Chapter 167
Ellie POV
I laugh.
Sharp.
Bitter.
“She's losing everything?”
I stare at him.
“Her father put my mother in prison.”
Dominic’s expression tightens.
“Yes.”
His voice is careful.
“Her father.”
A pause.
“Not her.”
I shake my head.
“You’re too easy to manipulate.”
His eyes flash.
“That’s not what this is.”
He steps closer.
“She needs community.”
The words come out like he’s explaining something obvious.
“That’s what an Alpha provides. Stability. Protection. Support. I—”
“Oh, brother.”
I groan.
“Don’t start with the Alpha speech.”
I throw my hands up.
“Pride this. Responsibility that.”
His expression darkens.
“Ellie—”
“Would you do the same for Lucas?”
The question comes out before I can stop it.
I step closer.
“Would you let him walk into this house?”
My voice rises.
“Would you give him a role? Offer him support? Make excuses for him?”
Dominic doesn’t answer.
Not immediately.
And that’s answer enough.
I roll my eyes.
“Exactly.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Fair?”
I gesture between us.
“You invited her into our home after I said no.”
His eyes narrow slightly.
“Our home.”
The way he repeats it makes my irritation spike.
“Don’t weaponize that.”
Before I can move past him, his hand closes around my arm.
Not painfully.
Just enough to stop me.
“I am trying to help someone who is struggling.”
I look down at his hand.
Then back at him.
“You’re prioritizing her.”
“No.”
His voice is firm.
“I’m doing my job.”
The words hit harder than they should.
I pull against his grip.
“And what am I?”
The question slips out.
Unplanned.
Unprotected.
For a moment…
He hesitates.
And somehow, that hurts more than any argument could.
His expression softens.
“Why do you hate her so much?”
I freeze.
“She’s your sister.”
His voice lowers.
“Half, yes, but…”
He studies me.
“One day you just flipped a switch.”
A pause.
“And you won’t tell me why.”
The anger drains out of me.
Not because I forgive him.
Because suddenly, I’m tired.
So tired.
Because what am I supposed to say?
That she destroyed me?
That you chose her?
That I died because of both of you?
That the people I trusted most were the ones who broke me?
I can’t.
I won’t.
So instead…
“I never wanted to hate her.”
The words come quietly.
Dominic’s grip tightens slightly.
Not enough to hurt.
Just enough to remind me he’s there.
“I loved Vivian.”
My throat tightens.
“From the day we met.”
I stare somewhere past him.
“Her little blonde curls. Her smile.”
A small, painful laugh escapes me.
“I loved her.”
I swallow.
“And I always knew she was better than me.”
The confession feels strange.
Like admitting something I’ve carried for too long.
“Kinder.”
A pause.
“Prettier.”
My voice gets quieter.
“Someone worth choosing.”
Dominic’s expression changes.
“And I did.”
I look back at him.
“I chose her.”
“I gave her my extra sweets.”
“I gave in whenever she asked for something.”
My fingers curl.
“We were close.”
A memory flashes.
Two little girls.
Two sisters.
Before everything became a competition.
“That’s why I never blamed you for treating her gently.”
His eyes widen slightly.
“While I was the one running errands.”
My voice shakes.
“I saw what you saw in her.”
The silence between us grows.
“She was easy to love.”
I take a breath.
“And I understood why.”
Dominic doesn’t move.
“Until…”
My voice cracks.
“Until the one thing I couldn’t let her have was you.”
The words hang there.
Heavy.
Ugly.
Honest.
I pull my arm free.
“But I was wrong.”
Silence.
For once, neither of us knows what to say.
I move past him.
My shoulder brushes his.
I reach for the door.
And this time…
He doesn’t follow.
The moment I step outside, the air feels colder.
My chest feels strange.
Like someone packed wet sand between my ribs and left it there.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
The bond doesn’t like fighting.
It never does.
Every argument feels like my body is reminding me that the distance between us isn’t natural.
Like every step away from him is pulling against something invisible.
It isn’t exactly pain.
Not really.
Just pressure.
Awareness.
A reminder that some part of me is connected to him, whether I want it or not.
Ugh.
It’s the worst.
I let out a slow breath.
The afternoon air brushes against my face.
I force my shoulders to relax.
To drop.
As if I can physically shake off the invisible thread tying us together.
So I walk.
I limp slightly.
But I keep going.
The street stretches ahead.
People pass by without noticing.
Cars move.
The world continues.
Like nothing inside me just cracked open.
I should go home.
I should return to that enormous, expensive house.
Sit in silence.
Pretend everything is fine.
And what?
Beg Dominic for another kiss because I’m upset?
Like some helpless idiot?
Absolutely not.
I keep walking.
Still…
I wanted that pizza.
At this point, it’s not even about hunger anymore.
It’s about principle.
There’s a small lunch spot three blocks away.
A little place tucked between a bookstore and a tailor.
The kind of restaurant that always smells like toasted dough and oregano.
The windows are slightly fogged from the ovens inside.
It isn’t where I ordered from.
It isn’t even close to the best pizza in the city.
But it’s there.
It’s something.
And right now…
Something is enough.
I push open the door.
A small bell jingles above me.
Warm air surrounds me instantly.
Cheese.
Tomato sauce.
Fresh bread.
For a moment, my shoulders finally relax.
My body prepares to do something normal.
Order food.
Sit down.
Exist.
Five minutes without thinking about bonds.
Or weddings.
Or Dominic.
And then I see him.
A blonde man sitting in the corner.
Devilishly handsome.
Wearing a simple sweater.
Holding a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth.
His eyes lift.
Meet mine.
Recognition flashes instantly.
Of course.
Of course he’s here.
Because apparently the universe has decided I haven’t suffered enough emotional damage today.
Lucas freezes.
Surprise crosses his face.
Then something softer follows.
Something careful.
Like he isn’t sure whether he’s allowed to be relieved to see me.
And for a moment…
Neither of us moves.
I stand in the doorway.
The bell above me is still swaying softly.
My heartbeat suddenly became too loud.
My stomach is twisting.
And this time…
It has nothing to do with hunger.