Kane POV
"We need to do sothing so I can differentiate you," she said, her voice trembling but determined. "I don’t want to fall into that trap again."
She was right.
I couldn’t bla her. After what Dean pulled, it was no wonder she wanted to avoid ever being in that position again. The thought of her mistaking him for again made my blood boil—not at her, but at him for exploiting her trust.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think of a solution. "You’re right," I said. "We need to make sure this never happens again."
Her brows knitted together. "But how? He looks exactly like you... slls like you... even sounds like you. How am I supposed to tell the difference?"
I sighed, hating that she had to deal with this at all. "Dean and I share the sa base scent because we were once the sa person. But there are subtle differences. You’ve already noticed them—like how his behavior doesn’t match mine."
"Yeah," she murmured, her cheeks reddening. "But in the mont, it’s hard to catch. Especially when he’s pretending to be you."
As much as it pained to admit, Dean’s ability to mimic was terrifying. If he could conceal his differences—his mannerisms, his behavior—there’d be nothing to stop him from deceiving her again.
"Okay," I said after a mont, taking a deep breath to calm myself. "Let’s say I get a tattoo. Sothing only you know about, so you can check."
Elena tilted her head, considering it, but I could see the doubt flicker in her eyes. She didn’t say it, but we both knew tattoos could be copied, removed, or hidden. It wasn’t foolproof.
I hesitated before continuing, my throat tight. "There’s... another option. Sothing that would make it impossible for Dean to trick you. But..." I trailed off, unsure how to phrase it without it sounding manipulative.
"What is it?" she asked, her brow furrowing.
"The mate mark," I said quietly, avoiding her gaze. "If I mark you, the bond will be... unbreakable. You’d be able to sense —know if it’s really . And I’d feel you too—your emotions, your thoughts."
Her eyes widened, and I rushed to explain further. "It’s not sothing to take lightly, Elena. The mark is sacred. It’s ant to be a sign of love and commitnt, not a... not a differentiator. I don’t want you to feel pressured into this. I just—"
"Kane, stop," she interrupted, her voice soft but firm.
I looked up, startled by the resolve in her expression.
"I know what the mark ans," she said. "And I know you’re not using this as an excuse. But... it’s a big step. I need ti to think about it."
Relief and disappointnt clashed within , but I nodded. "Take all the ti you need," I said sincerely.
"Alright," I said finally. "I’ll get a tattoo. Sothing aningful, sothing that tells you it’s ."
Her face lit up with a mix of relief and hope. "Really?"
I nodded, the corners of my mouth lifting in a small smile. "Yes. It’s a small price to pay to make sure you never doubt again."
She stepped closer, placing her hand on my chest. "Thank you, Kane. I know it’s not fair that you have to do this because of him, but..."
I placed my hand over hers, cutting her off gently. "You’re worth it, Elena. Every bit of it."
"Kane... there’s sothing else you should know." She hesitated, her hands fidgeting nervously. "When Dean touched , his touch felt the sa as yours. It had the... the sparks of a mate."
Elena’s words hit like a sledgehamr. The thought of her being unable to tell the difference between and Dean was unsettling enough, but hearing her say his touch felt like mine—that it carried the sa mate sparks—was a punch straight to the gut.
I clenched my fists, battling the storm of emotions swirling inside . Ash was howling with rage, pacing restlessly, demanding we mark her right now to erase any chance of confusion. But I couldn’t do that—not without her full understanding, not without her love.
Ash erupted inside , snarling and growling, his fury boiling over. I had to fight to keep him at bay, my fists clenching so tightly my knuckles turned white.
"He’s not your mate," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "He’s a parasite, Elena. He might have my scent, my touch, my spark, but he’s not . He never will be."
"I believe you, Kane," she said, stepping closer to place her hand on my arm. "But I need to understand why. Why does he have those sparks? Why does he feel like... like he’s mine too?"
I sighed heavily, the weight of the truth pressing down on . "Because he’s a part of ," I admitted reluctantly. "He’s not just so random creature, Elena. He’s the vampiric side of —split from my body and given form. The mate bond we share... it recognizes him as a fragnt of ."
Her face paled, and I quickly reached out to steady her.
"But he’s not you," she whispered.
"No, he’s not," I said fiercely, cupping her face with my hands. "You’re mine, Elena. Mine. I’ll protect you from him, no matter what it takes. And I’ll find a way to make sure you never have to doubt it again."
Even as I spoke, I couldn’t ignore the lingering shadow of Dean’s claim. But no matter what, I would fight to prove that Elena’s place was by my side—and mine alone.
The mont hung between us, charged with unspoken promises. Dean might have tried to sow doubt and chaos, but I would do whatever it took to ensure Elena never questioned who her true mate was again.
"Let’s go," I said. "We’ll find the best artist in town, and I’ll get it done today."
Her lips curved into a soft smile, and for the first ti since Dean’s return, I felt a spark of control over the situation. Dean might share my face, my scent, even my past—but he’d never have what truly mattered.
Elena’s trust.
As I opened the car door for her, Elena’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, and she asked, "Do I also get to choose the tattoo?"
I chuckled at her enthusiasm, nodding. "Sure, you pick, and I’ll get it. Just don’t go too crazy."
That made her light up, her earlier worry montarily pushed aside. "Deal!" she said with a grin before sliding into the passenger seat.
After rounding the car and slipping into the driver’s seat, I glanced at her. She was staring out the window, her brows furrowed in thought.
"A penny for your thoughts?" I teased, breaking the silence.
She blinked and turned to with a sheepish smile. "Oh, nothing," she said, shrugging. "I’m just thinking about what would look cool on you. A wolf or a moon, maybe? Or both?"
Her playful tone eased so of the tension I’d been carrying since this morning. "Both?" I echoed, smirking. "You’re aiming big, huh?"
"Of course!" she said, her eyes twinkling. "If you’re going to get a tattoo for , it has to make a statent. Sothing bold, sothing that says, ’Elena’s mate.’"
I laughed, shaking my head. "I trust you to pick sothing that won’t make regret this. Just rember—I’m stuck with whatever you choose forever."
She leaned back in her seat, pretending to consider. "Hmm, forever is a long ti... Maybe I should go with sothing like a heart with my na in it. Super classic, right?"
I groaned dramatically. "Please, no hearts."
She burst out laughing, the sound like music to my ears. In that mont, seeing her happy, I knew I’d do anything she asked—wolf, moon, or even hearts. As long as it made her feel secure with , it didn’t matter what it was.
By the ti we were done, I was half expecting her to have gone with sothing drastic—like a dragon. Her eyes had practically sparkled the mont she saw a design of a dragon coiled around a sword. But in the end, she surprised by choosing sothing far more aningful.
She settled on an image of a wolf howling to five moons, each moon containing a letter of her na etched subtly into its design. It was bold yet intricate, a perfect blend of strength and sentintality.
When the artist pulled out the needle, though, I had second thoughts—not about the tattoo, but about how I’d underestimated the whole process. That needle was shiny, pointy, and far too helpful in delivering pain. Still, I wasn’t about to let her see flinch. Like the macho guy I am, I sat as still as a statue, enduring every jab with clenched teeth.
Through it all, she stood by my side, her fingers brushing mine, a sly smile on her lips as if daring to crack. Every now and then, she’d tease, "You doing okay there, tough guy?"
When it was finally over, I had barely glanced at the finished work in the mirror before I was rewarded. Elena kissed , her lips warm and soft against mine, and it made every sting worth it.
"Oh my gosh, Kane, it’s perfect!" she gushed, her excitent bubbling over as she ran her fingers over the bandaged area. "It’s so you—and us. I love it."
Hearing her excitent and seeing her happiness was all I needed. Yeah, I’d do it again. Over and over, just to see her like that. If enduring a little pain made her feel this safe and cherished, it was a no-brainer.
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