Chapter 6

The next afternoon, I went back to the apartment to pack my last few things.

The moment I opened the door, I was hit by that cloying, sweet scent again. Isabella.

The door swung open to the sound of sizzling and spatulas clanking.

Someone was cooking in the kitchen.

I walked over and saw a familiar figure with her back to me.

Isabella, wearing my silk robe, was flipping a steak on the grill.

My robe.

My kitchen.

She heard my footsteps and turned around.

"Elena!" A flash of panic crossed her face, but she quickly composed herself. "You're back."

"What are you doing in my home?"

"Damon asked me to come," she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was so frightened after what happened last night, and he said it would be safer here."

She turned back to the steak, her movements practiced, as if she owned the place.

"You're wearing my clothes."

"Oh, this?" Isabella looked down at the silk robe. "My clothes got dirty, and Damon said I could just grab something of yours."

Just grab something.

I took a deep breath, fighting to stay calm.

Her scent had saturated the entire apartment. It was nauseating.

"Elena, what's wrong?" She turned to me, her eyes wide with innocent confusion. "You look pale."

"It's nothing."

Just then, the sound of the shower started in the bathroom.

Damon was taking a shower.

"He'll be out soon," Isabella explained helpfully. "I'm making him dinner to thank him for saving my life last night."

Such a perfect excuse.

"Elena!" Damon walked out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. "Why are you back?"

His tone was far from welcoming.

"I'm here to get my things."

"What things?" He frowned. "Weren't you coming back to apologize?"

Apologize?

"I have nothing to apologize for."

"Elena, stop being difficult," he said, walking to the closet to get dressed. "Isabella almost got hurt last night, and it was all because of your stubbornness."

Because of my stubbornness?

"Yes," Isabella chimed in at the perfect moment, her eyes welling up with tears. "If Elena hadn't rejected the mate bond and caused all that chaos in the pack, those rogues would never have targeted me."

Such flawless logic.

I didn't argue, just walked straight to my design studio.

I still had some important blueprints to collect.

"Elena, where are you going?" Isabella called after me.

"My studio."

"Oh," her voice was filled with interest. "Can I see it? I've always been so curious about where you work."

I didn't answer, just pushed open the studio door.

But Isabella had already followed me in.

"Wow!" she exclaimed dramatically. "So many beautiful designs!"

She walked over to my drafting table, where some of my newest project sketches were laid out.

"Are these all your work?" She picked up a blueprint. "You're so talented."

"Put it down," I said coldly.

"Sorry," she said with a look of pure innocence, but her hand moved slowly. "I just wanted to admire it."

Just then, the glass of red wine in her other hand "accidentally" tipped.

The deep red liquid spilled across the blueprint, staining the white paper instantly.

It was my resort proposal for the Crescent Moon Pack.

"Ah!" Isabella cried out, then her foot "slipped," and she stumbled backward.

She fell hard onto the floor.

"Isabella!" Damon's roar came from the doorway.

He rushed into the studio and saw Isabella on the ground, his eyes blazing with fury.

"Elena!" he snarled. "What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything." I looked at the ruined blueprint on the floor. "She fell on her own."

"On her own?" He looked at me in disbelief. "Isabella, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"My back... it hurts so much..." Isabella moaned in his arms. "Elena pushed me..."

"I didn't touch her."

"Elena!" Damon stood up, the golden light in his eyes flaring dangerously. "You've lost your mind!"

A low growl rumbled in his chest as his Alpha aura flooded the room.

"First the car crash, now this," he advanced on me. "Elena, you are completely out of control."

"I told you, I didn't push her."

"Enough!" He slammed his fist into the wall. "I am done with your tantrums and your jealousy! If you dare touch Isabella again, I will officially, by Alpha decree, banish you. I'll make you a Rogue!"

A Rogue.

The cruelest punishment in the werewolf world.

It meant being cast out forever, never allowed to join another pack, destined to die alone.

"Do you hear me?" his eyes were full of menace. "Now, apologize to Isabella!"

I looked at Isabella, who was still feigning agony on the floor.

I looked at Damon, who was burning with rage.

Before Damon could issue his verdict, I cut him off, my voice chillingly calm. "There's no need. I accept the banishment. I will be a Rogue."