A Cruel Demand (Elara's POV)

Pain exploded across my temple as Damon shoved me roughly into the backseat of his luxury SUV. The metallic scent of my own blood filled my nostrils, trickling from where my head had hit the curb. My wolf, Emily, whimpered inside me, subdued and weakened after years of silver exposure.

"Get in and shut up," Damon growled, his blue eyes flashing with a cruelty I once couldn't have imagined from him.

I pressed myself against the door, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. Mike slid into the passenger seat, not even bothering to look at me.

"So, five years in Silver Creek Containment Facility," Damon said, his voice mockingly conversational as he pulled onto the main road. "I hope you enjoyed your stay."

I remained silent, knowing any response would only fuel his sadism.

"Nothing to say?" He met my eyes in the rearview mirror. "That's new. You used to never shut up."

"Leave her alone," Mike muttered, but there was no real conviction in his words.

Damon laughed. "Why? Feeling guilty about your fake sister? After everything she did to Isabella?"

My hands trembled in my lap. "I didn't do anything to Isabella."

The car jerked to a sudden stop, throwing me forward. Damon turned in his seat, his face contorted with rage.

"You stole her life!" he snarled. "Her birthright! Every privilege you enjoyed should have been hers!"

"I didn't know," I whispered, the words hollow after repeating them for five years. "I thought I was their daughter."

Damon's smile turned cruel. "Did you enjoy my little arrangements in prison? The daily... reminders of your place?"

Ice spread through my veins. The beatings, the taunts, the constant torment from other inmates—it had been him all along.

"You..." The realization stole my breath.

"Me," he confirmed, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Silver-infused restraints aren't standard prison issue. But for you? I made an exception."

The silver that had burned my skin daily, weakening my wolf until Emily was barely more than a frightened shadow within me—he had ordered it specifically for me.

"Why?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Because you made a fool of me," he said, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "The future Alpha female of the Stone Pack, revealed as nothing but a Rivers bitch. Do you know what that did to my reputation?"

Once, I had loved this man with my whole heart. Now, I felt nothing but cold hatred.

"Your reputation," I repeated flatly. "That's what matters to you."

He reached back suddenly, grabbing my throat. "Watch your tone. You're nothing now. Remember that."

I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. Black spots danced in my vision until he finally released me.

"We're almost there," Mike announced, breaking the tense silence.

The massive structure of Ocean City Regional Hospital loomed ahead, its glass facade reflecting the overcast sky. My heart pounded wildly against my ribs as Damon parked near the emergency entrance.

Damon yanked me from the car, his fingers digging bruises into my arm. I stumbled, my legs weak from years of confinement.

"Move," he ordered, shoving me forward.

The antiseptic smell of the hospital assaulted my sensitive nose as we entered. Nurses and doctors bustled about, some casting curious glances our way. None intervened—not against the son of the former Alpha King.

My legs gave out suddenly, and I collapsed to my knees on the polished floor.

"Please, Damon," I begged, pride long abandoned. "I have a heart condition. The surgery could kill me."

It was the truth—a congenital defect that had affected my wolf form since childhood. Any major trauma, like organ removal, could potentially be fatal.

Damon's face remained impassive. "Should have thought about that before you stole Isabella's life."

Mike stood watching, hands in his pockets. "This is justice, Elara. For what your mother did."

"By killing me?" I asked, desperation making my voice rise. "How is that justice?"

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Mike's face, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"My sister needs a kidney," he said flatly. "You're a match. That's all that matters."

"She needs it because you arranged it all, didn't you?" The words burst from me, years of suspicion finally confirmed by his guilty expression. "Five years ago, you set me up."

Mike's jaw tightened. "You needed to face consequences for what you stole from Isabella."

The memory of that night crashed over me—waking up disoriented in a strange bed beside a strange wolf. The shock and anger on Damon's face when he and Isabella walked in. The accusations of betrayal, the pack trial that followed. I had been drugged, lose all the sense, I tried to explain. I would never betray my mate. Nobody believed me.

"You drugged me," I said, the realization bringing fresh pain. "Your own sister."

"You were never my sister," Mike snapped, but guilt flashed in his eyes.

"You orchestrated all of it," I continued, pieces finally clicking into place. "The doctored financial records showing I'd been stealing pack funds. The drug and the 'evidence' of my affair. It was all you."

Damon's grip on my arm tightened painfully. "Enough talking. Get up."

He dragged me to my feet, ignoring my struggles. We made our way through sliding doors marked "Authorized Personnel Only" to the private wing—where wealthy pack members received treatment away from human eyes.

The corridor stretched before me like a path to execution. Each step felt heavier than the last. Emily paced anxiously within me, her presence a faint flicker compared to her former strength.

We reached a set of ornate double doors. Mike pushed them open, revealing a luxurious waiting area. And there they stood—Richard and Vivian Stone. My former parents.

Richard looked older, gray streaking his once-dark hair. Vivian remained elegant and imposing, her cold eyes fixing on me with undisguised hatred.

"So the imposter returns," she said, her voice like ice.

Before I could respond, she crossed the room and slapped me hard across the face, her claws leaving burning trails on my cheek. I staggered back, tasting blood.

"Vivian," Richard cautioned, though he made no move to restrain his wife.

"Five years wasn't enough," she hissed. "Not nearly enough for what you and your whore mother did."

The wounds on my face stung, but I straightened my spine. "I didn't know. But I've paid for it every day for five years."

"And now you'll pay properly," Vivian said, satisfaction coloring her voice. "With something tangible."

Richard finally stepped forward. "The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Dr. Walker will run some final tests today."

"And if I refuse?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

Damon laughed, the sound chilling. "You won't."

He pulled out his phone and turned the screen toward me. My heart stopped. There on the screen was a photo of a small boy with unruly dark hair and my green eyes. My son. Ethan.

"Cute kid," Damon said casually. "Five years old now, isn't he? Living with your brother Caleb in that run-down apartment in the Rivers district."

Terror unlike anything I'd ever known gripped me. "Leave him out of this."

"Cooperate, and we will," Mike said, his voice softening slightly. "Refuse, and, well... accidents happen."

My son. My beautiful boy, born in secret just before my imprisonment began. I'd hidden my early pregnancy during the trial, knowing they would take my child if they discovered him. Only Caleb knew, promising to raise him as his own until I returned.

"How did you find him?" I whispered, barely able to form the words.

Damon's smile widened. "Did you really think you could keep secrets from me? I've always known about your bastard."

"He's not a bastard," I hissed, maternal rage momentarily overpowering my fear.

Emily prowled restlessly within me, sharing my desperation. She had once been strong. Now she was as broken as I was, weakened by silver and years of suppression.

But beneath my submission, beneath Emily's whimpers, a fire still burned. Hatred for what they had done to me. Determination to survive. I had to live.