Chapter 12 Among Wolves
His fingers were still on her chin.
Veyra sat frozen in the leather chair, her heart slamming against her ribs, her breath caught somewhere in her throat. Dorian’s thumb moved slowly across her jaw, and she realized he was not being tender. He was examining her. Looking at the bruises. The split lip. The healing cuts on her cheekbone.
"You look like you lost a fight with a truck," he said.
She blinked. The spell broke. "I feel like I did."
His hand dropped. He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets. The moment was gone. She was not sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
"The bruises will heal in about a week," he said. "Maybe less. I’ll have Solene bring you some arnica cream."
"Solene?"
"The housekeeper Lin Solene. You’ve met her."
Veyra nodded. She had met her. The woman in the gray dress who did not ask questions.
"When they heal," Dorian said, "you’re coming with me to the old house. To meet my grandmother."
Veyra’s stomach dropped. "Your grandmother? The one in the hospital?"
"She’s out now. She’s staying at the family estate. She wants to meet you." He said it flatly, like he was reading a grocery list. "She doesn’t know about the contract. She thinks this is a real marriage. You need to act like it."
"Act like what, exactly?"
"Act like you love me." His gray eyes met hers. "Can you do that?"
She wanted to say yes. She wanted to be confident and capable and sure of herself. But the truth was, she had spent seven years loving a man who did not deserve it, and she was not sure she remembered how to pretend.
"I’ll try," she said.
He handed her a tablet. It was thin and looked expensive,
"The Thorne family," he said. "Everyone you need to know. Names, faces, positions, weaknesses. Memorize it by tomorrow."
She looked at the screen. There were dozens of names. Photographs. Family trees. Notes in small, precise text.
"Your family is huge," she said.
"My father’s family." His voice was cold. "I don’t claim most of them. But you need to know who they are so you know who to avoid."
She scrolled through the profiles. Caspian was there. His photo was smaller than the others, tucked in a corner of the family tree. Illegitimate son. Not in succession.
"Your half-brother," she said.
Dorian’s jaw tightened. "Yes."
"He never mentioned you. In seven years of marriage, he never once told me he had a brother."
"Because he hates me. And I hate him." Dorian turned toward the fire. The flames reflected in his eyes. "My father had an affair with his mother while my mother was still alive. Caspian was born when I was two. I didn’t find out until I was fourteen. My mother found out when she was dying."
Veyra said nothing. There was nothing to say.
"Memorize the tablet," Dorian said. "Solene will come for you at eight tomorrow morning. She’ll help you get ready."
He walked out of the library without looking back.
*
*
The next morning, Solene arrived with an armful of dresses.
Veyra stood in front of the mirror in her room while the housekeeper held up one dress after another. They were all beautiful and very expensive.
"This one," Solene said. She held up a deep green dress, it was simple with long sleeves and a neckline that was modest but not matronly.
"I don’t know," Veyra said. "I’ve never worn anything like that."
"You’ll look elegant," Solene said. "Trust me."
Veyra trusted her. She did not know why. Maybe because Solene was the first woman who had been kind to her without wanting something in return.
She put on the dress. It fit perfectly. Solene did her hair, pulling it back from her face in a soft twist. She did Veyra’s makeup. Subtle. Enough to cover the bruises but not enough to look like she was trying too hard.
When Solene stepped back, Veyra looked in the mirror.
She did not recognize herself.
The woman staring back had clear skin and bright eyes and a quiet confidence that Veyra had never felt. The dress hugged her body in a way that made her look almost beautiful. Almost.
"You look like a Thorne," Solene said.
Veyra touched her cheek. The bruises were still there, hidden under makeup, but she could feel them. Reminders of what Xiomara had done to her.
She heard the door open behind her.
Dorian stood in the doorway. He was wearing a dark suit ans a tie. His hair was neat. He looked like a different person from the man in the library. He looked like a CEO.
He stared at her.
His gray eyes moved over her face, her dress, her hair. He did not speak. He just stood there, his hand still on the doorframe, his expression unreadable.
Veyra’s heart started pounding again. She tried to smile. "Do I look okay?"
He blinked. Something shifted in his face. Then it was gone.
"You look acceptable," he said. "Let’s go."
She followed him out of the room. She did not notice the way his eyes lingered on her when she turned away. She was too busy thinking about the family she was about to meet. The people who would judge her. The grandmother who thought she was in love with a man she barely knew.
She was so nervous she could barely breathe.
*
*
The Thorne estate was an hour outside the city.
Veyra watched the landscape change through the car window. Suburbs gave way to farms. Farms gave way to forests. Forests gave way to iron gates and a long, winding driveway lined with ancient oak trees.
The house was not just a house. It was a castle. Gray stone. Turrets. A front door that looked like it belonged in a history book.
"Your family has money," Veyra said.
"My grandmother’s family had money," Dorian said. "My father married into it. Then he spent most of it on his mistress and his bastard son."