Chapter 13 – The Morning After

Ella wasn’t sure when night slipped into morning.

The fire had burned to embers, faint orange glow pulsing in the hearth like a dying heart. Cole’s breath had been hot against her neck, whiskey-laced and unsteady, his weight pressed into the mattress beside her. She though he would simply collapse on his side of the bed and leave her untouched, behaving like two strangers sharing a bed. But then his hand had found hers, his rough fingers closing too tightly, and the bond had flared between them like a spark she couldn’t smother even she had tried to.

She remembered the memory in fragments, the press of his lips, feeling desperate and bitter, the pull of his body against hers. She had yielded, not out of desire, but because trying to resist the bond felt like trying to stop the tide. In the darkness, just for a fleeting moment, she had almost believed he had actually wanted her.

But when it all came to an end, when his breath steadied and his body grew heavy with sleep, the last word he had uttered had been Sasha’s name, it was whispered into the silence like a knife which slipped between Ella’s ribs.

Now, dawn has finally crept in, it looked pale and cold through the windows of the cabin’. Ella lay awake, her body still, she fixed her eyes on the ceiling beams above. Cole’s arm was draped across her waist, feeling heavy and possessive, although she aware that it was only the pull of the bond and not an act of affection. The bond was what drew him in ways he always resented, binding them together no matter how loudly he cursed at it.

For just a dangerous second, she let herself imagine themselves as being ordinary, that his warmth actually meant something, that waking in his arms was a sweet beginning rather than a jail sentence. She studied him as she turned her head slightly, her cheek brushing against the rough pillow. His dark hair was tousled, his features being softened by sleep. Without the lines of scorn etched across his face, he looked younger, almost vulnerable.

Immediately he stirred, the illusion shattered. Around her, his arms tended and then recoiled as though it had been burned. He sat up in a swift manner, swinging his legs off the bed.

Ella’s stomach knotted.

Cole dragged a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. The room smelled of stale whiskey and pine smoke. He pulled on his trousers from the chair, moving with sharp, restless motions, as if, if he dresses quickly it could erase the night they had both spent together.

“Cole…” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

He froze mid-button, his shoulders rigid. For a moment, Ella thought he might actually soften, that he might acknowledge her, perhaps even apologize for his past behaviors. But when he turned facing her, his eyes were dark and stormy, it brimmed with something that was close to shame.

“Don’t,” he said flatly. “Don’t read any meaning into what happened last night. It meant nothing.”

Ella’s throat tightened. “Nothing?”

His jaw worked, anger flickering in his gaze. “You know I was drunk, you are aware of this. It—” He exhaled sharply, his fists clenching. “What happened, shouldn’t have happened.”

Her chest ached, as hollowness spread through her ribs. Around herself, She pulled the blanket tighter, it was as though it could shield her from the weight of his words. “Then why did you give in to it?”

He looked away, staring at the hearth’s ashes. “Because of this damn pull of the bond. Because the Goddess thought it’d be funny to tie me to someone who is human, who I’ll never come to love.” His voice cracked at the edges, raw with guilt, but his words cut through at the same. “You’re not her. You’ll never be her.”

Sasha. It has always been Sasha.

Ella swallowed hard, her hands trembling beneath the covers. “I know I’m not her, and I can never be” she whispered. “But I’ve never pretended otherwise.”

His head jerked toward her, eyes flashing. “Then don’t expect more of what happened from me. Don’t expect kindness from me, don’t expect love. Whatever happened last night was just a mistake, and it won’t ever repeat itself again.”

But even as he said those words, she could see the lie in his eyes , in his eyes were the flicker of guilt, the bond pulling at him despite every ounce of defiance he is exhibiting.

Ella forced herself to sit up, the blanket pooling at her waist. Her slip clung wrinkled to her body, a reminder of everything they had shared. She held her chin high, refusing to let him see her break. “You can despise me if you that what you desire. You can drink yourself numb and curse the Goddess. But don’t you dare make me feel like less than what I am.” Her voice shook, but she pressed on. “I didn’t ask for this bond either, Cole. And if last night was a mistake, then it’s one you chose by yourself to go ahead with.”

His breath hitched, as though her words struck something deeper than he expected. For a long moment, silence stretched between them, it felt heavy and raw. Then he turned away, snatching his shirt from the chair and shoving his arms into it.

“I need to go get some air,” he muttered, though it sounded more like a plea to escape.

As he shoved to open the door, Ella’s eyes followed him. The cool morning spilling in, mist curling all around his frame. When he was stepping outside, he didn’t bother to look back, the door slamming shut behind him.

The silence he left behind was louder than his very own presence.

Ella sat motionless, her pulse racing, her thoughts were all tangled up. She pressed her palms into her eyes, her tears finally slipping free. She hated that a part of her had wanted him to stay, had craved even the hollow comfort of his arms. She hated that the bond twisted her heart against her own will.

Pulling herself from bed, she crossed to the mirror that was propped against the wall. Her reflection stared back at her, her hair tangled, eyes rimmed red, lips swollen from kisses that had meant nothing. She could hardly recognized the girl staring back at her in the glass, her eyes were filled with stories is a night she wished she could rewrite.

A spark of defiance still lingered beneath the grief she felt, the humiliation she had gone through. She refused to be reduced to the shadow of Sasha, nor the mistake Cole wanted to label her. Since she has been bound to him, she could endure all his taunts but she refused to vanish or be pushed to the sidelines.

Her hand brushed over her stomach, twisting in her, was a sudden thought. What if last night had left more than just memories? The possibility lodged like a stone in her throat. She pushed it aside, unwilling to give fear any power to hold against her.

As she stepped back from the mirror, she straightened her spine. The day had already begun, with or without the presence of Cole. She refuse to let herself crumble just before meeting everyone at breakfast.

She could hear Cole footstep outside pacing across the porch, she could hear the scrape of chair being dragged loudly, the faint clink of his glass as he poured himself water to chase the whiskey that was still lodged in his veins.

Ella closed her eyes, drawing in a breath. Beneath her skin. The bond hummed faintly. It was insistent and unyielding but she just had to believe that she’s more than the bond.

When she finally opened the door to step into the new day, the sun was climbing through the mist, pale and hesitant, just like her. Cole sat hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. He didn’t bother looking at her, didn’t even utter a word to her.

And his silence perhaps is worse than any anger he had shown.