Chapter 3 The Breaking Point
“Uh!” A muted shout slipped from Drake as agony surged through his forehead. Crimson blood flowed down his face in dark streams, marking his skin. In Elena Monroe's shaking hand rested the stone she had just hit him with, its rough edges now stained with his blood.
All remained motionless, gazes fixed in astonishment. Nobody would have predicted that gentle Elena, that is so composed, would ever explode at Drake.
Those once-soft eyes now blazed with a fierce, unyielding red, watching him without an ounce of remorse. The stone slipped away, landing on the ground with a dull, heavy whisper.
.
How could he?
He understood that the time she spent in Atwater Village marked her deepest, most painful wounds. And still, he had contorted that hurt, wielding it against her like a dagger to the side.
Elena straightened her face. Her tone, gravelly with emotion she refused to release, the sharp sting of her voice snapped through the silence. “Whatever bound us… is gone, Drake.”
A haze enveloped Drake’s thoughts. Amidst the intense, pulsing ache, a memory emerged...
Beneath a golden sunset, a girl in a school uniform had playfully pushed him against a wall. The sound of her laughter wove through his senses. But, the moment her face began to emerge from the blur, an ache, sharp as a blade, cleaved through his chest, shattering the illusion.
"Drake, say something… are you okay?” Cassandra's voice pierced the mist clouding his thoughts, tugging him back to reality.
Drake's hand reached out, trembling, as his fingertips grazed the slick warmth of blood.
"Goddess of the Hunt!" The curse escaped before he had the chance to stop it.
His inflamed eyes shifted to Elena, fury igniting in his heart. However, as he rushed at her, Cassandra seized his arm with all her strength, restraining him.
Marcus entered, pulling Elena with him, his wolf barely contained under his tense posture.
Elena was already exhausted. The fire that had driven her assault seeped from her blood, replaced by trembling emptiness. Her knees buckled, and just as it seemed she might fall, a firm grip swept around her waist, holding her upright..
Her gaze rose, curiosity blooming—only to falter in its tracks.
The man who was holding her wore black from head to toe. A sleek, fitted suit under an extended coat. The fire in his eyes settled on Drake, with a blistering stare.
An indistinct similarity between him and Elena was clear.
As soon as Drake laid eyes on him, his anger diminished, giving way to pure terror.
"M-Mr. Dolphus..."
Dolphus didn’t give him a look. He loosened his tie, wrapping it with quiet care around the wound marking Elena’s forehead. As if she were weightless, he carried her effortlessly.
Without looking back, he headed for his parked car, there was a muted intensity in every deliberate stride.
“Mr. Dolphus!” Drake rang, lagging behind, urgency in his tone.
Dolphus carefully set Elena down in the backseat, then turned, his face inscrutable and frigid as ice.
His eyes focused on Drake. His voice was soft, yet each word conveyed deadly purpose. "Who inspired you to put your hands on her?"
Drake recoiled. His lips parted, searching for the right answer for him.
The car door banged shut, interrupting him.
---
In the medical center
Elena and Drake went into the emergency room one after the other. The nurse got ready to treat Elena's head, grabbing the scarf that covered her neck.
"Could I please leave it on?" Elena’s voice was gentle, muted by the material.
"Remove it," Dolphus's deep voice interrupted, strong and resolute.
Elena’s hand hovered for a moment before pulling the scarf away, exposing the vicious bruise that ringed her neck
The door creaked faintly as Drake stepped out from the nearby room.
A sharp pause strangled his breath.
Was I the one that did this? The idea cut through his thoughts, unsettling and acute.
However, his focus shifted to Dolphus, whose eyes burned with a threatening sense of protectiveness.
Drake advanced carefully, his head bent down. "Mr. Dolphus… I… I could not maintain my composure." "I didn't intend to—"
Dolphus’s eyes were inscrutable. The energy radiating from him filled the air with weight.
"You found yourself in the hospital on your 16th birthday because of Elena," he stated, his tone heavy like iron shackles. "After a decade, you find yourself here once more." "However, this time… you placed her here."
Drake tightened his hands into fists. His wolf whined under the overwhelming guilt.
Cassandra, next to him, became motionless. Dolphus's words affected her as well, piercing and harsh.
In a silent act of defense, Drake positioned himself before Cassandra.
"I take responsibility." "She was not involved in it."
Dolphus spared Cassandra a glance, then let his eyes settle coldly on Drake.
"Did no one ever teach you why the Farringtons have shackled themselves to the Hamiltons for all these while?”
Drake stayed quiet, his heart racing.
"Elena is the reason," Dolphus stated plainly, but the room shook with the weight of that reality. "She is the final descendant of Elder Ralphael Farrington."
---
Later that evening
Once Marcus settled the bills, the rest, including Cassandra and Drake, departed. Elena continued to be monitored.
Seven stitches adorned her forehead. Her body throbbed, yet her mind wouldn't relax.
Dolphus stayed back. He was standing close to the sofa beside the window, his phone was on his ear, while he spoke in a low tone.
Elena studied her hands, the ghost of expression lost in her hollow stare, fingertips grazing the silent stories hidden in her skin.
At last, Dolphus whispered, "Come back by next Monday," before concluding the call.
When Dolphus lifted his eyes, it fixed on the bruise on Elena’s neck. His jaw tightened.
"What happened?" His words came soft, but the storm coiled beneath it was impossible to miss.
Surprise flickered in Elena’s eyes as her sluggish thoughts stumbled after reality. "Excuse me?" She met his gaze, and it dawned on her what Dolphus was talking about. "Oh… Drake believed I mentioned something to Cassandra… he hit me."
Dolphus's eyes grew even darker.
Unnoticed by them, Drake lingered near the door, the wolf inside him lamenting as he listened to all.
"I was referring to your neck," Dolphus explained, his tone sharp.
Elena's face became flat, her eyes unfocused. "It happened during the wedding of my brother, Elijah Monroe." Her voice lacked emotion, the hurt concealed beneath learned indifference.
The Monroe family expected me to cover his wedding… his new car, his home. "I turned it down, and the space between us shattered.”
A ghost of a laugh drifted from Elena’s lips, cold as untouched stone. "They arrived at my university and attempted to take my tuition." When that failed… They intended to abduct me. "Trade me away to finance Elijah's wedding."
The mark on her neck was a reminder of that conflict.
Dolphus remained silent for quite a while. His eyes remained on her, melting into unusual tenderness.
"Elena," he eventually spoke, his tone soft yet solid as rock. "What I remarked eight years back… remains unchanged."
Elena’s lips opened, a question emerging, but the words got stuck in her throat.





















































