Elena's POV
He stood in the doorway, every inch the Alpha– broad-shoulder, impeccably dressed in a charcoal-colored suit that fit like it was stitched onto his skin.
His silver-blue eyes met mine, cool and unreachable.
The world should have tilted,slowed, maybe even stopped–like they say it does when soulmates meet.
But all I felt was cold.
A chill that knitted itself through my bones, settling deep.
"Elena," Damien said softly, his voice a low rumble against the thick stillness.
I crossed my arms over my chest, my apron still dusted with flour. "Damien."
And then she followed him in, like she had a very right —Vivian Monroe, blonde and smug, her manicured hand resting on her belly in a gesture that was theatrical and possessive.
She moved with the slow, deliberation grace of one who was used to being admired.
Her perfume hit first– an expensive and sickly sweet, making my stomach turn before she even spoke.
"You did not tell me your Luna runs a restaurant," she said brightly, voice coated in a false sugar inflected with sarcasm as her eyes scanned the room with contempt. "How adorable."
She said Luna like it was a borrowed title. Like something temporary, something fragile.
Like it wasn't already mine.
Damien shifted awkwardly, his stance caught between duty and discomfort. Has though trying to diffuse the situation
.
"I'm not here to fight,"
he glanced at Vivian. "She just came back to town. She's… an old friend. From before the bloodmoon. She showed up uninvited, and I couldn't just leave her. She had nowhere else to go.
"She's pregnant,"I said flatly, my eyes pinned to his.
His jaw tightened, but he didn't flinch. "Not with my child."
The silence that followed was louder than any lie.
"She said she was abandoned. Alone. I thought I was doing the right thing," he continued, husky and penitent.
"You know me, Elena. I'd never chase away someone who's. vulnerable."Vulnerable? The woman was far from vulnerable."You took her to the house," I reiterated slowly. "To our packhouse. To our home. Without talking to me."He paused. A silence. The one that speaks louder than a dozen apologies ever could.
Vivian moved forward, she smiled curved and bright, like a dagger disguised as a compliment.
"I'm sorry about what happened earlier. She purred. "The complaint and all."
Pregnancy and hormones. You know how it is — I've been so emotional lately."
She laid her hand dramatically over her chest. "You understand, don't you, Elena?"
She spoke my name as if we were old classmates sharing an inside joke. As if she didn't just disparage my food as being lower than hers in a mere ten minutes.
I kept quiet. And she didn't stop.
"Oh!" she gasped as if struck by a sudden innocent thought. "Earlier while I was waiting in the car Damien ran into the bathroom I found a box in his backpack."
She pulled it from her pulse – a pale blue velvet box, small and shining like a secret.
Inside was a necklace.
The necklace.
A moonstone pendant, thin and softly shining even under the fluorescent light of the kitchen.
The same enchanted piece Damien had given me. The one he'd mentioned last night when he'd abruptly left mid-evening of our anniversary dinner.My throat tightened.
"Mine," I whispered, voice weaker than I wanted.
Damien's expression was stunned.
"Elena, I was going to—""She thought it was for her!" Vivian broke in, giggling again as she rubbed the stone now hanging around her neck. "I mean, he's been so sweet, so thoughtful… I just figured. Stupid me.".I glared at the necklace—at her wearing what was rightfully mine—and something inside of me shattered.
"It's already on your neck," I said coldly.
"You can keep it."
"Elena—" Damien approached me, hand outstretched.I backed away.
"You brought a pregnant woman into our home, lied by omission, and let her wear the necklace you promised me on our anniversary, Damien.
"His face fell, guilt sweeping in like the tide.
My hand automatically drifted to my apron pocket. I could sense the gentle pressure of the envelope within. The one I'd carefully folded after visiting the healer.
The one that told me the heartbeat. That I wasn't delusional about the future in my belly.I could prove it to him. I could present it to him and see the burden of it crush the pity out of his eyes.But I didn't act.Instead, I pressed the paper deeper into my pocket.He figured it out.
"What's that?""Nothing," I said, calm voice.
"Elena…"His eyes swept over mine, but before he could prod further, Vivian edged up to him and brushed his arm.It was only a brush.But it was enough.Enough to make something break inside of me.They weren't lovers. Not yet.But on an emotional level? He'd already broken through.And he wasn't even sorry for it.
"I need to get back to work," I said, already turning back.
"Wait—please, can we talk?"
"I told you, I'm working.
"I didn't wait to hear what he had to say next.
I wasn't sure I would be able to.From the edge of my peripheral vision, I saw him nod tightly, jaw set as he turned and led Vivian out of the kitchen. Her heels clicked across the tile like a victory parade.
After they left, the silence returned. And it was deafening.I collapsed onto the prep stool next to the walk-in and hid my face in my hands. My heart was a fraying rope.
And for the first time since the bloodmoon branded us, I didn't know if I wanted to cling.
Fifteen minutes passed, and I found myself in the pantry, pretending to organize spice jar. My phone vibrated against the shelf.
Jules.
I swallowed hard and answer my best friend.I held it, barely managing to suppress the shaking of my hands.
"Hey."
I responded, not wanting to sound as hollow as I did.
"Babe," Jules said, rushing her words, "I didn't know whether or not I should tell you this, but. I just saw Damien.
"My heart stalled."
With a pregnant woman. They drove out of the Thorne compound. She was in the passenger seat.
"I swallowed.
"Where were they going to?"
A pause .
"To your house."
I didn't speak. Couldn't.
"Elena," Jules said softly, "I'm sorry."
I stared blankly at the rack of dried rosemary, lavender, cumin jars. In front of me. They all blurred until they meant nothing at all.
He was bringing her home.