Chapter 155
Ellie POV
The gardens are doing entirely too much.
Everything is green and alive and unfairly peaceful, sunlight filtering through the leaves like it’s been curated for a painting instead of a hospital-adjacent courtyard where I’m very much still recovering from almost dying. Flowers crowd the paths in careful bursts of color. Bees hum lazily. Somewhere, water trickles.
It’s… nice.
Which is the problem.
I sit in my wheelchair with my hands folded in my lap, watching a petal drift loose and spiral to the stone, and try to ignore the low flutter in my chest. I don’t know why I’m nervous. I’ve faced down unfair exams, Alpha councils, my stepfather, and the concept of death and fate itself.
Calling my future husband out here shouldn’t be this hard.
And yet.
I’ve never asked for him like this before. Not on my terms in this life.
The thought lands and sticks, uncomfortable.
With the sun warm on my face and the flowers in bloom, it almost feels like something it isn’t.
Almost like a date.
I scowl at the thought.
He shows up five minutes later, because it’s not like he was far. Punctual, infuriating, and unfairly easy on the eyes in a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled just enough to be distracting on those muscles. He stops when he sees me, his head tilting.
“You called?” he asks, brows lifting slightly. “Should I be concerned, or flattered?”
“Undecided,” I say. “Sit.”
A corner of his mouth twitches, but he does, lowering himself onto the bench across from me and not a conversation that could change both of our lives.
I’m quiet. Nervous.
“So,” he says, folding his hands loosely. “It’s pretty out here. I should bring my book out
”
“I’ve thought about your offer,” I say, cutting straight to it. My heart thuds once, hard. “And… it’s not bad.”
That earns me a look. Sharp, attentive. He sits up a bit straighter.
I appreciate that more than I want to admit.
“But I’m not accepting it outright,” I continue. “If this happens, it happens on my terms.”
“I expecte nothing less,” he says easily. “I like terms. Agreed.”
I blink. “You didn’t even ask what they are.”
He shrugs. “They’re yours. Which means they’re fair, thought out. Plus I don’t really care.”
The sincerity throws me for half a second.
30 Bonus
I recover.
“Okay, regardless you need to know. You’re apart of this…” I search for the word.
“Mess?” He offers.
I scowl. “First,” I-say, lifting my chin, “I’ll accept the bond. We get married. Like you said, the marriage is loveless, business. No romance. No touching unless I say so.”
“Okay,” he says without hesitation.
I stare at him. “Just… okay?”
“Your body, your call,” he replies. “Seems simple.”
That shouldn’t be attractive.
It is.
I clear my throat. “Okay. Second. I can say no at any time. To anything.”
“Agreed.”
“I’m staying in school. I’m finishing my education.”
“Love an educated women.”
I just stare. His relaxed attitude throwing me for a loop.
“You didn’t used to?”
“I changed,” he shrugged. “So have you.”
I go on, because I was expecting more of a fight. “I will not be a decorative Luna,” I add sharply. “I’m not standing behind you smiling while you make decisions.”
A faint smirk tugs at his mouth. “Good. I hate smiling.”
Despite myself, I snort.
“And,” I say, sobering, “I want full access to reopen my mother’s case. I want to investigate my stepfather myself”
His expression hardens, something interesting flashing behind his eyes. “Done”
Thesitate then, fingers twisting together in my lap. This is the part 1 hate. The part that makes my stomach knot.
“There’s… one more thing.”
He waits.
“Because it’s a loveless marriage,” I say carefully, “we should be allowed other partners.”
For the first time, Dominic pauses.
It’s subtle. Just a fraction of stillness. But I catch it, and my chest tightens.
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