Chapter 91- The Shadow of Betrayal

More days crawled by, each one stretching endlessly without a sign of Damon. My mind refused to quiet, thoughts racing in an unforgiving cycle. Sleep was a stranger to me now, lost in the torment of my own emotions.  

At first, I had harbored resentment toward Malios, blaming him for everything. But as time passed, clarity emerged—I realized that this was never just about him. The real issue was deeper, tangled in Damon’s lingering doubt about my feelings for Evan. Damon still believed that Evan held a space in my heart that he could never fully occupy. That, even in death, Evan was still his rival.  

The truth was something I had known all along, but I had once been too ashamed to admit—I had always chosen Damon. Even when Evan was alive, even when we were happy, the love I felt for Damon had always been different. Fiery, uncontainable. The kind of love that makes you forget logic, that strips away self-preservation and leaves you vulnerable. The kind of love that steals your breath, makes your pulse race, and has the power to unravel everything.  

Perhaps Damon was a victim of that kind of love—a love so strong it distorted reason, made him lose control over his own mind.  

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I had developed a nightly routine—wandering through Maria and Mason’s garden, letting the cold night air seep into my lungs. Bullet’s van arrived at the same time every night. He never spoke to me, never acknowledged my presence, and I never attempted to engage him.  

In some desperate bid to force a reaction, I had begun venturing further into the woods, hoping that my recklessness would trigger Damon’s concern. Hoping that Bullet would report my actions and that Damon would finally come, furious over the danger I had placed myself in. But nothing happened. No consequences. No Damon.  

Tonight, I decided to go even deeper into the forest—right to its center, even if fear gnawed at me.  

At the edge of the trees, I glanced back toward the road. Bullet’s van had not arrived yet, though it was well past midnight. I didn’t care. Let him wonder where I had gone.  

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the plunge into darkness, but before I could step forward, a sound to my right stopped me.  

Footsteps.  

I jumped, letting out a small startled cry. My pulse pounded as I whipped around—only to come face-to-face with the last person I had expected.  

Valia.  

I stared at her, my breath uneven.  

“Why is it that everyone who seeks me out emerges from the damn woods?” I muttered bitterly, thinking of Malios.  

“Ava,” she said softly. “I missed you—”  

Immediately, I considered turning back and heading home.  

“How ironic,” I snapped. “Considering you’re the reason I’m here in the first place.”  

“I know,” she admitted, her voice measured, cautious. “And I’m so sorry. That was never my intention.”  

I studied her closely. Her expression held the faintest trace of sincerity, but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe it. I noticed then that she was wearing my clothes again—my jacket, my pants, even my brown scarf wrapped neatly around her neck.  

How bold could someone possibly be?  

“What do you want?” I demanded, refusing to let my frustration waver.  

“I heard Bullet was… occupied tonight,” she said smoothly. “I didn’t want to leave you alone. I wanted to check on you—”  

“Bullshit,” I cut her off, rolling my eyes.  

I turned to walk away, but her hand shot out, gripping my arm. My body tensed immediately, my skin igniting with the urge to slap her away.  

“Please don’t go,” she pleaded. “I have a surprise for you.”  

There was a shift in her expression, something missing—her usual gleaming arrogance had dimmed.  

Standing this close, I noticed something else, something more unsettling. Her skin was pale, almost gray.  

My gaze flickered to her hands, and my stomach dropped. Her nails—brittle and fractured—crumbled as she clenched her fingers.  

Alarm surged through me.  

“Are you okay?” I asked, genuine concern slipping into my voice.  

She quickly hid her hands behind her back. “I’m fine. Just a little anemic.”  

“That’s more than a little—”  

“It’s nothing.” She cut me off sharply. “I’ve been seeing a doctor.”  

We stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken tension.  

Then, she reached into her pocket and pulled something out.  

A pacifier.  

My breath hitched.  

Baby Damon’s pacifier.  

A thousand questions tangled in my mind, but only one escaped my lips.  

“Why do you have that?”  

“Baby Damon is here,” she revealed, watching my expression carefully. “Maria has him, just a few minutes from here. We snuck him out to see you.”  

I felt my chest tighten, hope rising so quickly it nearly crushed me.  

“As much as you hate me,” she continued, “I don’t think it’s right for you to be kept away from your child.”  

My resolve crumbled.  

“Take me to him. Now.”  

Maria had mentioned wanting to bring him to me, but I hadn’t believed she would actually go through with it.  

Yet, here was proof.  

I was going to see my son.  

The thought alone melted every defense I had.  

“Alright,” Valia said, reaching out her hand. “Hold onto me.”  

I hesitated only briefly before gripping her hand.  

She guided me into the forest, deeper than I had ever gone before. Unlike the woods behind Maria and Mason’s home, this one was tangled, chaotic. Roots twisted up from the ground, branches reached out like skeletal fingers, and the path was riddled with unseen obstacles.  

We walked for what felt like an eternity.  

More than an hour passed.  

Something gnawed at my gut—an unease I couldn’t place.  

“How much farther?” I asked, irritation creeping into my voice.  

“We’re almost there,” Valia murmured, her eyes locked onto something ahead. A marking carved into a tree.  

She traced it with her fingers as though she had been following these symbols all along.  

Beyond the tree, the forest opened into a clearing.  

Two figures stood with their backs turned to us, motionless in the moonlight.  

I squinted. “Who is that?”  

Valia didn’t answer. She was staring ahead, transfixed.  

Then, the first figure turned.  

Maria.  

Her arms were empty.  

Relief bloomed in my chest. “Maria—where’s Baby Damon?”  

As I stepped closer, I saw her eyes glistening with tears.  

“I’m so sorry, Ava,” she whispered, voice shaking. “I’m so sorry.”  

She couldn’t even look at me.  

Then, she said something that shattered everything.  

“She’s my daughter.”  

Confusion wrapped around me like a suffocating fog.  

“What?”  

The second figure turned.  

A red cloak draped over their shoulders.  

Lips painted crimson.  

Fangs glinting in the moonlight.  

A wicked smile.  

Tessa.  

Pain erupted in the back of my head before I could react.  

Darkness swallowed me whole.