I'm in the middle of rutting against her stolen panties—again, because apparently I have no fucking dignity left—when my phone rings.
Mother.
Of course it's Mother. Calling at the exact worst possible moment because the universe hates me.
I consider ignoring it. Consider throwing the phone against the wall to join the shattered mirror. But three missed calls from Eleanor Ashworth means she'll just show up in person, and the last thing I can handle is her seeing the disaster I've become.
I answer, my voice still rough from exertion. "Mother."
"Dorian." Her tone is ice wrapped in silk. "You've been avoiding my calls."
"I've been busy."
"Too busy for family? How disappointing." A pause, calculated for maximum impact. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, given recent events."
My hand tightens on the phone. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't insult my intelligence, darling." The endearment drips with condescension. "The entire campus knows about your... incident with the scholarship Omega. Josephine Hartley was only too happy to provide details at the club last week."
Fuck. Of course she knows. The old money network operates on gossip and judgment.
"It's handled," I lie.
"Is it?" Her laugh is brittle. "Because from what I hear, the girl rejected you and fled. Left three Alpha claims and walked away like you meant nothing. That doesn't sound handled, Dorian. That sounds humiliating."
Every word is a knife, precisely placed. "I said it's handled."
"Your father and I are concerned." Translation: disappointed. "We had hoped you learned from your brother's mistakes. That you understood the importance of appropriate choices."
Julian.Of course she brings up Julian. The specter of my disowned brother haunts every conversation, every decision.
"Vespera is nothing like Julian's situation—"
"Isn't she?" Mother cuts in sharply. "A scholarship student. No connections. No breeding. Nothing but a pretty face and the designation to make you stupid. Julian at least had the excuse of being young and idealistic. You're supposed to know better."
"Julian chose an Omega Father didn't approve of." My jaw clenches. "I claimed my fated mate."
"Fated." She says it like a curse. "That biological nonsense has ruined more good families than scandal ever could. Biology doesn't care about legacy, Dorian. It doesn't care about maintaining our position. It just makes youweak."
The word lands like a slap. Weak. What she called Julian before they erased him from family portraits. Before they forbade his name at dinner. Before they made it clear that love was failure.
"I'm not weak," I force out.
"Then prove it. End this embarrassment before it becomes something worse." Her voice softens, which is somehow more terrifying. "You're our heir now. Since Julian chose... poorly. Everything we've built falls to you. Don't throw that away for some little Omega who doesn't even want you."
The words hit too close to the wound. Vespera doesn't want me. She rejected me. Left me dying slowly in a bedroom that smells like desperation and madness.
"Where are you right now?" Mother asks suddenly. "Not at home. I called the house."
"Pack house." The words come automatically.
"All summer? Dorian, that's..." A pause. "Concerning. Your father and I will be in Europe until September. The Connecticut house is empty if you want space. Or better yet, come to Prague. Distance might give you perspective."
"I'm fine here."
"Are you?" Her skepticism is palpable. "Josephine mentioned you looked unwell at the spring gala. Have you been eating? Sleeping?"
None of your business, I want to snap. But that would confirm her suspicions.
