Chapter 149

Damon

Today, everything will be put right.

The scent of blood and smoke was gone from the corridors. In its place, fresh lavender. A reminder that everything had returned to order.

But the weight in my chest hadn’t lifted. I was going to fix that.

I moved down the hall, past the guards who nodded but didn’t speak.

The Luna ring sat heavy in my pocket, small but solid, it was a promise. I would ask my mate to become Luna and complete our bond.

We would both feel better, could move forward, when we finished the bond. The rest would fall into place when she was healed.

I wanted the moment to be right. Not after a battle or a council session, not tangled in politics or duty. Just me and Lila.

But I’d waited too long. Today, everything would be right.

Her door creaked faintly when I opened it. A slant of gold light streamed through the glass, dust catching in the sunbeam. It was warm inside, but the moment I saw her, I felt cold.

She sat in the window alcove, knees drawn to her chest, head resting against the carved window frame.

Her dress pooled around her like she’d forgotten she was wearing it. One hand dangled at her side, fingers limp, barely brushing the sill. Her gaze was fixed on the gardens below, but I doubted she saw them.

Something about her stillness hollowed me.

“Lila,” I said quietly.

She remained still and ignored me, if she heard me at all.

I stepped closer, careful not to move too fast, not to spook the fragile balance in the air. The scent of rosewater lingered faintly, but it was muted, like her.

“I thought you might want to get some fresh air,” I offered. “The gardens are safe now. The south perimeter’s been secured.”

Still nothing from my mate.

I moved to sit beside her, leaving space between us. I reached for her hand, slow and deliberate, letting my fingers brush against hers.

She pulled it away.

My hand hovered in the space she left behind, then slowly lowered to my lap. My heart thudded once, too loud in the silence.

“I…” My voice caught. I cleared it. “I wanted to talk to you. About… us. About our future.”

That made her blink. Finally.

Her eyes turned to me, flat and completely unreadable. There was no anger. No hope. Just a hollowness I didn’t know how to fill.

“I thought, after everything, we could…” I stopped. Tried again. “We survived. The antidote’s almost ready. The council’s quieted for now. We have time now. Space to be together.”

Her lips parted, just slightly. Then she whispered, “Why did you lie to me?”

I blinked.

The question didn’t land like an accusation. It felt like I had skipped the trial and went straight to a verdict.

“I never meant to,” I started, but the words tangled. I couldn’t lie again. Not now. But the truth, the full truth, was a blade I couldn’t hand her.

She waited for me to continue, and in that pause, everything between us splintered.

When I didn’t answer, she turned her gaze back to the gardens. Dismissed me without moving or saying a word.

I sat there a moment longer, every part of me aching to say something, anything, that would undo the distance I had built between us.

But I’d run out of explanations. Out of excuses.

I stood slowly. The ring stayed in my pocket. And I didn’t reach for her again.

She need more time. I would give her that while I secured the antidote and my place as King.

The door was heavier when I closed it behind me. And the silence I left in that room was deafening.

Guards straightened as I passed, but none dared speak; not with my jaw locked and my hand still clenched in my pocket around the ring I hadn’t been able to give her.

Every step down the corridor was a battle. A war between turning back—falling to my knees and begging her to believe me—and forcing myself forward to do what needed to be done.

By the time I reached the war room doors, my restraint had frayed to threads. My hand left the ring and curled into a fist instead.

The war table cracked from the force of my fist slamming into it, hard enough to split the grain. Maps scattered. A goblet toppled, wine sloshing across the borderlines we’d secured.

The room emptied fast after that.

The last guard shut the door behind him with a soft click, leaving only silence—and Ronan.

He stood across from me with arms crossed, watching like I might combust.

I paced. The ring throbbed in my pocket like a second heartbeat.

“She asked me why I lied,” I said aloud. My voice came rough, like gravel in my throat.

Roman just waited, patient as a stone, while I moved like a storm around him.

“I had no choice,” I snapped, shoving a stack of reports aside. “We were attacked. The council was circling. Ella was holding the only damn antidote—”

“And instead of telling her,” Ronan cut in, “you shut her out. Again.”

I stopped cold. His tone wasn’t insubordinate. Just honest. And that stung worse.

“You think I wanted to?” I turned, jaw clenched. “You think I liked locking her away? That I enjoyed watching her disappear piece by piece while I made deals with monsters?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Then why do it?”

“Because it was the only way!” My voice cracked across the chamber. “Because if I gave her a choice, she would’ve sacrificed herself! Again. For me. For everyone. She always does.”

I braced my hands on the edge of the table, breathing hard. My shoulders trembled, sweat starting to slick my back despite the chill in the air.

“And now?” Ronan asked, quieter. “What did your silence buy you?”

I looked down at the dented wood. At the puddle of red wine bleeding across the edge like a wound.

“She won’t even look at me,” I said hoarsely.

He nodded once. “You can’t protect her and cage her at the same time, Damon. That’s not love. That’s control.”

The words slapped me in the face. And I knew he was right.

I dropped into the nearest chair, spine folding forward as I scrubbed a hand down on my face. My fingers dug into my temples.

“I thought… if I could just get through this. One last threat. One last war. I thought I could give her a sense of peace.”

Ronan was silent for a moment, then crossed the room. He poured a glass of water and set it in front of me.

“She just wanted you. And to have you respect her enough to be honest. She doesn’t care that you’re King, she’s not one of the nobles who plays the game.”

I stared at the glass but didn’t touch it.

Outside, the sky was turning violet. The last threads of sunlight cast long shadows across the chamber floor, fractured by the war table, the ruined maps, the silence growing from Ronan’s words.

“She’s slipping away from me,” I whispered.

“Then stop giving her reasons to run.” He said, with a touch of anger.

Ronan left without waiting to be dismissed.

I sat in the dim, surrounded by the symbols of power I used to find comfort in. But none of them could help me now.

Not if I kept choosing fear over faith.

My fingers dipped into my pocket and brushed the edge of the ring again. I was going to fix this. I would get the antidote for Lila and we would start again. Start fresh.

As true mates on equal footing.