Chapter 22
Elodie’s POV
The moment Mila’s arms wrapped around me, I almost broke. It had been a month since I’d seen her, but the second she pulled me into her hug, something inside me caved.
“Elodie!” she whispered like she’d been holding my name on her tongue for weeks.
I managed a faint smile, hugging her back tighter than I meant to. “Took you long enough p>
But my voice cracked on the words.
We sank onto the couch, trying to fall back into that easy rhythm we’d always had, but nothing about me was easy anymore. My chest felt like it had been carved open, and no matter how much I tried to keep it together, grief had a way of leaking through the cracks.
She reached for my hand, her eyes clouded with guilt. “God, El… I’m so sorry about this mess. I should never have told him where you were. What the hell was I thinking p>
I squeezed her fingers gently. “Don’t. Don’t do that to yourself.” I forced a shrug. “If you hadn’t told him, Calhoun would’ve just sent someone to track me anyway. Better it happened the way it did. A clean break hurts less than being dragged through it slowly p>
The lie tasted like ash on my tongue. There was nothing clean about the way it ended. Nothing clean about the way he had ripped my heart out of my chest, stomped on it, then dared to look at me like he owned the pieces.
Mila didn’t look convinced. Her jaw clenched like she wanted to argue, but instead her gaze flicked past me. My stomach twisted before I even turned. I didn’t need to. I could feel it, the heavy pull of his stare.
Calhoun. He was across the room, pretending not to look, but I knew better.
His wolf was restless, I could sense it. Every line of his body screamed that he was memorizing me, hoarding every detail, like he had any right left to.
I hated him for it. I hated myself more for the way my heart still stuttered under his gaze.
Mila’s voice cut through, not caring if Calhoun overheard or not. “Real talk, El… if Carmela had never come back, would you and my brother have ended up together p>
The air froze.
I looked at Mila, then at him. His attention snapped toward me like the words were life or death. His jaw tightened, his hands fisted at his sides, his eyes desperate, hungry for an answer that could rewrite history.
If Carmela hadn’t shown up, would I still be his?
The truth hit me so hard that my heart slightly caved in. I had asked myself that question a thousand times in the silence of my apartment, in the moments when my chest ached so bad I couldn’t breathe. But now, standing here, with him watching me like I was the last breath of air in a burning room, I knew.
No.
Because if it hadn’t been Carmela, it would have been someone else. Another distraction. Another storm he let sweep me aside. His sudden desperation now wasn’t love, it was panic. Panic that he’d lost control of me.
I pushed my hair back, steadying my voice even as my heart bled. “Not a chance p>
The words came out flat, and final.
His face faltered, a crack splitting through the mask he always wore. For once, Calhoun Damaris, Alpha, billionaire, untouchable, looked human. Broken.
And it wrecked me.
But I didn’t take the words back. I couldn’t. If I let even an inch of softness slip through, I’d crumble right back into him. And I wouldn’t survive that a second time.
Nobody asked me why. They didn’t need to. The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on. Mila’s hand was still in mine, and Calhoun’s stare burned into my skin like a brand I’d never escape.
But I held my ground.
Because loving him had already cost me everything.
Mila dragged me back to our Pack in New York like I was half-dead, and maybe I was. I didn’t fight her. I didn’t fight anything. My body moved, but my wolf had gone silent, buried beneath the wreckage of what I’d done.
The empire was bleeding. The Damaris name, once untouchable, was now hanging by threads, contracts collapsing, stock falling. I sat in my office like a ghost while my sister stepped into the fire to salvage what she could. She should’ve hated me. Maybe she did. But she stayed.
A folder landed in front of me with a dull thud.
“Found something,” Mila said, her voice flat. “Figured you should know before you drown yourself any further p>
My hands shook as I pulled it open. Photographs. Documents. Receipts. Carmela’s whole European history laid out in black and white. Not studying. Not building a future. No… but just men. Parties. Yachts. Several erased pregnancies.
The girl I thought I once loved was totally unrecognizable. Or maybe she’d always been this and I was the blind fool who painted her as pure.
I stared at the pictures until my vision blurred, waiting for rage, for jealousy, for some shred of love to stir. Nothing. Just emptiness. A flatline in my chest.
When I closed my eyes, it wasn’t Carmela I saw. It was Elodie. Always Elodie. Her laugh. Her tears. The way she’d stayed late at the office, coffee in hand, looking at me like I was worth saving. Every memory of her carved deeper into me until I couldn’t breathe.
And the cruelest thought of all, ten years from now, would she fade too? Would even her face blur into nothing if I let time keep dragging me forward? My stomach twisted at the idea. I couldn’t lose her twice.
“I’ll get myself together,” I rasped, though my voice was nothing but broken gravel. I forced my eyes to Mila, forced a smile that wasn’t a smile at all. “But first, I owe you something p>
Before she could ask, I raised my hand and slammed it across my face with every ounce of strength I had left. The crack echoed through the office, so loud as a gunshot. Pain exploded, my skin stinging hot, blood flooding my mouth.
“Calhoun!” Mila’s eyes widened in horror.
I spat blood onto the floor and met her stare, unflinching. “For hitting you over Carmela. That was my sin. We’re even now p>
She looked at me like I was a stranger. Her eyes softened, but she didn’t know whether to hold me or hate me. In the end, she just sighed, her voice trembling. “Don’t do this to yourself again. Maybe one day you’ll meet someone else. Just… try not to burn yourself alive next time p>
Her hope stabbed deeper than her disappointment. I didn’t correct her. Let her cling to illusions. I already knew the truth. There would never be anyone else. Elodie was the beginning and the end. And I’d destroyed her.
When she left, silence pressed me down in the office like a coffin lid. My hands moved slowly, methodically, gathering the photos of Carmela like I was gathering evidence at a trial. My wolf inside me stirred then, restless, teeth bared. Not for grief this time, but vengeance.
I stood. The air in the office suddenly felt suffocating, stale. My steps carried me not upward, but down the stairs. Always down.