Chapter 5 5

Elena barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes, images of wolves with glowing eyes and razor-sharp teeth filled her mind. Damon's words echoed in her ears-latent werewolf, bloodline, Magnus. It was too much to process, too surreal to accept, and yet the weight of it felt undeniable.

She stared at the ceiling, the faint crackle of the lodge's fireplace filtering through the walls. The silence was heavy, broken only by the occasional creak of floorboards as someone passed in the hall. Finally, as the first pale light of dawn seeped through the curtains, Elena gave up on sleep entirely.

Throwing on a sweater, she left the room and wandered down the hall, her footsteps soft against the wooden floor. The lodge was quiet now, most of the pack still resting, but the scent of coffee drew her toward the kitchen.

To her surprise, Damon was already there, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand. His sharp gray eyes flicked up as she entered, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked finally, his voice low.

Elena shook her head, crossing her arms. "No. You?"

"Don't sleep much," he admitted, taking a sip of his coffee. "There's too much to think about."

"Like what?" she asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

Damon's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he set his mug down. "Keeping you alive, for starters."

Elena's stomach twisted, but she forced herself to stand tall. "You keep saying that like I'm some kind of liability."

"You're not a liability," he said evenly. "But you are a target. That makes things... complicated."

She leaned against the doorway, her arms still crossed. "Why me, though? Why would Magnus go to all this trouble for someone he doesn't even know?"

Damon hesitated, his jaw tightening as if weighing how much to tell her. "Magnus doesn't need to know you personally to see your value. You're part of a rare bloodline, Elena. Your mother was one of the strongest wolves in our pack before she left. Magnus sees you as a way to claim that power for himself."

The words hit her like a punch. "My mother-she never told me any of this. She made it seem like..." Elena's voice trailed off, the ache of betrayal settling in.

"She was trying to protect you," Damon said softly. "She gave up her pack, her family, her identity to make sure you'd have a chance at a normal life. But Magnus's reach is long, and his patience even longer."

Elena sank into a chair at the small kitchen table, her fingers tightening around the edge. "What happens if he gets to me?"

Damon's eyes darkened. "He'll force your transition. Turn you into something... unstable. If that happens, you won't just be a threat to my pack-you'll be a threat to yourself."

A cold shiver ran down her spine, but she squared her shoulders. "Then I guess we make sure that doesn't happen."

A faint smirk touched Damon's lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You're braver than most would be in your position."

Elena rolled her eyes. "I'm not brave. I'm terrified. But sitting around panicking isn't going to solve anything."

"That's a good attitude to have," Damon said. "You'll need it in the days to come."

Before she could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Kane appeared in the doorway, his expression as grim as ever.

"Damon," he said, ignoring Elena entirely. "We've got a problem."

Damon straightened, his easy demeanor shifting instantly to one of sharp focus. "What is it?"

"Scouts found tracks on the southern border," Kane said. "Magnus's wolves. They're getting closer."

Elena's breath hitched, but Damon's face remained calm, though his eyes were sharp. "How many?"

"Four, maybe five," Kane replied. "They didn't cross the line, but they're testing us."

Damon nodded, his jaw tight. "Double the patrols. Keep them out."

"What about her?" Kane asked, jerking his head toward Elena.

Elena bristled at the dismissal in his tone, but Damon cut in before she could say anything.

"She stays here," Damon said firmly. "She's under my protection."

Kane's gaze flicked to Elena, his expression skeptical. "She's not pack, Damon. She doesn't belong here."

"She does now," Damon said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "End of discussion."

Kane's lips pressed into a thin line, but he gave a curt nod and disappeared back down the hall.

Elena exhaled slowly, the tension in the room easing slightly. "Not the friendliest guy, is he?"

"He's cautious," Damon said. "It's his job to be."

"And me being here makes his job harder," Elena guessed.

Damon didn't deny it. Instead, he picked up his mug and gestured toward the back door. "Come on. There's something I want to show you."

Curiosity tempered by suspicion, Elena followed him outside. The forest beyond the lodge was alive with the sound of birds and the rustle of leaves, the dawn light filtering through the trees in golden streams. Damon led her along a narrow path, his movements sure and steady.

"Where are we going?" she asked, trying to keep up.

"You'll see," he said cryptically.

They emerged into a small clearing, where a wide, shallow stream cut through the earth. The water sparkled in the sunlight, its gentle rush a soothing counterpoint to Elena's racing thoughts.

Damon turned to her, his expression soft but serious. "You asked why Magnus wants you. Why any of this matters."

She nodded, her throat tight.

"This is your chance to understand," he said. "To figure out who you really are."

Elena frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Damon stepped closer, his gray eyes locking onto hers. "Listen to the forest. Feel it. Let it guide you."

"I don't know what you mean," she said, her voice shaking.

"Yes, you do," he said gently. "It's in your blood. Just... trust it."

She hesitated, but something in Damon's voice compelled her to close her eyes. She took a deep breath, letting the sounds and scents of the forest wash over her.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, deep within her, something stirred-a faint, instinctual pull she couldn't explain.

Her eyes snapped open, meeting Damon's steady gaze.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"That," Damon said, his voice low, "is the beginning of the truth."