salve lingering just beneath it. My body was a patchwork of ache and numbness, like someone had stitched me back together with cold thread and firelight.
I didn’t move yet. Just stared at the ceiling–vaulted, ornate, unfamiliar. The royal infirmary?
I recognized the soft cotton of the sheets, the faint creak of the leather chair nearby. The pillow smelled like warm herbs and him.
Damon had been here.
I turned my head slightly. The hearth burned low. A steaming teacup sat untouched on the bedside table, faint curls of warmth still rising from its rim.
My throat tightened.
The last thing I remembered clearly was his arms around me. The sound of his voice, raw and shaken. The scent of blood and salt and the spice of him. The heat of his mouth on my neck.
The bond.
My fingers drifted toward the mark. The skin was tender there, humming faintly like a second heartbeat.
Before I could fall fully into that memory, it hit me. A clawing pressure. Tight and invasive. My stomach turned.
Henry’s mind–link slammed open with a familiar sharpness, like a wire pulled taut and then yanked without waming.
“You’ve been busy.” His voice was smooth. Amused. Rotting beneath the polish.
I tensed, pushing myself up slowly with one elbow, “You’re early.”
“You’re late. I expected word days ago.”
I didn’t answer.
“Do you know how hard it was to even get Elena invited to this selection? You embarrassed me.”
“You blackmailed me.”
“Semantics.” A pause. “Let’s get to the point–are you crawling back yet, or have you sunk your teeth into the Lycan King deep enough to matter?”
I clenched my jaw. “I want news of my mother.”
“Hmm.” He sounded bored. “She’s stable. Miraculously. Care was continued… this time.”
My gut twisted. “Why?”
“Because you’re still useful, Lila.” His voice turned hard. “No council seat. No leverage. You’re a broken tool, but you can be fixed. Stop acting like prey and hunt me that alliance, that seat.”
My hands curled into fists under the blanket. He always knew how to cut deep.
“I’m not your tool.”
I could hear his smirk like it was pressed against my ear and I shut the link off. Hard.
Chapter 80
The pressure vanished instantly, leaving behind a ringing silence in my skull. But it didn’t feel like peace. It felt like a seram waitin to reste
Ruby stirred Inside me, low and growling. We should’ve bitten him before we left.
“I would’ve gone for the throat,” I whispered, my breath trembling on the way out.
I leaned back into the pillows and stared at the canopy above me, wondering how long I’d
- me.
I have to keep surviving the men who thought they could use
I dozed off again–brief, restless sleep filled with fragmented memories and phantom pain.
The knock at the door was gentle, almost hesitant; I thought I dreamt it until it came again, sharper.
“Come in,” I said, voice rasping from disuse.
Emma stepped inside with a small bundle cradled in her arms–warm bread wrapped in a cloth napkin, a pair of soft socks, and what looked like a sealed letter she never got around to delivering. Her smile was tight at the edges.
“I didn’t know what to bring,” she said, setting the bundle on the table beside the untouched tea. “I figured you’d be sick of broth.”
I gave a small huff that was almost a laugh. “You figured right.”
She pulled the chair beside the bed closer and sat, folding her hands in her lap.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. She looked around the room like she was avoiding my face–tracing the lines of the hearth, the neat stack of linens, the chair Damon had sat in.
Then her gaze finally settled on me.
“I couldn’t get anything out of anyone,” she said softly. “Just that you were hurt. That the King found you.” Her eyes drifted to the mark at my neck. “And I, uh… found the letter.”
I swallowed. It would’ve been easier to lie. To smooth it over. But I was too tired. Too raw. And she didn’t deserve silence.
“I’m not Elena,” I said.
The words filled the space like a stone tossed in still water.
Emma blinked. “1–why?”
“My name is Lila,” I continued. “Elena is my half–sister. We share a father, if you can even call him that. She was supposed to come here. To compete.”
Emma’s brows furrowed. “But you-”
“My father forced me. She… well, she’s kind of a bitch and he… made me take her place.”
I could see her putting it together–the nights I hesitated when people mentioned my Pack, the cracks in my knowledge, the quiet! wore to keep people
away.
“You lied to me,” she said quietly.
“I didn’t want to. I didn’t mean to lie to you.” My voice caught. “But I couldn’t tell anyone. Not with what he was threatening.”
Emma’s jaw tightened. “So all this time-”
“I was trying to survive.”
She stood slowly, smoothing the front of her dress. “And you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. Even after everything.
15.04 wed,
Chapter 80
“I wanted to. I tried-”
“But you didn’t.” That landed harder than any of Henry’s words.
“I know,” I whispered. “I know.”
She reached for the bundle she’d brought, then paused. Her fingers hovered, then curled into a fist.
“We were supposed to have each other’s backs.”
“I still do,” I said, though my voice was hoarse, thin. It didn’t sound convincing.
“I don’t know what hurts more,” she said. “That you lied, or that I didn’t see it.”
Tears welled in my eyes, there was nothing I could say that wouldn’t sound like begging.
い
Emma stepped back. “I need some time,” she said. “I care about you, but I don’t know what to do with this… I’m just… glad you’re okay.”
There was something unfinished in her tone. A goodbye that didn’t quite get voiced. A bruise that hadn’t yet formed.
She turned toward the door and left me with her care package. I stared at the fresh bread and the folded socks.
Then I curled on my side, gritting my teeth against the tears. But they came anyway.
And I let them.