Chapter 39 Dorian #2
Corvus moves ahead to open my door. Oakley follows close behind, already pulling off his jacket. The three of us moving in sync, pack instincts overriding everything else.
"This is a mistake," Vespera breathes as I carry her into my room. "You don't want this. You made that clear."
I set her down on the edge of my bed, forcing myself to release her even though every instinct screams to hold on. Drop to my knees in front of her so we're eye to eye.
This is it. This is where I either lose her forever or prove I'm not the coward I've been for three days.
"You're right." The words come out raw. "About everything. I avoided you. I shut you out. I made you feel like you didn't matter when you're the only thing that's ever mattered."
"Pretty words," she says bitterly. "You're good at those."
"No." I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "Not pretty words. Truth. The ugly, terrifying truth I've been running from."
She stares at me, fever-bright eyes searching my face.
"I went to see my parents," I continue, the words coming faster now, desperate.
"And they're suspicious. About us. They saw us together on campus, smelled your scent on me.
They don't know about the bonds yet, but they're asking questions.
And they compared me to Julian. Asked if I'm planning to throw everything away for an 'inappropriate' Omega. "
"And you decided I was," she whispers.
"No." The word is fierce. "I decided they were right to be scared. Because I am throwing everything away. The Ashworth name. The inheritance. The legacy they've spent generations building. All of it. Because none of it matters without you."
"You don't mean that—"
"I do." I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in despite the way it makes my rut surge.
"I spent three days hiding in that room, drinking my father's scotch and trying to convince myself I could find a way to have both.
To keep their approval and keep you. And I finally realized—I don't want both.
I don't want their approval if it means losing you. "
"Dorian—"
"I'm in love with you." The words burst out, raw and desperate.
"I'm so fucking in love with you it's destroying me.
I have been since the moment you looked at me in that interrogation room and refused to break.
And I'm terrified of it. Of how much I need you.
Of how completely you've dismantled every plan I had for my life. But I'm more terrified of losing you."
Tears spill over. "You can't just say you love me for the first time while I'm going into heat."
"Why not?" A desperate laugh escapes me.
"I've fucked up everything else. Might as well add terrible timing to the list." I tighten my grip on her face, needing her to hear this, to understand.
"But Vespera—I mean it. Every word. My parents can disown me.
The Ashworth fortune can go to some distant cousin.
The family name can die with my generation.
None of it—none of it—is worth losing you. "
"Your inheritance—"
"Fuck the inheritance." The vehemence in my voice surprises even me.
"Do you know what I realized while I was sitting in that room?
That every dollar of Ashworth money is tainted with my family's cruelty.
With the way they erased Julian. With the conditions they put on love.
I don't want it. I don't want any of it if it means becoming them. "
"You're not thinking clearly—"
"I'm thinking clearly for the first time in three days.
" I pull back enough to meet her eyes fully.
"My parents gave me an ultimatum they don't even know they gave.
Choose their approval or choose you. And I choose you.
Not because the bonds force me to. Not because you're in heat and my rut is compromising my judgment.
I choose you because you're the only thing in my life that's real. "
"What about your future?" Her voice is small. "Your plans?"
"My plans were their plans." The realization settles over me with startling clarity. "Every goal I thought I had—running the family business, maintaining the Ashworth legacy, being the perfect heir—none of it was what I wanted. It was what they programmed me to want. What they told me mattered."
"And what do you want?"
"You." The word is absolute. "I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to watch you become the most celebrated actor of our generation. I want to build a life that's ours, not theirs. I want pack. Real pack. Not the dynasty bullshit my parents tried to force on me."
Another wave hits her hard enough to make her double over. The whimper that escapes is pure pain.
The sound breaks something in me.
"Please." The word comes out broken. Begging. "Please let me help you through this. Not because I'm trying to manipulate you. Not because the bonds demand it. But because watching you hurt is killing me and I can't—I can't do it anymore."
"You hurt me," she gasps out. "For three days. You looked through me like I didn't exist."
"I know." The shame is crushing. "And I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it if you'll let me.
I'll grovel. I'll beg. I'll get on my knees right now and apologize for every moment of those three days.
" I'm already shifting, actually dropping lower, pressing my forehead to her knees in a position of complete submission.
"I'm sorry. God, Vespera, I'm so fucking sorry.
You got Hedda—you got the role of a lifetime—and I wasn't there.
I didn't celebrate with you. I didn't tell you how proud I am.
I didn't do anything except hide like a coward. "
"Dorian—"
"I don't deserve you." The words pour out, desperate.
"I know I don't. I've done nothing but hurt you since the day we met.
I kidnapped you. I tormented you. I claimed you against your will.
And then when you finally started to trust me, I abandoned you the moment things got hard.
You should throw me out. You should tell me to fuck off and never come back. "
"Stop."
"But I'm begging you not to." I look up at her, and I don't care that there are tears on my face.
Don't care that Corvus and Oakley are watching this complete breakdown.
"I'm begging you to give me one more chance.
To let me prove that I'm done being who they wanted me to be.
That I'm ready to be who you need me to be. "
"And who's that?"
"Yours." The word is raw. "Just yours. Not the Ashworth heir. Not the perfect Alpha. Not the dynasty builder. Just a man who's so fucking in love with you he can't breathe when you're hurting."
She's crying now, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. "You really mean it? About your family?"
"I called my mother this morning." The admission comes out quiet.
"Before the liquid courage. Told her I wasn't coming back for Thanksgiving.
That I wouldn't be bringing anyone 'appropriate' to meet them.
That if she wanted to keep asking questions about my choices, she'd get answers she wouldn't like. "
Her eyes widen. "What did she say?"
"That I was making a mistake. That I'd regret choosing biology over legacy.
That Julian was a cautionary tale, not a role model.
" I reach up, wipe her tears with shaking hands.
"And I told her that Julian was the bravest person in our family.
That he chose love over money and I was proud to follow his example. Then I hung up."
"Dorian."
"I'm done with them." The certainty in my voice is absolute. "Done pretending their approval matters. Done letting their threats control my choices. They can cut me off. They can disown me. They can erase me the way they erased Julian. It won't change how I feel about you."
"What if you regret it?" Her voice breaks. "What if ten years from now you resent me for costing you everything?"
"You didn't cost me anything." I cup her face again, needing her to see the truth in my eyes.
"You freed me. From expectations I never wanted to meet.
From a future that would have made me miserable.
From becoming my father." I press my forehead to hers again.
"You saved me, Vespera. Even when I was too stupid and scared to see it. "
"I'm still so angry with you."
"I know."
"And I don't know if I can forgive you."
"I know." My voice cracks. "And that's your right.
To stay angry. To not forgive. To decide I'm not worth the risk.
But please—" The desperation bleeds through.
"Please let me help you through this heat.
Let me take care of you. And when it's over, when you can think clearly again—you can decide if you want me to stay or go. "
"That's not fair." Her voice is getting breathier, the heat pulling at her. "Using biology to—"
"Nothing about this is fair," I agree. "But I'm here. I'm not leaving. I'm not hiding. And I'm going to spend the next three days proving that I mean every word I just said."
"Even if my body's choice isn't my real choice?"
"Your body knows what it needs." I press a kiss to her forehead, gentle despite the rut roaring in my veins. "And right now it needs comfort. Safety. Pack. Let me give you that. Let us give you that. And when the heat's over—when the biology isn't influencing anything—we'll figure out the rest."
She's quiet for a long stretch, studying my face. The heat is building—I see it in her dilated pupils, smell it in the thickening jasmine—but she's fighting to stay present for this conversation.
"Promise me something," she says finally.
"Anything."
"Promise you won't regret this. Choosing me over them."
"I promise." And I mean it with everything I am. "The only thing I'd regret is letting you go."
"Okay," she whispers. "Okay."
The relief is crushing.
I pull her against me, letting her burrow into my scent. She's shaking hard now, fever spiking, and I can feel slick starting to soak through her clothes.
"Oakley." My voice is Alpha command. "Call De Scarzis. Tell him she won't be at rehearsal for the next three days. Medical emergency."
"Already drafting the email," Corvus says, phone in hand. "What else?"
"Food. Water. Everything she'll need." I'm pulling off my shirt as I speak, the one I've been wearing for the past two days. The one saturated with my scent. "And get whatever nest materials we bought last time. The good stuff."
"On it." Oakley is already moving.
"How much time do we have?" Corvus asks quietly.
"Hour. Maybe less." I'm tracking every change in her scent, every shift in her breathing. "She's going to drop hard when the full heat hits."
"Then we work fast." Oakley returns with arms full of fabric—cashmere, silk, merino wool. The expensive materials we bought last time, still pristine in their packaging. "Let's build her something worthy of a queen."
Despite everything, Vespera huffs a weak laugh against my chest. "That's so cheesy."
"But accurate," I murmur into her hair. "You're pack royalty. About time we treated you like it."
She pulls back enough to look at me, eyes fever-bright and questioning.
"I love you too," she whispers. "Even though you're an idiot.
Even though I'm still angry. Even though you made me feel like shit for three days.
" Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. "But if you ever shut me out like that again—"
"I won't." I turn to press a kiss to her palm. "Never again. You have my word. My oath. My everything."
"Good." Another wave makes her shudder. "Now less talking, more nest building. Because this is getting really uncomfortable."
"On it," Oakley says, already laying out cashmere across the bed. "Dorian, Corvus—we're doing this right. No half-assing it this time."
And for the next hour, as the pre-heat builds and her scent drives us slowly insane with need, we build her the nest she deserves.
Not because we're trying to manipulate her.
Not because we're forcing anything.
But because she's ours, and we're hers, and I finally—finally—stopped being a coward long enough to prove it.