“Elara,” he said sharply, “what the hell are you doing with that man?!”
I didn’t answer. My throat was raw, and my chest felt heavy, but the ache in my heart was worse.
“You need to leave him,” my father said firmly. “I mean it. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t even respect you.”
“D-dad…”
“No.” He cut me off. “Listen to me. There’s an arranged marriage proposal on the table. He’s from a strong pack, and he’ll treat you like you deserve. The wedding is in five days.”
I blinked at him, trying to process what he was saying. “Five days?”
“Yes,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “It’s time to move on, Elara. Damon doesn’t deserve you.”
He was right. Deep down, I knew it. But knowing and accepting were two very different things.
He took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll head back home first. There’s a company meeting I need to attend. Lydia called me when she heard you were in the pack hospital because of your allergy. I only came because I knew you’d never ask for help.”
I winced at the mention of Aunt Lydia’s call, the reminder that my family was watching over me even when I tried to hide everything.