Damian didn’t look away. His stare pinned her in place, a weight heavier than Ronan’s threat. “What truth?” he repeated, voice low but sharp enough to cut.
Evelyn’s mouth went dry. She wanted to deny it, to bury the words as she always had, but Ronan’s taunt still lingered in the air between them like poison. She couldn’t hide forever.
Her lips trembled. “Lily,” she whispered. “She’s his.”
The forest swallowed the confession.
Damian’s face hardened, unreadable, though the flicker of shock in his golden eyes made her chest ache. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
“I didn’t want you to know,” Evelyn said quickly, tears stinging her eyes. “I didn’t want anyone to know. Because she’s mine, Damian. Mine to protect. And Ronan he would have destroyed her the way he destroyed me.”
Her voice cracked, but she pushed on, the words spilling like a wound breaking open. “I ran so she’d never grow up in his hands. So she’d never know what he really is.”
Damian’s fists clenched at his sides, veins standing out along his arms. His anger wasn’t aimed at her it was aimed at the ghost of Ronan still clawing at their lives.
“You should have told me,” he said, his voice rough, shaking with restraint. “You should have trusted me.”
“I couldn’t,” she whispered. “Not when the bond was already pulling at me. If I told you, I was afraid you’d see her as his. That you’d look at her and…” Her voice broke. “She’s mine, Damian. Not his. Never his.”
For a long moment, the only sound was her ragged breathing.
Then Damian crossed the distance in two strides, his hands closing over her arms, not harsh but grounding, unshakable. His eyes locked with hers, blazing with something fierce and undeniable.
“She’s yours,” he said. “And now she’s mine too. Not because of him. Because of you. Because I chose her. Just as I choose you.”
Her breath caught.
For the first time, the bond didn’t feel like a chain around her throat—it felt like a lifeline.
But the danger wasn’t gone. Ronan’s shadow still lingered in the trees, and the battle was far from over.