Damon
I thrust the parchment list into Ronan’s hands, fingers still trembling with restraint.
“Get this to the healer,” I snapped. “Now. Tell her what it is–tell her who it came from.”
Ronan looked at me, eyes narrowing. “Your Majes-”
“Go.”
He nodded once and disappeared out of the room without another word, boots echoing down the hallway.
I turned back to the woman standing in the middle of the room like she owned it. Ella didn’t try to run. She just watched me, calm as ice, as if the wreckage she’d caused was someone else’s mess.
I took a step toward her, slow and deliberate. My jaw ached from how tightly I clenched it. Rage coiled beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.
I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to exhale, trying not to shift and let Zane take control. Not yet. Not until I had answers.
My wolf paced just beneath the surface, snarling with the need to strike. My nails bit into my palms. I wanted Ella afraid–but she only looked bored.
And that pissed me off.
“She trusted you.” I growled.
“She trusted the familiar,” Ella replied. “There’s a subtle difference. You of all people should understand that.”
I took a menacing step forward.
“What do you really want?” I asked. “You have leverage. Use it before I change my mind about not killing you here and now.”
Her eyes glittered. “Very well.”
She leaned back slightly, relaxing as if we were old friends about to reminisce over wine. “Elena is ready.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised, but the words hit like a slap in the face.
“She is noble. She is unblemished by scandal. And unlike Lila, she has no bloodline to dispute, no shadow of deception trailing her. She is everything the Council hoped for. Everything you were supposed to choose.”
My hands clenched into fists to keep myself from strangling Ella.
She smiled like a cat watching a bird. “Marry my daughter, Damon. The real Elena. Let this entire… detour fall into fond memory. Make Elena Queen, and the court’s unrest dissolves overnight.”
I felt the heat behind my eyes then, not from anger–but from disbelief at the sheer audacity.
“You’re offering me the woman I rejected, albeit have never met,” I said, my voice low, dark. “And you think I’ll say yes because you broke the one I did
choose?”
Ella didn’t blink. “You won’t be the first man who chose strategy over sentiment. Think, Damon. You have a rebellion at your gate and a wounded girl in your bed. The Elders are waiting to turn on you the moment they can. Choose stability”
“I choose her.”
The words left no room for interpretation.
1/3
38 Sun, 6 JULHAD
Chapter 131
Ella sighed, like I was a difficult child. “This isn’t a romantic tale, Your Majesty. You don’t get to love whoever you want not when the Kingdom’s watching.”
“She is my Luna,” I growled.
“Not yet.” That twist of satisfaction in her voice almost made me snap.
I took another step toward her, close enough to smell the bitter herbs still clinging to her sleeve. “If Lila dies because of you, I’ll burn every treaty, every name, every Pack tie to the ground. And you’ll be the first.”
Ella rose gracefully, untouched by the threat. “I didn’t come to argue. I came to offer peace.” She walked toward the door, unhurried.
“Think on it,” she said, glancing back. “Before someone else decides for you.”
Then she was gone.
The moment the door shut behind Ella, I stayed frozen—one hand braced on the mantel, the other clenched so tightly at my side I could feel my pulse pounding in my fingertips.
She wanted to broker peace through a forced marriage. She wanted me to give up Lila and call it just good strategy. As if love was a weakness I couldn’t
afford.
But the worst part wasn’t the offer–it was that she thought it might work.
A knock came minutes later, too crisp to be nervous. Isabella entered without waiting for a reply.
She was all red and black–tailored elegance, perfectly coiffed hair, not a thread out of place. The kind of presence designed to remind everyone in the
room that she was born to wield power, not beg for it.
“My King,” she said with a shallow bow, eyes already assessing the room. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“You always are,” I said evenly.
Her lips curved. “So charming.”
She took Ella’s empty seat without asking. Typical.
“I thought Ella would be here; I’m surprised to find you in her rooms. I assume she made you an offer?” she asked, settling her hands on her lap like this was a diplomatic tea, not another betrayal.
She didn’t wait for my response. “It’s a smart move. The true Elena’s return will silence every critic still whispering about your judgment. She’s noble- born, familiar, obedient.”
“She’s not Lila,” I said.
Isabella tilted her head. “No. She’s not a liar either.”
I moved. In a blink, I was standing over her, my hand flat on the desk between us, the wood creaking under the pressure of my grip.
Isabella tried to hide her flinch. “Threatening me won’t change the court’s mind.”
“I don’t need to change the court’s mind,” I said, my voice ice. “I
Ito remind them who sits on the throne.”
She leaned forward slowly, eyes bright with the kind of hunger that came from proximity to power.
“You’ve been too soft for too long, Damon. The Council senses it. The nobles too. The girl you’ve chosen–she’s brave, yes. But she’s also broken. And broken things don’t inspire loyalty. They inspire mistrust. A lack of confidence.”
My nostrils flared. “She’s not broken.”
Chapter 131
“She will be,” she said simply. “Once the tonic does its work. You saw it already—she’s slipping. The wolf inside her is fading. She’s not fit to rate?
I wanted to strike her. Not physically–but to pull every ounce of influence she had and shatter it like glass.
Instead, I stepped back, forcing air into my lungs. The fire snapped behind me. My control was unraveling by the second.
“Is that the plan?” I aske
quieter now. “You and Ella wait until Lila’s weak enough to discard?”
“No.” Isabella rose then, graceful and deliberate. “We wait until she is weak enough that even you will see the logic in letting her go.”
I stared at her. “I see you. That’s all I need.”
A flicker passed over her face–not doubt, not quite. But something more dangerous; calculation.
“You think that a bond makes you untouchable,” she said. “But all it makes you is predictable.”
She moved to the door, her voice soft now, almost pitying. “When the court moves–and they will–it won’t matter who you say she what they see. And right now, all they see is a weak girl unraveling.”
She opened the door and paused.
“I’d prepare your speech,” she said. “Because if you won’t replace her, you’ll need to convince them not to replace you.”
Then she disappeared into the corridor.
What matters
The room was too still after that. I turned and slammed my fist into the side of the mantel. The stone cracked beneath my knuckles, pain exploding up
my arm.
But it didn’t help.
They were right about one thing–I was predictable. Because there was no world in which I gave her up.
Even if it meant I had to burn it all to the ground.
AD
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