"Your cooking is amazing. I only had it once, but I still rember it. And after losing so much blood tonight, don’t you think I deserve a proper al? You’re such a thoughtful person. I’m sure you’ll start grinding beans by three in the morning for ."
Her breathing turned heavier.
Then she asked in a flat voice, "Do you know what ti it is?"
I ignored that.
Instead, I said sweetly, "I heard older people don’t sleep deeply anyway. I’m sure you can handle it."
A tense silence followed.
Then she bit out one sharp word.
"Fine."
I could almost picture it in my head, Amber lying there and imagining a hundred ways to tear apart.
The truth was simple.
She believed Lewis and I were tied together by sothing stronger than a normal mate bond, darker than fate, crueler than rcy. In her mind, my life and his had been knotted together so tightly that one could not suffer without the other paying for it too.
If I lived badly, Lewis would be dragged down with .
If I suffered, he would suffer.
If I died, he might follow.
But if I lived well, if I was safe, comfortable, cared for, then Lewis would benefit too.
That was why she could not lock up.
That was why she could not starve , break , or leave in pain.
For Lewis’s sake, she had to take care of .
Pamper .
Feed .
Protect .
It was almost funny.
The woman who wanted gone had to make sure I lived beautifully.
Lewis and I were trapped in the sa knot, whether any of us liked it or not.
Amber suddenly turned away from , giving her back.
I smiled in the dark.
"Amber," I whispered, "I can’t sleep."
"Not my problem."
"Tell a story."
She let out a low, angry breath. "I’m not sleepless. I just don’t need much rest. And now you expect to wake up at three in the morning to grind beans for you too? You have no right to order around."
"But I want a story," I said, softer this ti, almost like a child asking for comfort. "Amber, won’t you tell one?"
She didn’t respond for a long while.
I wondered then if she regretted letting into her bed at all.
I had kept her up half the night. Now I had her trapped beside , listening to my nonsense, forced to endure because of Lewis. What she said did not matter. She could have recited old grocery lists for all I cared. The point was not the story.
The point was that the angrier she got, the lighter I felt.
And sowhere in the middle of her cold, clipped voice, I drifted off.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, sunlight had already spilled across the room.
The first thing I saw was Lewis.
He was leaning against the edge of the bed, asleep.
For a second, I forgot everything else.
The golden morning light touched his face and softened the sharp lines of him. His dark hair caught the sun, and his white shirt made him look clean and distant and far too beautiful for a world like this. Even half-asleep, he carried that quiet Alpha presence that pressed on the room without effort.
My chest tightened.
That deep, restless pull inside stirred at once, warm and aching. It made want to bury myself against him and stay there until the whole world disappeared.
Then I rembered my wrist.
Instinctively, I hid it behind .
The movent was small, but Lewis noticed anyway.
His eyes opened slowly, then settled on .
"Elena," he said, his voice rough from sleep.
My heart gave a painful thud.
"Lewis."
I quickly tugged my sleeve down to cover the scar on my wrist, then leaned into him before he could look too closely. He caught at once, one arm tightening around my waist as his eyes searched my face.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. "Did anyone hurt you?"
I thought about it.
Honestly, Amber looked far more miserable than I did.
It had only been one night, and she had already called Lewis over. I had planned to tornt her for a few more days, but clearly she was smarter than I gave her credit for. She knew when to pull in help.
I shook my head.
"No. I’m fine."
A knock sounded at the door before Lewis could say anything else.
Then Whitney’s voice ca from outside. "Elena, Lewis, breakfast is ready. Co downstairs."
"Okay," I answered. "We’ll be right there."
I eased back from Lewis carefully, worried he might notice my wrist if he held any longer.
"Lewis, I’ll wash up first," I said. "You go down and start eating."
His gaze stayed on for a mont longer than I liked.
Then he asked, "You and Amber..."
"Don’t worry," I cut in quickly, forcing a smile. "She’s not going to try to kill again. We reached an understanding. I even slept in the sa bed as her last night."
That only gave him more questions.
I could see them in his eyes.
But he didn’t ask.
Instead, he lifted a hand and ruffled my hair gently.
"As long as you’re okay."
Then he turned and left.
When the room was quiet again, I looked down at my left wrist.
Old scars crossed the skin.
Fresh ones now rested over them.
I swallowed hard and pulled my sleeve down farther.
Hopefully, no one would notice.
After washing up, I headed downstairs.
The dining room was already full.
And honestly, the sight of everyone gathered around that table was enough to make any sane person turn around and leave. Whitney sat beside Vito. Vito still looked tense and dark, like sothing bitter was burning under his skin. Yael sat hunched because of his injured back, yet his eyes were still bright and alert, always searching the room.
Amber sat there too, calm as if nothing had happened last night.
She was handing Lewis a stuffed dumpling with an almost gentle expression.
"Lewis," she said softly, "this is your favorite."
The whole scene was ridiculous.
A table full of people tied together by hatred, blood, revenge, old wounds, and strange loyalties, all pretending this was a normal breakfast.
Vito looked especially grim. He seed to have guessed that sothing had shifted. The easy smile he usually wore was gone. Still, he kept placing food on Whitney’s plate, and Whitney kept ignoring it.
An endless little war.
He offered.
She refused.
Again and again.
Then Yael spotted .
His whole face lit up instantly.
"Elena, sit here!"
He patted the chair beside him with obvious excitent, but Lewis shot him a cold look from across the table.
I smiled at Yael anyway.
"I’ll sit with Lewis."
Yael’s face fell at once.
"Oh."
The disappointnt on his face was almost childish.
Breakfast was spread across the table in a way that would have looked welcoming if the people around it were different. Alongside the dumplings, soy milk, and ravioli I had demanded, there were sandwiches, cereal, and several other dishes.
Amber had actually done it.
I almost laughed.
I picked up a ravioli and placed it on Yael’s plate.
"Your mom made this herself," I told him.
His mood changed so fast it was almost funny. One second he looked wounded, and the next his eyes lit up again, bright and eager.
Lewis noticed the change, but he said nothing.
He understood the bond between Yael and wasn’t romantic. It felt more like sothing softer, more protective. Familiar in a way neither of us really questioned.
Amber seed to notice Lewis’s mood too. She poured him a cup of soy milk and slid it toward him.
"This is freshly ground," she said. "Try it."
I coughed lightly.
Not enough to sound dramatic.
Just enough.
Every head at the table turned.
Amber’s jaw tightened.
Then, with clear reluctance, she poured a cup for too and pushed it across the table.
"Here. Have so."
I looked at her and smiled sweetly.
"Thank you, Amber."
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