Chapter Ten
1597 Words
Tasha leaned on her elbows, scrutinizing her. “So, you finally rejected Ryan?”
“I didn’t finally reject him. I just… told him the truth. That I’m not sure I feel the same way.”
Tasha let out a long breath. “And how did he take it?”
Ava chewed on her lip. “He said he’d wait.”
Tasha snorted. “Of course, he did. He’s Ryan.”
Ava frowned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not! I love the guy. He’s sweet. But, Ava, if you don’t see him that way, don’t string him along.”
“I’m not stringing him along,” Ava said, frustration creeping into her tone. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to settle for something that doesn’t feel right.”
Tasha studied her for a long moment before nodding. “Then that’s your answer. Don’t force yourself into something comfortable just because it’s easy.”
Ava exhaled. “Right.”
But deep down, something unsettled her.
Why did it feel like her heart was waiting for something—or someone—else?
Damien’s Growing Conflict
Back at Blackwood Enterprises, Damien sat behind his desk, scrolling through reports while Marcus stood across from him, arms crossed.
“You’re not even trying to meet her,” Marcus said flatly.
Damien didn’t look up. “Because I don’t need to.”
Marcus let out a frustrated sigh. “You do realize she’s still completely unaware of what she is, right? You’re her mate, Damien. The one person who can help her through the awakening when it happens.”
“She doesn’t need me,” Damien said coldly.
Marcus scoffed. “And you actually believe that?”
Damien finally lifted his gaze, his piercing blue eyes darkening. “She’ll be fine.”
Marcus leaned in. “No, she won’t. You’re underestimating what’s coming. What if she gets hurt before she even knows the truth? What if someone else tells her first?”
A muscle ticked in Damien’s jaw, but he remained silent.
Marcus studied him before shaking his head. “I don’t get it. You’ve always been a man who values control. But here you are, letting fate make decisions for you instead of taking charge.”
Damien’s fingers curled into a fist.
“I am in control,” he said, voice low.
Marcus tilted his head. “Then prove it. Go see her.”
Damien didn’t respond.
But later that night, as he stood on the balcony of his penthouse, staring down at the city, he found himself wondering—
How long could he keep ignoring the pull toward Ava Sinclair?
And how long before fate made the decision for him?
…
Ava tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. The quiet hum of the city outside her window did little to ease the unease gnawing at her chest.
Ever since Ryan confessed his feelings, her mind had been in turmoil. She liked him—he was kind, funny, and always there for her. Any girl would be lucky to have him.
So why did it feel like something was missing?
She exhaled sharply and sat up, running a hand through her messy hair.
Her gaze drifted toward the moonlit window, and for a brief moment, she swore she saw a figure standing on the rooftop of a nearby building.
A chill ran down her spine.
When she blinked, the figure was gone.
Her heart pounded. Maybe she was just imagining things. Maybe it was exhaustion.
Shaking her head, she laid back down, trying to push away the strange feeling that something—or someone—was watching her.
Damien
Meanwhile, miles away, Damien stood on the rooftop of one of his properties, staring toward the Sinclair residence.
He hadn’t meant to come here.
Yet, here he was.
He clenched his fists. This was foolish. Dangerous. He had spent centuries mastering his control, resisting the mate bond.
And now, with Ava, he was slipping.
“You’re slipping,” a voice echoed behind him.
Lucian, his Beta, stepped forward, hands in his pockets.
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion,” Damien muttered.
Lucian smirked. “You never do. But I give it anyway.”
Damien didn’t look away from the Sinclair home. “She’s not ready.”
“She won’t be unless you step in,” Lucian countered. “And you know it.”
Damien exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable.
Lucian shook his head. “I still don’t get it. You’ve led Shadowcrest with absolute authority. You’ve faced enemies without hesitation. But when it comes to your mate, you’re hesitating.”
Damien’s jaw tightened. “Because I made a promise.”
“To Selene,” Lucian said, crossing his arms. “And yet, you haven’t accepted her, either. What exactly are you waiting for?”
Silence.
Lucian sighed. “At some point, Damien, you’ll have to choose. And if you wait too long…” He glanced toward the Sinclair residence. “Someone else might make that choice for you.”
With that, Lucian walked away, leaving Damien alone with his thoughts.
The Unknown Watcher
From the shadows of a distant alley, another pair of eyes watched.
Not Damien’s.
Not Lucian’s.
But someone else.
Someone who had been waiting far longer than either of them.
And they weren’t going to let Damien Blackwood have Ava Sinclair so easily.
Later that evening, Ava sat on her bed, staring at her phone.
Ryan had sent her a simple text:
“No rush, Ava. Just wanted you to know how I feel.”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Tasha was right—she couldn’t force herself to feel something she didn’t.
But why couldn’t she?
Ryan was a safe choice. There were no complications, no strange pull toward danger. Unlike Damien Blackwood, who barely looked at her yet somehow occupied her thoughts more than she liked.
Frustrated, she tossed her phone aside and lay back. Maybe she just needed sleep.
Her eyes drifted shut.
And then, the voice came again.
"Calithia…"
Ava’s breath hitched.
The whisper was soft, almost like a breeze, but it sent a chill down her spine.
She sat up abruptly, her heart pounding.
This wasn’t the first time she had heard that name.
But who was saying it?
And why did it feel so familiar?
…
Damien’s Dilemma
Across the city, Damien Blackwood stood in his penthouse, staring out at the skyline.
Marcus sat on the couch, his expression unreadable. “You saw her again today, didn’t you?”
Damien didn’t turn around. “It doesn’t matter.”
Marcus sighed. “It does. She’s your mate.”
Damien’s jaw clenched. “She’s human.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“I do.” His voice was sharp. “And I made a promise.”
“To Selene,” Marcus finished, his tone flat.
A heavy silence filled the room.
Damien finally turned, his blue eyes cold. “I don’t break my promises.”
Marcus studied him for a moment. “Maybe not. But what if this isn’t just about you?”
Damien’s expression darkened.
Marcus leaned forward. “You can fight it all you want, but fate doesn’t care about promises.”
Damien said nothing.
Because deep down, a part of him knew Marcus was right.
And that terrified him more than anything
…
Selene stood in her lavish penthouse, sipping red wine as she gazed at the city lights. A smirk played on her lips.
“So, you’ve seen her,” she murmured, swirling the liquid in her glass.
Across from her, a man dressed in black nodded. He was the informant she had placed near Damien—her most trusted spy.
“She’s nothing special,” the man said. “Just a bookstore worker. Ordinary. No connections, no power.”
Selene’s fingers tightened around the glass. Ordinary? No. If fate had tied her to Damien, there had to be more to her.
She turned to face the man. “I want every detail. Where she goes, who she talks to, what she does every second of the day.”
The informant nodded. “And if she gets too close to him?”
Selene’s smile was cold. “Then we make sure she stays in her place.”
She took another sip of wine, her mind already weaving a plan.
If Ava Sinclair thought she could take what belonged to her, she was gravely mistaken.
This was Selene Gold’s game.
And she never lost.
...
Vivian adjusted the cuffs of her blazer as she stepped into the private jet, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Across from her, Nicholas Kingston was already seated, typing away on his laptop with the same focused intensity he always had.
“This trip better be worth my time,” Vivian said, settling into her seat.
Nicholas didn’t look up. “It will be. Blackwood Enterprises is looking to expand its partnerships. If we secure this deal, it’ll strengthen our position in the market.”
Vivian sighed and glanced out the window. Business, business, business. She was good at it—excellent, even—but she couldn’t deny that sometimes, she wanted more.
The flight attendant approached with drinks, and Vivian accepted a glass of champagne, taking a slow sip. “You always talk like you have everything under control,” she mused.
Nicholas finally looked at her, his piercing green eyes unreadable. “Because I do.”
Vivian smirked. “We’ll see.”
- Writer
