Chapter 161: Close Bond

Until now, everything had been guesses.

Just like before when we suspected Camilla had been the one behind my death. Without proof, it was all smoke and shadows. No matter how certain I felt in my bones, certainty meant nothing without evidence.

So I kept digging.

Kept watching.

Kept waiting.

I needed the truth more than anything else.

Was the person who had hunted me so patiently… really someone who had grown up beside me?

Lewis didn’t stop what he was doing. His hands stayed firm at my waist, steady and grounded, moving with a calm confidence that eased my breathing. The way he touched me wasn’t rushed. It was controlled like he was anchoring me without words.

“We were right,” he said quietly. “She isn’t your sister. At least, when that DNA sample was taken, your real sister was still alive. But after all these years…”

He paused. “…there’s no trace of her now.”

The moment the truth settled, my chest tightened.

So many emotions crashed into each other relief, rage, grief until I couldn’t tell one from the other.

I had asked the universe so many times why.

Why would she hate me so deeply?

Even if my sister had fallen into the river as a child, it wasn’t my fault. Why would that turn into years of calculated cruelty?

And now I finally understood.

“She came back for revenge from the very beginning,” I said hoarsely.

“Yes,” Lewis confirmed.

Everything made sense now.

Why my downfall had been so precise.

Why every step I took led me deeper into ruin.

Why escape was never an option.

She had planned it for years.

My fingers clenched around the sheets. “My sister… do you think she’s still alive?”

I barely remembered her face anymore. Just faded photos from long ago. And even those had vanished after Camilla returned.

Not by accident.

She had erased her on purpose. Slowly. Completely.

“To make us forget,” I whispered. “So no one would question her place.”

Lewis’s touch softened. “You should prepare yourself for the worst,” he said gently. “Now that we know who Camilla really is, do you want to warn the Morrigans?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. They’ve already lost too much. Grandma’s still in the hospital, and suspicion has already started to circle her. Camilla won’t act recklessly right now.”

I looked up at him. “If we expose her too early, we warn her. And we still don’t have enough to pin her down.”

“What if someone else gets hurt?” he asked.

My gaze hardened.

“Then they’ll live with it.”

When I died, not one of them searched for me. Not one stood up for me. That silence carved this cold place inside my chest.

They owe me.

Every single one of them.

If I don’t make it to the end of this, then it’s just fate collecting its due.

“Her plans were already disrupted the moment I came back,” I continued. “Now that she’s carrying a child, she’ll move faster. Can you place people close to the Morrigans? Quiet eyes. Listeners.”

“I’ll handle it,” Lewis said without hesitation.

“We watch from every angle,” I said. “The moment she slips, we catch her.”

Camilla’s bond ceremony was scheduled right after the New Year.

I couldn’t help the faint curl of anticipation in my chest. When the Hudsons discovered the truth about the child she carried… the fallout would be beautiful.

I was deep in thought when Lewis interrupted gently.

“New Year’s is almost here. She won’t act during the holidays,” he said. “Let’s not waste this time on her.”

His thumb brushed my side, slow and grounding. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” I admitted. “Much better.”

His warmth shifted closer. His touch lingered, deliberate, patient.

“Elena,” he murmured near my ear, his voice low and careful, “if you’re really feeling better… does that mean I can ”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t need to.

The quiet tension between us answered for him.

And this time, I didn’t pull away.

…

Just a moment ago, my mind had been burning with plans how to corner Camilla, how to end her game once and for all.

And then, without warning, Lewis shifted the air between us.

The tension changed.

Not sharp anymore.

Heavy. Warm. Close.

“I’m sorry, Elena,” he murmured, his voice low.

“I know you’re tired. I just… sometimes my control slips.”

Before he could finish, I leaned forward and wrapped myself around him, brushing my teeth lightly against his ear.

“Lewis,” I whispered, “you said it yourself. We’re married. For things like this… you don’t need to ask.”

My fingers slipped under his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly, one by one. I pressed a soft bite against his throat, right where his pulse jumped under my lips.

“You can touch me,” I said quietly. “Those hands of yours… just be gentle, okay?”

His eyes darkened instantly, heat flaring in them like something ancient waking up. The next second, his mouth covered mine, stealing my breath in a deep, consuming kiss.

I didn’t resist.

I wanted it.

How could I not, when the man holding me carried both restraint and fire so effortlessly?

Sometimes I wondered would he always be this careful with me? Always asking, always waiting?

The thought made my chest ache in the best way.

I felt how much he respected me. How he treated me like something precious, not something to claim and discard. This bond, this marriage it hadn’t come easily for either of us.

And I wanted to protect it.

Being close to him didn’t feel like obligation.

It felt like choice.

What I didn’t expect was how completely we would lose track of time.

Day blurred into night.

Night slipped back into morning.

We barely left the house, only stopping to eat or rest before being drawn back together again. The world outside felt distant, unimportant.

Now I understood why Lewis never wanted to stay at the Hale Residence.

It was too crowded. Too many eyes. Too many rules.

Here, in this quiet villa, there was freedom. Privacy. Space to breathe.

The place was tucked perfectly into the city, hidden from tall buildings and curious gazes. Snow drifted past the glass walls while warmth wrapped around us inside.

When he pinned me gently against the window, the cold white world outside only made the heat between us sharper.

There was something thrilling about it secretive, forbidden, alive.

The next morning, when I finally woke up, I realized Lewis was still beside me.

Even in sleep, he held me close, our bodies tangled like neither of us knew how to let go.

“Darling,” he murmured, his morning voice rough and deep, “you’re awake?”

I looked into his half-lidded eyes and smiled.

Once, he had felt untouchable. Like someone far above me.

Now, he was here real, warm, mine.

I had pulled him down from that distance. Made him feel. Made him want.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pressed my face against his.

“I like you,” I said softly.

The haze in his eyes cleared just a little.

“Say that again.”

I leaned closer, my lips brushing his ear.

Slowly. Clearly.

“I like you.”

Something bright flashed through his gaze pure, unguarded joy.

And in that moment, I knew.

This bond wasn’t built on instinct alone.

It was built on choice.

And neither of us was letting go.

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