Page 34

The clink of silverware against porcelain is loud in the lofty room which seems to only be getting smaller every second.

Someone clears their throat.

A waiter walks in and the gurgles of wine pouring fills the tension.

Kain hasn’t touched a single piece of his food that was served minutes ago, while I’m pushing it around my plate.

“Well. This has been a long time coming.” Heath places his fork down on the table.

Dorrian and Kain’s gazes burn into me. One brimming with licentious tension, and the other something I can’t place. But it’s not surprising when it comes to Dorrian. I’m trying to gauge anything at all on his face—did he tell them? But there’s nothing. Just emptiness.

“Yes. We haven’t had a dinner like this since my last promotion,” Mother chips, a rare smile on her face.

So this is exactly what I thought it was going to be.

Heath’s eyes bounce between us all, waiting for someone to speak next, but no one does. He sits forward. “We’re thinking of expanding Blackcastle's border.”

A fork clangs against china and Dorrian whips his head to his father. “What?”

“Well, Blackcastle is a successful town. It wouldn’t hurt to expand it, bring in new members to the community—”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Dorrian interrupts.

“I’ve been promoted to Heath’s advisor. We both made this decision last week,” Mother chimes in confidently while Heath nods in agreement.

I almost choke on my water.

“And how exactly are you planning on expanding?”

Heath grins at Dorrian. “We found a building for sale in the outskirts of London, we can build new houses and set up a letting agency there. People in this town are devoted, we’ll find volunteers to bring new people in—”

“Brainwashed.” Kain scoffs, sitting back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

I stretch my foot out, nudging him in the knee and try not to melt at the first bit of contact since seeing him tonight.

“Our people are part of a community,” Heath seethes in his direction. “This town was built on Christianity, and it will continue to be built on people devoted to God. He and the devotee’s of His are the reason this town is thriving.” Heath’s face morphs into something of anger, clearly not impressed by his son's remark.

Kain rubs a hand down his face, abruptly leaning forward in his chair. “You’ve built a fucking cult in this town. This is anything but a community.”

“It’s religion.”

“Religion that allows you to beat your son?” Kain looks at Mother. “Control everything your daughter does?” He leans back again. “Sounds like a bullshit excuse to me.”

“That’s enough.” Dorrian’s hand slams down on the table with controlled anger. He glares at Kain, dark gaze sparkling in the candlelight.

Mother recoils, pressing a scandalised hand to her chest. “How dare you. Everything I do is for her benefit!”

“You really think the people will want this?” Dorrian cuts in. “Especially when you announce Vivian as your advisor? You’ve been governing this town on your own all these years”—he shakes his head—“how do you think everyone's going to react to you putting a stray off the streets in a position of power?”

“I beg your pardon?” Mother gasps.

Heath doesn’t jump to her defence, just continues. “The women need someone to trust. Our union will only show strength to them—”

“Union?” Dorrian’s eyebrows snap to the middle of his forehead.

I’m watching the situation unfold with pure confusion. This is something I’m used to. All my life I’ve been controlled, I just do as I’m told, too afraid to say anything in case in lands me in trouble. I’m supposed to trust these people, so that’s what I should do.

My brain is struggling to keep up with the conversation, the angry look on Kain’s face, and the scrape of Heath’s chair. He stalks over to an antique commode in the corner of the room and rips open a drawer, pulling out a red folder with the Blackcastle crest engraved in the middle. He tosses it into the centre of the table and Mother’s face slowly tilts down, a smile spreading across her lips.