Chapter 343: Could You Love Me?

I could tell Vito’s attitude toward Whitney had changed.In the beginning, his need to control her was suffocating. He used to parade other women in front of her like trophies, like he wanted to crush her spirit and watch her swallow it.

But now... now he looked like he was trying to win her. He even proposed marriage.

With the history between the Blackwells and the Sanders, that kind of proposal wasn’t small. It meant he had loosened his hatred. It meant he wanted to build a home with her, to claim her as his mate in front of everyone, to keep her close like something treasured.

I couldn’t understand what had happened between them to cause such a drastic shift.

But the moment Whitney offered herself for my antidote, Vito’s face hardened.

He pushed her away.

"All you care about is your family," he snapped. "What about me? After all these years, do you really not like me at all?"

Whitney didn’t answer.

Her silence was loud enough.

She looked like she wanted to lash out, to cut him with words, but she didn’t even bother. It was like she was tired of pretending. Tired of lying. Tired of giving him anything real.

The wind rustled through the leaves behind them.

My heart pounded hard. I stood frozen, ready to jump in if Vito lost control. In a place like this, anger didn’t stay in the eyes. It moved into the hands. It moved into teeth.

Vito’s chest rose and fell. He swallowed his rage.

Then he turned as if he would leave.

Whitney grabbed his sleeve.

"That’s poison," she said quickly, voice shaking. "I beg you... give me the antidote, please?"

He shook her off.

Whitney dropped to her knees so fast it looked practiced. Like her body had learned how to beg before her mind could protest. She groveled in front of him, head lowered, hands clasped.

It broke something in me.

"Vito," she pleaded, "Elena has suffered enough. Please. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything you want—just let her go."

I couldn’t watch anymore.

I rushed out and threw my arms around Whitney, pulling her against me like I could shield her from the shame.

Her tearful eyes met mine. "Elena..."

I tightened my grip and pulled her up with all my strength. My throat burned with everything I couldn’t say.

Whitney saw the concern in my eyes. She saw the guilt too.

And she smiled gently, like she was comforting me instead.

"Elena," she whispered, "it’s okay."

While she spoke, Vito slipped away quietly, disappearing like he didn’t want to be seen feeling anything.

I shook my head at Whitney, trying to tell her she didn’t have to do this. Not for me. Not ever.

Whitney’s face didn’t change. "Elena... what you think is degrading, I’ve been living with for a long time. It doesn’t bother me anymore. If I can get the antidote, it’s worth it."

Her calm tone hurt more than her tears.

At least I had a happy childhood.

What had her life been, if kneeling came as naturally as breathing?

I couldn’t speak, so I just held her tighter.

And Whitney... she comforted me again.

"Elena," she murmured, "the worst is over. Right now, this is the happiest I’ve been since I was five. I’m glad I get to see you and hug you."

Monsters.

What had they done to my sister?

"Elena!" Yael’s cheerful voice floated over. "I sent the items you asked for."

He walked up, then stopped when he saw my wet eyes. His expression darkened immediately.

"Who bullied you?" he asked.

His gaze snapped to Whitney, sharp and dangerous.

Whitney didn’t flinch. She stared back coolly. "Who else but you? Give Elena the antidote."

Yael’s mouth tightened. "Whitney, if I give her the antidote, Elena will leave me."

"Keeping her sick will only harm her," Whitney shot back.

"No, it won’t." Yael’s voice turned stubborn. "I know what I’m doing. I care about her too much to hurt her. You can trust me."

Trust.

I almost laughed.

Yael suddenly took my hand again, like we were close, like he hadn’t trapped me here. "Elena, I checked the kitchen. Today’s meal is extravagant." He smiled, almost shy. "I’m sorry for all the times you went hungry with me. I’ll take better care of you."

I pulled my hand away.

He didn’t look offended. He simply went to fetch a plate of fruit and offered it to me with a pleased, fawning smile. "Dinner will be ready soon. Eat something light first."

I stared at the fruit like it might bite back.

Yael panicked and waved his hands quickly. "There’s no poison in it! Look—I’ll eat first."

He took a bite.

Only after I watched him swallow without anything happening did I take some, then pass it to Whitney. Her appetite was tiny. Whether it was fruit or the meal later, she barely ate.

During dinner, Vito kept serving her meat. Whitney quietly moved it aside again and again, as if the smell alone made her stomach turn.

I noticed and filled her plate with vegetables instead. She hesitated, then ate a little, like she was forcing it down for my sake.

After dinner, my phone buzzed.

A photo from Lewis.

On the screen was a table piled with the small trinkets I’d made—grass animals and tiny woven shapes, laid out carefully like they mattered.

My chest tightened.

I smiled faintly and texted back: I made these. Impressive, right?

His reply came fast: Yes. Elena is the best.

I sent him a photo of Bloom Valley under a sky full of stars. The darkness here was clean, like the city couldn’t reach it. The stars looked close enough to touch.

Lewis, next time... let’s come here together, okay?

Okay.

Then he added: Get some rest. Don’t worry about me—I’m fine. And... can you send some rabbits and turtles to Riley for me? She’d love them.

I smiled again, but it felt fragile.

"Elena."

Whitney came over and draped a blanket around my shoulders. She sat beside me, close enough that our arms touched.

"Are you texting Lewis again?" she asked softly.

I nodded.

"Lewis treats you well, doesn’t he?"

I nodded again and typed a reply on my phone, then showed it to her.

He’s the best person in the world.

Whitney’s lips curved just slightly. "Lucky you," she murmured.

She linked her arm with mine, leaning in like she was afraid the night might take me away again.

"It’s been twenty-three years since we watched the stars together," she said quietly. "Remember when you dragged me onto the roof to wait for a meteor shower? I fell asleep. But you wrapped me in a blanket and woke me up just in time."

I blinked.

"You remember?" I mouthed.

Whitney’s smile turned bittersweet. "For me, the only happy memories are from before I was five. I don’t dare forget anything." She looked up at the sky. "Elena... what wish did you make back then?"

My wish?

I barely remembered.

I was seven. She was four.

All I could recall was the awe of the shooting star ripping across the sky. The wish itself had slipped away with time.

Whitney continued softly, "I wished to always love Elena and stay with her forever. Maybe the sky heard me, because... here we are again." She glanced at me. "Do you think there’ll be another meteor shower tonight?"

I shook my head. I hadn’t heard of any.

I reached out and stroked her face gently.

You’ve endured so much.

Whitney hugged my waist like she needed to anchor herself. "Elena... I don’t want to be separated from you again."

Her voice was so small it almost didn’t sound like her.

Not long after, she fell asleep in my arms—peacefully, for what felt like the first time in years.

A while later, Vito approached quietly. We exchanged a look, both of us careful.

"It’s cold here," he whispered. "She’s weak. Let me carry her back to rest."

The valley air had dropped sharply at night. I loosened my hold slowly and let him lift Whitney into his arms.

Vito carried her away without another word.

I stayed seated, staring at the stars, feeling too awake to rest.

When I turned back, Yael was there.

Watching me.

His expression was tight, resentful, and hungry in a way that made my skin prickle.

"Elena," he said.

The way he looked at me sent a shiver down my spine.

He sat beside me and pulled the blanket closer around my shoulders, tucking it like he was trying to prove he could be gentle. Then, word by word, he asked, "Elena... can you hold me?"

I didn’t move.

His eyes narrowed. "You can hold Whitney, but not me? Why is that?"

Then he gestured with his hands, almost pleading now. "Just hold me like you used to... when we were kids."

Something in his voice made me understand.

This wasn’t about romance.

This was about a boy who never got warmth when he needed it, and now didn’t know how to ask for it without turning it into a demand.

So I opened my arms.

Yael leaned into me.

A nearly six-foot-three man curling into my embrace was beyond strange. It didn’t feel natural. It felt like holding a storm in human skin.

But he didn’t seem to notice.

His face softened with pure contentment, like this was all he had ever wanted.

He closed his eyes and murmured against my shoulder, "Elena... could you love me?"

He swallowed, voice shaking.

"I’m not asking for much," he whispered. "Just a little. Just a tiny bit of love. Please?"