Chapter six

SYLVIA POV

The air in the dining room was suddenly tensed.

Only moments earlier, my family’s voices had filled the dining room. But now it was filled with a heavy silence that made even the maids retreat into the shadows, their heads bowed. I could feel their nerves in the room like the prickle of an approaching storm.

“Darian,” my mother stammered, her face arranging itself into a frantic, welcoming smile that didn't reach her eyes. “We didn’t expect you. Please, sit. I’ll have the cook bring another—“

“I’m not hungry,” Darian said coldly. He didn’t look at her. He walked straight to me, his gaze fixed on my face, searching for any sign of tears. When he found none, some of the tension left his shoulders, though I could still feel his wolf inside him, coiled tight and ready to strike.

*They hurt her, * his wolf’s voice rumbled in the back of my mind, dark and protective. *I can smell it on her skin. They made her sad. Let me break their pretty things, Darian. Let me show them what happens when they touch what is ours.*

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Darian said, his voice dropping into a gentler whisper. He could barely restrain himself. “The meeting was unavoidable. But I'm here now.”

“It’s fine,” I said, though my heart was hammering against my ribs.

“It’s not fine,” he replied seriously.

The quiet certainty in his voice unsettled me more than anger would have. He turned toward my father, and the warmth vanished from his expression.

“I heard what was said as I came up the hall,” his eyes narrowed darkly. “About the shipping taxes. About my wife’s ‘standing’ in my house.”

My father cleared his throat, his face turning a deep shaking red. This was the first time I had ever seen him frightened—not angry, not offended, not ready to lecture me. Frightened. He clearly hadn't expected the powerful Alpha to take sides with me.

“Alpha Darian, you have to understand. We were only—”

“The northern shipping lanes are closed to you,” Darian didn't let him finish, his voice like iron. “And they will remain closed.”

My father’s mouth stayed open, but no words came out.

Darian lifted my hand to his lips. His large, warm palm enclosed mine, and he pressed a kiss to my knuckles without taking his eyes from my father.

“As for my wife…” His thumb brushed gently over my fingers. “Sylvia is the only person in this world whose opinion I consult before I make a move. If she tells me to ruin a man, I ruin him. If she tells me to build an empire, I build it. Her standing is mine.”

The words settled over the room.

For a second, no one moved.

My father collapsed back into his chair, looking as if he had seen a ghost, the fight completely draining out of him. Beside him, my mother choked, her hand flying to her throat as if she couldn’t breathe. The color had drained from her face.

I should have felt triumph.

Instead, I felt strangely hollow. I had imagined my family seeing me—really seeing me—for years. I’d pictured the moment they understood that I was more than the daughter they could dismiss, more than a source of money they could claim whenever it suited them.

But Darian’s words had not changed how they saw me.

They had only made them afraid of what might happen if they continued to treat me that way.

It wasn’t the same as being loved. I knew that. I was trying not to mistake protection for affection, or a powerful husband’s defense for the approval I’d once wanted from my parents.

Still, his hand around mine was warm.

And he had come.

Darian’s attention shifted to Evelyn.

My sister had shrunk back in her chair. Her chin was still raised, but her hands had curled tightly into her lap. The confidence she’d worn when she mocked me had disappeared under his intimidating stare.

“And if I ever hear that she has been insulted under this roof again,” Darian added, his voice dropping dangerously low, “I will make sure this family remembers exactly what it means to have nothing.”

Evelyn stood up, a trembling, fake smile plastered on her face. “Alpha Darian, really, you misunderstood. Sylvia is only being childish and we were discipling her—“

Darian had already turned away, as if a fly were buzzing near his ear. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“Did you hear anything, Sylvia?” he asked, his tone entirely casual.

For a heartbeat, I didn’t understand.

Then I saw the deliberate tenderness in his expression, the casual way he touched my hair while Evelyn stood beside us, exposed and humiliated.

I knew what he was doing. He was giving me a way to refuse Evelyn’s apology without arguing with her, without letting her turn this into another performance in which she was the victim and I was the difficult one.

I let my shoulders relax. “No,” I said. “I didn’t hear anything important.”

Darian’s mouth curved slightly. “Good.”

Evelyn’s face burned. I heard her thoughts, sharp and furious beneath the little smile she had failed to hold.

*This isn’t what’s supposed to happen. He’s not supposed to care about her. Darian was cold. He was distant. The shopping trip was an exception, and this—this can’t be real.*

Her gaze fixed on Darian’s fingers against my hair.

*Why is he touching Sylvia like that? Why does he look at her as if she’s the only person in the room? She’s supposed to be alone. She’s supposed to be the one nobody wants.*

I felt the old reflex to glance at my sister, to see if she was all right. It had been trained into me long before I knew to question it: Evelyn’s hurt mattered; mine could wait.

This time, I didn’t move toward her.

I let Darian’s hand fall away only when he chose to lower it. The simple act of defending me made my chest filled with warmth.

This man… So cold. So ruthless. Yet tender towards me.

It was unexpected!

Julian pushed back his chair. He stood and puffed out his chest, as if he could make himself taller by force of will. The effort only made him look ridiculous beside Darian, who towered over him without even trying.

“You shouldn’t speak to your wife’s family like that, Alpha Darian,” Julian said. “My wife, Evelyn meant well. They were all trying to help Sylvia. And really, as family, we should be supporting each other.”

His gaze flicked toward my parents, seeking their approval. I understood what he was doing. He wanted to look like the reasonable one—the good son-in-law trying to calm the room—while positioning himself against the man he thought might threaten his future.

He even placed a hand on the back of Evelyn’s chair, as though that small gesture made him her protector.

“Her parents have welcomed me like a son,” he added. “They’ve been good to us. I don’t think you should threaten them over a misunderstanding.”

A misunderstanding.

The phrase stung more than I expected. It took my words and my family’s thoughts and pressed them flat, as if they were nothing but hurt feelings. As if my parents hadn’t just planned to use me to get money from Darian’s family. As if Evelyn hadn’t mocked my marriage and implied I’d already been abandoned.

Darian’s hand slid around my waist.

He drew me gently to his side and turned to face Julian. The corner of his mouth lifted—not quite a smile, more like the promise of one.

“I'm not sorry—Who the hell are you?” he asked.

Julian stiffened like he hadn't expected Darian to talk to him. “I’m Julian Vance. Evelyn’s husband.”

“A husband,” Darian repeated, as if weighing the word and finding it unimpressive. “Not an alpha.”

Julian’s shoulders tensed. “I have a pack.”

“A small one.” Darian’s gaze moved over him, cool and unhurried. “You’re standing in my presence and pretending you have the authority to lecture me. You should be grateful I’m allowing you to finish your sentence. You're nothing but a boy playing at being an Alpha and you doesn’t deserve to stand beside me, let alone speak to me. Know your place.”

A ripple of unease moved through the room. Julian’s jaw flexed. He tried to hold Darian’s gaze, but I could see the strain in him—the tautness around his mouth, the slight tremor in one hand.

Darian was taller, broader, and utterly still. Julian looked like a boy standing before a storm.

“You don’t get to defend these people by pretending my wife was treated well,” Darian said. “You don’t get to call cruelty a misunderstanding just because it’s convenient for you.”

“I’m not—”

“Then stop speaking for her.”

Julian’s face reddened. He shifted his feet, trying to hold his ground under Darian’s stare. For a second, pride kept his head up. Then his eyes dropped, and his chin followed.

He bowed his head under the pressure.

I watched him shrink beneath that gaze and felt nothing.

Once, Julian had been the center of my world. I had poured my intelligence into his success and mistook his ambition for a future we were building together. I had believed that every hour I spent drafting, every risk I calculated, every opportunity I found brought us closer.

I had thought we were partners.

Now I looked at him and saw only a man who had accepted everything I gave him, then used his strength against me when I was no longer useful.

The memory of my first life flashed through me—not a full scene, just the sensation of his fists slamming into face, door slamming shut, of trying to steady myself against a wall, of fear turning my limbs heavy. I swallowed it down. I was here. I was alive. I was no longer trapped with him.

Darian’s arm stayed firm around my waist.

The front door opened.

Darian’s assistant entered with rows of servbsts, carrying an array of expensive gifts and rare wines, the items growing more extravagant by the second, culminating a folded leather. They stopped just inside the room, waiting for Darian’s instructions.

“Alpha,” his assistant said with a respectful nod. “The items you asked me to bring.”

My father’s attention snapped to the boxes. The fear in his face faltered, replaced by a hungry spark. Mother straightened in her chair. Evelyn’s eyes widened. Even Julian looked toward the leather folder.

The gifts were expensive, unmistakably so. The wines bore labels my father would recognize. The folder looked official—papers inside, perhaps, bearing the seal of a land transfer or a business agreement.

The assistant set them down carefully.

“There’s also the land contract you mentioned,” he said. “The parcel near the eastern trade road, with access to the northern route.”

A murmur went through the room.

I watched my father’s expression transform. Just moments ago, he had looked ready to collapse. Now greed was pulling him upright again.

“The land?” he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse. “You intended to give it to us?”

Darian did not look away from him. “I intended to.”

My mother’s hand dropped from her throat. “Alpha Darian, this is generous. We’re very grateful.”

Evelyn stared at the gifts, her earlier humiliation momentarily forgotten. She was already calculating. I could see it in the way her eyes moved from the wine to the papers.

*That land could make Julian’s business. If Darian was willing to give it to Sylvia’s family, maybe he’ll still—*

“No,” Darian said.

The single word cut through the room.

He turned to his assistant. “Take them back.”

My father lurched to his feet. “Wait. You can’t mean—”

“I can.” Darian’s voice was flat. “These people aren’t fit for it.”

The assistant didn’t hesitate. He gathered the gifts and the folder, carefully lifting the contract as if it were no more than another piece of paper. The sight seemed to wake my father from his shock.

“Alpha Darian, please,” he said. “There’s no need to make a final decision over a family disagreement. We can talk this through.”

My mother joined him, taking a step forward. “We didn’t know how much this had upset Sylvia. We only wanted what was best for everyone.”

Evelyn quickly came to her feet, her smile trembling. “Alpha Darian, I think you misunderstood me. I admire Sylvia. I’ve always wanted her to be happy.”

I listened to their thoughts, and their words became almost unbearable.

*Don’t take it away. We can smooth this over. If he gives us that land, Julian can finally grow his business*

*Keep him calm. Apologize. Get him to reconsider.*

They weren’t afraid for me. They were afraid of losing what they had imagined he would give them.

Darian waited until the assistant had gathered everything. Then he turned away me from them as we walked away.

Behind us, my mother was speaking too quickly, her voice growing higher with each plea. My father called after Darian, promising that he would make things right. Evelyn said my name, trying to sound wounded and affectionate at once.

I didn’t turn around.

Then I heard a sharp slap.

The sound cracked through the house.

I stopped at the threshold.

My father had struck Evelyn across the face. Her head had turned with the force of it, and one hand flew to her cheek. My father was shouting at her, his face twisted with fury.

“You ruined everything!” he yelled. “You couldn’t keep your mouth shut for one evening! You kept attacking your sister!”

Evelyn stood frozen, one hand against her cheek tearfully. Her humiliation had hardened into rage. When she looked toward me, I heard the fury inside her like a blade scraping stone.

*This is just the beginning Sylvia. In this life, you will pay for what you did to me.*

For a moment, our eyes met.