Elena POV
Again.
That same strange number.
My phone buzzed in my hand as I was walking out of the orphanage, and for some reason, my stomach twisted before I even looked. The last time they'd messaged me, it had been some cryptic accusation about Damon cheating. I'd deleted it without answering, furious but refusing to give whoever it was the satisfaction of a response.
But this time… it wasn't just words.
It was an image.
And not just any image—Damon.
He was standing there, or something that looked like him was. His skin seemed darker, his veins more pronounced, his eyes a violent, glowing scarlet that looked more like blood than irises. There were horns curling from his head like something out of an ancient nightmare, sharp and black as obsidian. His hands were covered in blood, dripping onto the floor beneath him.
Below it, in bold crimson letters, were the words:
"He is not your mate. Just a façade."
My heart stopped.
