"True." Oakley comes fully into the room, sits on the edge of my bed. "But he made his choice to handle it alone. All we can do is be here when he gets back."
"If he gets back."
"He will." Oakley's certainty is absolute. "The bonds won't let him stay away much longer. He's already barely holding on."
As if in response, the bond flares—sharp, painful, like someone drove a knife into my chest. I gasp, hand flying to my sternum.
"Vespera?" Oakley's at my side immediately. "What happened?"
"The bond." I'm breathing hard. "Something's wrong. Something's really wrong."
Downstairs, Corvus swears. Loudly. Which means he felt it too.
Footsteps on the stairs, then Corvus is in the doorway, laptop abandoned. "He's in distress. Major distress. We need to—"
My phone rings. Dorian's name flashing on the screen.
I answer. "Dorian?"
"Hey." His voice is wrong. Too controlled. Too careful. "Sorry for the radio silence. Things have been... intense."
"What happened?" I demand. "We felt something through the bond. Are you okay?"
"Define okay." A bitter laugh. "My parents ambushed me with three Omega suitors and spent the day interrogating me about why I didn't audition for the showcase."
My stomach drops. "Omega suitors?"
"Perfect, polished, desperate. Everything they think I should want." He sounds exhausted. "And when I wasn't interested, they started asking questions. Why I'm distracted. Why I'm breaking four-year patterns. What—or who—is distracting me from my responsibilities."
"Do they know about us?"
"No. Not yet. But they're suspicious. My mother especially." He pauses. "She thinks I'm making the same mistakes Julian did. Throwing away my future for someone inappropriate."
"And what did you tell her?"
"That I'm focusing on my academics. That theater isn't my only priority anymore." Another bitter laugh. "Which is technically true, but she doesn't believe me."
"Are you safe?"
"Physically? Yes. They're not going to hurt me." But his voice says something else is hurting. "But Vespera, this weekend made something clear. They're watching me now. Really watching. And if they find out about you, about the claiming..."
"They'll do what they did to Julian," I finish.
"Worse. Because I'm their only heir now. Their last chance to preserve the family legacy." His voice cracks slightly. "I can't loseyou. But I also can't lose everything I've ever known. And I don't know how to choose."
The words hang there. Heavy. Impossible.
"You're not choosing right now," I say carefully, even though it hurts. "You're surviving this weekend."
"It doesn't feel like survival. It feels like cowardice."
"It's not cowardice to be scared."
"Isn't it?" He's quiet for a stretch. "My father wants me to come back for Thanksgiving. Bring 'someone appropriate' to meet the family. Make it clear I'm taking my future seriously."
"Thanksgiving is weeks away."
"I know. But he's laying groundwork. Making it clear what's expected." Dorian sounds defeated. "And I don't know how to tell him I can't meet those expectations anymore."
