"I'm giving you clarity." His hand tightens slightly. "End the claiming. There are medical procedures—difficult, dangerous, but possible. We can facilitate it. You'll be in pain for a while, but you'll recover. You'll be free."
"I don't want to be free from her."
"Because the bonds won't let you want that. That's the point." He releases my shoulder, steps back. "But if you choose her—if you choose this inappropriate attachment over your family—then you'll experience the same consequences Julian did. Complete disinheritance. Removal from all family accounts. No access to the trust fund. Your pack house will be repossessed.Everything that carries the Ashworth name will be stripped away."
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Probably Vespera, feeling my distress through the bonds. I resist the urge to check it.
"When?" I ask. "When do I have to decide?"
"Thanksgiving." Father returns to his desk, picks up a leather-bound planner. "Your mother and I will be hosting the traditional family gathering. We expect you to bring a suitable Omega. Someone appropriate. Someone who can meet the family and demonstrate that you understand your responsibilities."
"And if I don't?"
"Then we'll know you've made your choice." He closes the planner. "And we'll proceed accordingly."
The deadline hangs there. Six weeks. Six weeks to choose between everything I've ever known and the Omega who's become my entire world.
"I need to think," I say, standing on legs that don't feel entirely stable.
"Of course." Father's voice is almost kind now. Sympathetic. "Take your time. Consider carefully." He picks up his phone. "I'll have Henderson prepare your old room. You should stay the night. Leave fresh in the morning."
"I need to get back to campus—"
"One night won't hurt." It's not a request. "Your mother wants to have breakfast with you. She's worried. Spend tonight here, leave after breakfast. You owe us that much."
I do owe them. Owe them for the life they've given me, the opportunities, the privilege. But I also owe Vespera. Owe her for what I did to her. Owe her the truth I'm only now beginning to understand.
"Okay," I say. "I'll stay."
"Good." Father smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. "We'll talk more in the morning. After you've had time to process."
I leave his study feeling like I've been eviscerated. Every word he said was calculated. Precise. Designed to make me doubt everything I feel.
And the worst part? It's working.
My phone buzzes again. Multiple texts now.
Corvus:Your shielding is failing. What's happening?
Oakley:Are you okay? The bonds are going crazy.
Vespera:Dorian?
I stare at her name, feeling the bonds pull so hard it's physically painful. She's worried. They're all worried. And I'm trapped in this house with my parents, being told that everything I feel is a lie created by biology.
I need to call her. Need to explain. But what do I say? That my father just spent an hour telling me our bond is a chemical dependency? That they're threatening to destroy me if I don't end it? That I'm terrified he might be right?
I dial her number before I can overthink it.
She answers on the first ring. "Dorian?"
"Hey." My voice sounds wrong even to my own ears. "Sorry for the radio silence. Things have been... intense."
And then I'm explaining—the Omega suitors, the interrogation, the suspicions. But I can't bring myself to tell her about the ultimatum. About Thanksgiving. About the choice I'm being forced to make.
I can't tell her that my father thinks our love is a lie.
Because if I say it out loud, I might start believing it too.
