Until now, everything had been guesses.
Just like before when we suspected Camilla had been the one behind my death. Without proof, it was all smoke and shadows. No matter how certain I felt in my bones, certainty ant nothing without evidence.
So I kept digging.
Kept watching.
Kept waiting.
I needed the truth more than anything else.
Was the person who had hunted so patiently... really soone who had grown up beside ?
Lewis didn’t stop what he was doing. His hands stayed firm at my waist, steady and grounded, moving with a calm confidence that eased my breathing. The way he touched wasn’t rushed. It was controlled like he was anchoring without words.
"We were right," he said quietly. "She isn’t your sister. At least, when that DNA sample was taken, your real sister was still alive. But after all these years..."
He paused. "...there’s no trace of her now."
The mont the truth settled, my chest tightened.
So many emotions crashed into each other relief, rage, grief until I couldn’t tell one from the other.
I had asked the universe so many tis why.
Why would she hate so deeply?
Even if my sister had fallen into the river as a child, it wasn’t my fault. Why would that turn into years of calculated cruelty?
And now I finally understood.
"She ca back for revenge from the very beginning," I said hoarsely.
"Yes," Lewis confird.
Everything made sense now.
Why my downfall had been so precise.
Why every step I took led deeper into ruin.
Why escape was never an option.
She had planned it for years.
My fingers clenched around the sheets. "My sister... do you think she’s still alive?"
I barely rembered her face anymore. Just faded photos from long ago. And even those had vanished after Camilla returned.
Not by accident.
She had erased her on purpose. Slowly. Completely.
"To make us forget," I whispered. "So no one would question her place."
Lewis’s touch softened. "You should prepare yourself for the worst," he said gently. "Now that we know who Camilla really is, do you want to warn the Morrigans?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. They’ve already lost too much. Grandma’s still in the hospital, and suspicion has already started to circle her. Camilla won’t act recklessly right now."
I looked up at him. "If we expose her too early, we warn her. And we still don’t have enough to pin her down."
"What if soone else gets hurt?" he asked.
My gaze hardened.
"Then they’ll live with it."
When I died, not one of them searched for . Not one stood up for . That silence carved this cold place inside my chest.
They owe .
Every single one of them.
If I don’t make it to the end of this, then it’s just fate collecting its due.
"Her plans were already disrupted the mont I ca back," I continued. "Now that she’s carrying a child, she’ll move faster. Can you place people close to the Morrigans? Quiet eyes. Listeners."
"I’ll handle it," Lewis said without hesitation.
"We watch from every angle," I said. "The mont she slips, we catch her."
Camilla’s bond ceremony was scheduled right after the New Year.
I couldn’t help the faint curl of anticipation in my chest. When the Hudsons discovered the truth about the child she carried... the fallout would be beautiful.
I was deep in thought when Lewis interrupted gently.
"New Year’s is almost here. She won’t act during the holidays," he said. "Let’s not waste this ti on her."
His thumb brushed my side, slow and grounding. "How are you feeling now?"
"Better," I admitted. "Much better."
His warmth shifted closer. His touch lingered, deliberate, patient.
"Elena," he murmured near my ear, his voice low and careful, "if you’re really feeling better... does that an I can "
He didn’t finish the sentence.
He didn’t need to.
The quiet tension between us answered for him.
And this ti, I didn’t pull away.
...
Just a mont ago, my mind had been burning with plans how to corner Camilla, how to end her ga once and for all.
And then, without warning, Lewis shifted the air between us.
The tension changed.
Not sharp anymore.
Heavy. Warm. Close.
"I’m sorry, Elena," he murmured, his voice low.
"I know you’re tired. I just... sotis my control slips."
Before he could finish, I leaned forward and wrapped myself around him, brushing my teeth lightly against his ear.
"Lewis," I whispered, "you said it yourself. We’re married. For things like this... you don’t need to ask."
My fingers slipped under his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly, one by one. I pressed a soft bite against his throat, right where his pulse jumped under my lips.
"You can touch ," I said quietly. "Those hands of yours... just be gentle, okay?"
His eyes darkened instantly, heat flaring in them like sothing ancient waking up. The next second, his mouth covered mine, stealing my breath in a deep, consuming kiss.
I didn’t resist.
I wanted it.
How could I not, when the man holding carried both restraint and fire so effortlessly?
Sotis I wondered would he always be this careful with ? Always asking, always waiting?
The thought made my chest ache in the best way.
I felt how much he respected . How he treated like sothing precious, not sothing to claim and discard. This bond, this marriage it hadn’t co easily for either of us.
And I wanted to protect it.
Being close to him didn’t feel like obligation.
It felt like choice.
What I didn’t expect was how completely we would lose track of ti.
Day blurred into night.
Night slipped back into morning.
We barely left the house, only stopping to eat or rest before being drawn back together again. The world outside felt distant, unimportant.
Now I understood why Lewis never wanted to stay at the Hale Residence.
It was too crowded. Too many eyes. Too many rules.
Here, in this quiet villa, there was freedom. Privacy. Space to breathe.
The place was tucked perfectly into the city, hidden from tall buildings and curious gazes. Snow drifted past the glass walls while warmth wrapped around us inside.
When he pinned gently against the window, the cold white world outside only made the heat between us sharper.
There was sothing thrilling about it secretive, forbidden, alive.
The next morning, when I finally woke up, I realized Lewis was still beside .
Even in sleep, he held close, our bodies tangled like neither of us knew how to let go.
"Darling," he murmured, his morning voice rough and deep, "you’re awake?"
I looked into his half-lidded eyes and smiled.
Once, he had felt untouchable. Like soone far above .
Now, he was here real, warm, mine.
I had pulled him down from that distance. Made him feel. Made him want.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pressed my face against his.
"I like you," I said softly.
The haze in his eyes cleared just a little.
"Say that again."
I leaned closer, my lips brushing his ear.
Slowly. Clearly.
"I like you."
Sothing bright flashed through his gaze pure, unguarded joy.
And in that mont, I knew.
This bond wasn’t built on instinct alone.
It was built on choice.
And neither of us was letting go.
Reviews
All reviews (0)