Chapter Three

The Darkmouth estate rose beyond a line of black pines, all pale stone and tall windows. The beauty of it made my breath catch. I stepped from the car with my small case in hand.

“Welcome home, Miss Thorne,” the driver said.

Home.

The word caught somewhere in my chest. Then a housekeeper was assigned to me and led me up a sweeping marble staircase, past polished floors and portraits of stern-looking wolves, to a spacious bedroom on the upper floor.

I stood at the doorway, my fingers tightening around the handle of my suitcase.

The bedroom was enormous. A queen-sized bed occupied the center of the room, its cream-colored sheets neatly arranged beneath a canopy of sheer curtains. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a beautifully maintained garden, while a small sitting area stood beside the fireplace. There was even a private balcony with a view of the surrounding estate.

I had never slept in a room this big in my entire life.

Hell, my previous bedroom could probably fit inside this one twice.

My gaze wandered toward another door. Curious, I pushed it open and discovered a walk-in closet.

I froze.

Rows of clothes hung neatly along the walls. There were shoes arranged on illuminated shelves, handbags displayed behind glass panels, and drawers filled with accessories. Everything was organized by color and type, as if someone had spent hours making sure nothing was out of place.

A maid standing nearby bowed her head.

“Madam, if there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to call me. Your toiletries, towels, and other necessities have already been arranged.”

I turned toward her.

“Thank you.”

She smiled politely before leaving me alone.

For a while, I simply stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with myself.

Everything I needed was here. I hadn’t even asked for any of it.

It was strange.

My biological family had never been this thoughtful. Even when I needed something as basic, I had to explain myself repeatedly, and sometimes I still received nothing. Yet these people, who had known me for barely any time at all, had prepared an entire room for me.

I wasn’t foolish enough to mistake this for love, though.

A beautiful cage was still a cage if the people inside intended to control you. And I had learned the hard way that kindness could sometimes come with a price.

After freshening up, I changed into a simple dress and asked one of the maids where my in-laws were.

“They’re in the relaxation area, Madam. Would you like me to escort you?”

“No, thank you. Just tell me how to get there.”

She gave me the directions, and I made my way downstairs.

My mother-in-law was seated on a sofa, sipping tea with elegance. While my father-in-law, a burly man with sharp-looking eyes was reading something on his tablet. They were both former rulers of the Ironcrest pack. Their auras intimidating.

They both looked up when I entered.

I immediately gave a graceful bow. “Good afternoon, Mother. Father.”

My mother-in-law, Luna Grace, placed her teacup on its saucer and gave me a measured nod. “Good afternoon, dear. Have you settled into your room?”

“Yes, Mother. Thank you for arranging everything.”

“Good. Breakfast is served at seven, lunch at noon, and dinner at seven in the evening.” Her posture was rigid, her expression perfectly neutral. “We expect punctuality.”

*I hope she likes the roast duck, * her voice suddenly echoed in my mind. *Maybe I should have had the kitchen prepare a lighter fish as well? What if she feels out of place? She looks so thin, poor thing.*

I blinked, taken back.

Was I imagining things?

I looked at my mother-in-law again. Her face was perfectly blank, almost stern.

I swallowed my confusion. It was strange to be somewhere people worried about my comfort. “Thank you, Mother. I’ll keep that in mind.”

She nodded once, apparently satisfied with my answer.

My father-in-law set his tablet aside. “You’re parent told me you were studying. What did you study at university?”

I hesitated before answering.

“I was studying business administration, Father. I haven’t completed my degree yet.”

“Why not?”

The question was straightforward, but it touched a sore spot I had spent years trying to ignore.

“My circumstances changed,” I replied carefully. “I couldn’t continue at the time.”

I didn’t want to tell him that my family had never considered my education important enough to sacrifice anything for. There had always been money for other people’s needs, other people’s dreams, and other people’s futures.

Mine had always been something I was expected to figure out by myself.

My father-in-law studied my face for a moment.

*It’s a shame what the Thornes did, * he thought, his mental voice heavy with disapproval. *Rowan’s always was a tight-fisted fool. If his duaghter wants to study further I’ll make sure she has the best tutors in the country. She shouldn’t have to give up her plans because she’s married.*

The unexpected kindness, hidden behind their formal masks, made my throat tight.

I quickly lowered my gaze, pretending to adjust the bracelet on my wrist.

For some inexplicable reason, those thoughts hurt more than I expected.

Not because they were cruel.

Because they weren’t.

For years, I had convinced myself that asking for support was an unreasonable demand. I had learned to swallow my disappointment whenever my family dismissed my ambitions, and eventually, I stopped telling them about the things I wanted.

It was easier to expect nothing than to keep hoping someone would care.

Now, sitting in front of two people who were already considering how to make my life easier, I felt an unfamiliar ache in my chest.

I wanted to believe them.

Goddess, how badly I wanted to believe them. But hope was dangerous when you had been disappointed too many times. I wasn’t ready to place all my trust in this family. I had trusted too easily in my last life, and it had cost me everything.

The Darkmouth left me to unpack. I arranged my few belongings in the closet, leaving most of the new clothes untouched. I wasn’t ready to wear things chosen for me by a family I barely knew.

By the time I finished, the bedroom door opened. Darian Darkmouth walked in, and the air changed completely.

A strange warmth stirred beneath my ribs, like a thread being pulled taut between us. My wolf lifted her head inside me, alert and suddenly restless.

*Mate,* she whispered.

I froze.

Darian’s gaze met mine. His expression remained composed, but something in his eyes sharpened—as if he’d felt the same pull.

He was exactly as I remembered from the society papers: incredibly tall, possibly at 9ft, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a dark coat. His eyes were the color of a stormy sky, unreadable and distant. When he looked at me, I braced myself, waiting to hear the cold calculations or hidden resentment that usually accompanied such arranged marriages.

Silence. Absolute silence.

I frowned, concentrating harder. I could hear the maid sweeping the hallway outside, worrying about a broken vase. I could hear the stable hand down below, cursing a stubborn horse. But from Darian, there was nothing. My ability to hear thoughts seemed to hit a blank wall whenever I looked at him.

Then, a low, rumbling purr vibrated at the back of my skull.

*Mine,* a deep, gravelly voice growled. It wasn’t Darian’s. It was richer, wilder, layered with the scent of damp earth and moonlight. *Our mate is finally here, Darian. She smells like rain. Why is she so thin? I want to kill the ones who hurt her!*

I blinked, my eyes darting to Darian. He hadn’t moved. His face was a mask of polite indifference.

Then it hit me; it was his inner wolf!

“The room is to your liking?” he asked, his human voice deep and steady.

“It’s lovely,” I replied, my heart hammering against my ribs.

*She’s perfect, * the wolf inside him purred, the sound echoing clearly in my mind. *Look at her eyes. Like the forest. Tell her she can have whatever she wants. Tell her we will protect for her.*

Darian simply adjusted his cuffs, his expression never shifting. “Good. My father mentioned your education. If you’d like to continue, you’re free to do so. If you’d rather work, that’s your choice as well.”

I couldn't answer. I couldn't speak. The thought of of me hearing his inner wolf was deeply terrifying and fascinating.

Darian’s noticed. His expression didn’t change. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” I replied, forcing a smile. “I’m just tired.”

He simply hummed and turned to leave, his human side as cold and distant as the rumors suggested. But as he reached the door, his wolf’s voice drifted back to me, warm and fiercely protective.

*Don’t worry, little mate. We will keep you safe. And we will tear apart anyone who tries to hurt you again.*

My cheeks flushed and mercifully my phone buzzed on the bedside table creating a distraction for me. Evelyn had posted in the family group chat;

The photo showed a a photo of a cheap, tarnished silver locket.

Evelyn: “Julian surprised me with these. It’s not the size of the house that matters. Being cherished matters more than living in a grand mansion.

A second message arrived privately.

Evelyn: So, how’s life with your rich husband? Is he already ignoring you? You can tell me the truth sister. Don’t worry, once Julian’ business takes off, maybe we can invite you over for dinner so you can see what a real marriage looks like.”

I stared at the screen, then at the lavish room around me—the fire, the flowers, the closet arranged for my arrival.

Evelyn had chosen her story. I had no reason to correct her.

Me: I’ve only just arrived. I’m tired. Good night.

I set the phone aside.

A few minutes later, Darian returned. His gaze fell to my hands, then to the frayed, worn cuffs of my old sweater—the only warm thing I had managed to pack from the Thorne estate.

“You’re cold,” he observed.

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

“You’re not,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned toward the door, pausing briefly to look back at me. “If you’re willing, I can take you shopping tomorrow.”

The offer was simple, without insistence or pity.

For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. I’d spent years making do with what I had, telling myself I needed nothing more.

“I’d like that,” I said at last.

Darian nodded. “Then we’ll go tomorrow.”

After he left, I touched the frayed cuff between my fingers.

This time, I would accept what I chose to accept—and refuse what I didn’t. My future would not belong to a husband, a sister, or a family that had never believed in me.

It would belong to me.