"I'm managing."
"Hmm." The sound conveys deep doubt. "Well, the lake house is also available if you prefer isolation. Though I'd think after what happened last summer, none of you would want to return there."
The lake house. Corvus just mentioned it. Isolated, private, perfect for...
"It's just," Mother continues, "we can't afford another scandal, Dorian. Not after Julian. The board is already questioning your father's judgment, having lost his heir to sentiment. If you follow the same path..." She lets the threat hang.
"I won't."
"I hope not. Because unlike your brother, you understand what's at stake. You understand that feelings are temporary but family legacy is forever." Another pause. "End this situation, Dorian. Cleanly. Find an appropriate Omega froman appropriate family. Someone who understands their place. Someone who won't make you weak."
Someone who isn't Vespera.
"I have to go," I say abruptly.
"Dorian—"
"I said I have to go." I'm standing now, pacing the destroyed room. "Thank you for the call, Mother. Give Father my regards."
I hang up before she can respond, hurling the phone onto the bed.
The lake house. She handed it to me without even knowing. Isolated. No neighbors for miles. No one to hear if...
No.
I'm not thinking about that. I'm thinking about convincing her. Making her understand. Showing her that what we have is too powerful to reject.
But if she won't listen...
I look at the shrine again. At all the pieces of her I've collected like a madman. Not enough. Never enough.
Two weeks, I remind myself. Two weeks until I can replace these remnants with the real thing. Two weeks until she's back where she belongs—in my bed, under my body, taking my knot like she was designed to do.
My mother's words echo in my mind:We can't afford another scandal. Don't make Julian's mistakes. Don't be weak.
But this isn't a weakness. This is biology. Destiny. Fated mates don't reject each other. And if Vespera has to be reminded of that—if she has to be convinced, coerced, claimed so thoroughly she can't run again—then that's what I'll do.
I delete my mother's missed follow-up calls without listening to the voicemails. There's nothing she could say that matters. Nothing anyone could say that would change what has to happen.
Vespera is mine. Everything else is just noise.
And if I have to burn down my entire world to get her back?
Then I'll light the match myself.
three
Oakley
Threeinthemorning,and another crash echoes from Dorian's room.
Outside his door, I listen to the sounds of destruction within. Probably the remains of his bookshelf joining the pile of splinters that used to be furniture. Three weeks since Vespera's rejection, and he's systematically destroying everything he can reach.
Including himself.
"Dorian?" I keep my voice calm, forcing down the panic clawing at my chest. "I'm coming in."
"Fuck off, Oak."
