Three weeks have passed since Selene's pregnancy reveal.
Selene had the entire house orbiting around her now. She walked like she already wore the Luna crown, and spoke like the Moon Goddess whispered secrets into her ear.
She still flinched dramatically every time I walked into a room, like I was some ghost haunting her delicate little life.
And Damien? He avoided me like touching me might burn him.
Good. I hoped it did.
"You talk to yourself a lot," came a familiar voice behind me.
I tensed, recognizing the smooth teasing tone immediately. Rowan.
"It's either that or start yelling at everyone else," I replied, drying my hand on my dress.
He whistled low. "And here I was hoping you were finally talking to me." He leaned in a little closer, voice lowering. "Can I ask something?"
"No."
He grinned, undeterred. "Too bad. I'm asking anyway. Why haven't you left yet?"
I hesitated. "I guess I'm tired of running."
Rowan tilted his head, studying me. "So you're fighting?"
I looked out at the garden again. "No. I'm surviving."
There was a pause. A rare quiet between us. Then Rowan broke it with a laugh. "You know, I like you."
I rolled my eyes. "Congratulations."
"No really," he said, tapping a finger against his temple. "You've got that dangerous edge. I respect it."
I turned to him slowly. "Was that supposed to be flirting?"
"No," he said too quickly, then added with a wink, "Maybe."
He stepped closer to me, making me look at him, he cleared his throat before saying, "You heard about the event tonight, right?"
I stared at him blankly.
He sighed, then gave a short, theatrical bow. "The Luna Crescent Ball. An old tradition. Formal. Fancy. Lots of wine and politics."
He paused before continuing, "I was going to ask if you'd come with me."
I blinked. "What?"
"To the ball," he clarified, more casually now, though I didn't miss the flicker of nerves in his tone. "You know, show up with someone that makes jaws drop. Make them all choke on their assumptions."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why would you want to do that?"
He smirked. "Because it sounds fun. And because you've been walking around like the whole damn world's weighing on your shoulders. I figured, if nothing else, maybe I could give you a night to forget it."
I thought about it for a while. He turned around to leave before throwing me a smile.
"I'll be waiting for you. Don't leave me hanging, Eva."
–––⸻✧⸻–––
I stood just at the edge of the marble floor, a glittering glass in hand, my dark red gown hugging me like a second skin.
I found Rowan near the drink table, nursing a glass of something golden. He looked up and gave a lopsided grin. "There you are. Was beginning to think you ran off."
"I could say the same," I said, smirking. "But I'm here. Not exactly running."
He handed me a drink. "To not running then."
"To not running."
We toasted, our glasses clinking. Rowan had become a strange comfort over the past few weeks—present, but never pushing. He had this way of making me laugh when I didn't want to and reminding me that not everyone here had a dagger for a tongue.
"Let me guess," he said, scanning the room. "You're looking for someone."
I didn't answer. He followed my gaze anyway.
Damien stood across the room, dressed in midnight blue tuxedo, head bowed as he nodded along to something Selene said beside him.
She looked like a goddess, dressed in a deep blue gown—a color similar to Damien's suit—that hugged her like it was sewn onto her skin. And I… I suddenly felt like nothing.
He didn't see me.
Or maybe he saw me and looked away.
Either way, it stung like hell.
"Dance with me," Rowan said, pulling me from the darkness creeping into my chest.
"What?"
"You're not going to mope the whole night. Dance with me."
I wanted to say no, but I let him lead me onto the floor. His hand found my waist, his other lacing through my fingers. He was gentle, smooth, everything a perfect dance partner should be.
But my eyes wandered. Back to Damien.
He was watching now.
Expression unreadable. Jaw tense.
It was only a second, and then he looked away.
That second destroyed me.
"You okay?" Rowan asked, leaning in slightly.
"Yeah," I said. "Thanks for dancing with me."
But the words felt hollow.
The next moment came fast.
A servant passing by bumped into me, causing me to fall on Selene, Xavier caught her just in time before she could fall. My hands flew over my mouth as I saw tears around her eyes, her hand on her stomach. Everyone went still. I opened my mouth, ready to apologize.
"You've always been jealous, haven't you?" she said loudly. Loud enough for the room to turn.
"What? No I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" I blinked.
"Jealous of me. Of the baby. Of your place in this house—temporary, weak, unwanted."
"Selene, that's enough—" Rowan stepped forward, but her words hit faster.
"She's been trying to seduce Damien since the day she arrived. I saw it. We all did. Pathetic, really."
My throat burned. I could've spoken back. I could've defended myself.
But then came a sharp pain to my cheek. I froze in spot.
"How dare you," the former Luna snapped at me, stepping beside Selene like a shield. "We welcomed you into our home, and this is how you repay us? With jealousy? Pettiness? Trying to take what's not yours?"
I looked around.
Everyone's eyes were on me. Judging. Dissecting.
"You don't belong here," the Former Alpha added, voice low but cruel. "What a cruel cursed witch."
I took a step back. My chest tightened. My hands trembled. I couldn't breathe.
I turned, pushing through the crowd and out into the storm that had broken out during the night. Rain lashed down like it had waited for my breaking point. I ran until I couldn't.
Out into the garden, away from the lights, the eyes, the shame. My dress was soaked. Hot, painful sobs shook my frame as I dropped to my knees.
But then I felt a presence.
I looked up slowly, eyes blurry with rain and tears, and there he was — Damien. Drenched from head to toe, chest heaving, water dripping from his hair. His eyes locked onto mine, unreadable at first… but filled with a storm of their own.
He dropped to his knees in front of me.
"Eva…"
I laughed bitterly through a sob. "Now you come?"
"I—"
"Don't," I snapped, voice raw. "Don't talk to me like I'm someone you care about. You stood there, Damien. You stood there and watched them tear me apart like I was nothing."
"I didn't want to make it worse—"
"It was already worse!" I shouted, slamming my hand against the ground. "You think silence helps? You think pretending like I don't matter hurts less than them saying it out loud?"
His jaw clenched. He tried to reach for me, but I backed away.
"I tried," I whispered. "I tried to escape this place that night. I was going to let the vampires take me. I was ready to let go. But you stopped me. You dragged me back here… to this."
He froze.
My voice cracked again. "Why? Why did you keep me here, Damien? To suffer? To be your punching bag? A project you could fix before you tossed it back into the trash?"
His face twisted with anguish. "That's not what I—"
"It hurts," I broke down. "Do you hear me? It hurts so much I can't sleep. I can't breathe. Every time I think maybe… maybe you care, you remind me that I'm just another mistake. Just another scar on your perfect world."
I couldn't stop the tears now. I didn't even try.
"I see you with her. You never look at her the way you look at me. And that makes it worse. Because it gives me hope. And that's the cruelest thing you've done."
He stepped closer. I thought he'd speak again. I was ready to push him away, scream, maybe even hit him.
Instead, he reached out with both hands — soaked, trembling — and cupped the sides of my face. His palms were warm despite the cold. And then—without a single word—he kissed me.
His mouth crashed onto mine with the force of all the emotions we'd both been burying.
His hands slipped back into my wet hair, holding me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded. I gasped into the kiss, fists clutching his soaked shirt.
Damien's lips moved over mine with a desperation that screamed of everything unsaid. But then—
He stiffened.
His lips stopped moving.
And all at once, he shoved me away so roughly I stumbled back, breath caught in my throat.
He clutched his head, groaning—low, pained, almost inhuman.
"Damien?" I gasped, stepping forward, heart leaping in panic.
But the moment I reached for him, his hand flew up—jerking mine away with a force that stunned me.
His eyes met mine.
But they weren't the eyes I knew. These held something darker. Sharper. Angrier.
"Don't touch me," he growled. His voice was rough. Cold. Unfamiliar.
I froze.
His jaw clenched and his eyes raked over me with a look that burned far worse than fire. "I should've known. You're just like the rest. A distraction. A weakness. And I don't have time for either."
My breath hitched.
And before I could ask what had just happened—what changed—he turned and vanished into the rain, leaving me there alone.