Chapter 211

Lila

I should have gone to bed hours ago, but my hands refused to stop moving. Grinding, mixing, sorting – it was a comforting rhythm. The pestle scraped against stone, steady until the sound blurred into something else entirely.

The steady thud of a heartbeat that wasn’t mine.

I froze.

The air thickened around me, pressing heavy against my skin. For a moment, I thought I imagined it, that exhaustion had finally blurred the edges of reality. But then it came again, low and rhythmic, echoing through the hollow in my chest.

Damon.

Ruby stirred, her voice strong in my mind. He’s reaching for us.

“No.” The word came out as a whisper, barely audible over the rain tapping the windows. “He can’t –”

But I felt it before I finished speaking. A flash of heat behind my ribs. A sharp pull behind my sternum. Then, like a door unlocking, the bond flared to life.

It wasn’t the soft hum I remembered, this was jagged, raw, chaotic. Pain roared through it first; Damon’s pain, followed by confusion, guilt, and something darker beneath it.

Zane’s growl rippled through the link, distant yet loud enough to make Ruby howl in return. The sound wasn’t meant for me, but I felt it all the same – the command, the desperation. The ache of a wolf that had waited too long for his mate.

My breath hitched. The bowl slipped from my hands and clattered to the floor, herbs scattering.

Ruby’s energy surged up, trying to rebuild the wall, but her voice faltered. It’s cracking. I can’t hold him back much longer.

“You have to.” My hands trembled as I pressed them to the counter, grounding myself against the pull. “He can’t know. He can’t see.”

He already knows.

The truth of it burned and I could feel the ghost of his breath brushing the back of my neck, the echo of his heartbeat syncing to mine. The grief in him was unbearable, a deep, bleeding wound that mirrored the one I’d buried two years ago.

I clenched my fists, forcing air into my lungs. “I won’t let him in.”

The bond pulsed in answer, mocking me and I caught the flicker of an image: Damon’s hands gripping the edge of a table, his jaw tight, his eyes closed as if in pain. He whispered my name in disbelief and longing.

I stumbled backward, knocking into a shelf. A jar tipped and shattered beside me, the sharp scent of mint filling the air. The sting of glass bit into my palm, grounding me back into the now.

“No,” I said aloud, my voice shaking.

Ruby’s tone softened. You still love him.

My throat closed. I sank to my knees among the broken glass, shaking my head. “I love what he was,” I whispered. “Not what he became.”

Outside, closer thunder rolled low across the mountains and the bond vibrated at my fear, answering it reflexively.

I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, trying to steady the chaos inside. My heartbeat and Damon’s were out of sync, but the distance between them was shrinking.

I could feel his need to come to me. Desperation flooded through the connection, followed by something almost tender. A plea. A wordless ache that said everything he hadn’t.

Tears welled before I could stop them. I blinked hard, shaking my head until the images blurred away. “No,” I breathed. “I already let you go.”

Damon’s heartbeat thundered once more, slow and steady, leaking through the wall between the bond before quieting down.

The storm passed, but the wind still sighed through the shutters. I collected myself and begun sweeping the broken glass into a pan, hiding the mess before the twins could see. My body ached as if I’d been fighting. In a way I had.

Each time I tried to breathe past the pulse of the bind, I felt Damon at the edges of my mind, restless and hurting.

“Keep the wall up, Ruby, I want some space from him”, I whispered.

Are you sure you really want that?

“I do,” I murmured, even as my chest tightened with the lie.

The door creaked open softly. I looked up to find Kael standing in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. He looked like he hadn’t slept either: his hair damp, his shirt rumpled, worry shadowing the kind lines of his face.

“You’re early,” I said, trying to sound casual but my voice came out shaky.

“I saw your light on,” he said quietly. “Didn’t seem right to leave you alone after last night.”

I didn’t ask how much he’d heard. There was no safe answer.

“I’m fine,” I said, cleaning up the last of the mess. “Just needed to get things back in order.”

Kael leaned against the doorframe, studying me with an intensity that saw through the white lie. “You always work when you’re frightened,” he said softly. “When you can’t sleep.”

“I’m not frightened.” I forced a small smile. “I’m just… busy.”

He stepped closer, slow and careful, as if he were approaching a wounded animal. “He’s still here, isn’t he?”

My hands stilled. “Kael –”

He kept his voice steady, “You can tell me the truth, Lila. I’ve known you long enough to see when you’re upset.”

I stared at the shelves, the herbs blurring in front of me. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t what he thought; that Damon’s presence meant nothing. But every lie I’d told lately sounded hollow and desperate to my ears.

Kael came to stand beside me, his reflection catching faintly in the glass. “Who is he really?” he asked quietly. “The one who’s been haunting the edge of the square.”

I swallowed hard. “No one who matters.”

Kael sighed, looking away. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be shaking every time he’s near.”

The words hit too close. I forced myself to keep working, beginning crush mint hoping the scent would fill the air enough to hide my sharp tang of fear. “Please don’t ask me about him.”

“I’m not asking out of jealousy,” he said gently. “I just want to know what I’m protecting you from.”

That word, protecting, clenched a fist around my heart.

I turned to him, my voice low. “You can’t protect me from this. It isn’t something you can fight with your hands, Kael. It’s already here, inside me.”

He didn’t answer for a long time. His gaze flicked toward the twins playing through the back door, their laughter light, unbothered. The sound made my heart twist.

Finally, he said, “Then I need to know if he’s going to hurt you again.”

The bond pulsed sharply under my skin, almost as if it heard him. It was a hot, insistent ache at the center of my chest. I caught my breath, pressing a hand to my sternum. Kael saw the movement, his brows drawing together.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” I said too quickly. “Just tired.”

But it wasn’t nothing. The pulse came again, stronger this time. Damon’s emotion brushing mine, a flicker of regret that made my vision blur.

I forced myself to turn away, to focus on the work at hand.

When I finally looked up, Kael was standing in the doorway, still watching me, and I knew he’d begun to see what I’d been trying so hard to hide.

The truth was catching up to me. And there was nowhere left to run even if I wanted to.