Chapter Fifteen #2
Dohwan stops at the bottom of the sweeping stairs leading to massive double doors.
He extracts his arm from mine, and I watch, curious, as he deliberately rolls up both sleeves to expose the mate marks stark against his skin.
His eyes meet mine, heavy with meaning—we're doing this properly, no hiding.
My heart thuds against my ribs as he offers his arm again.
We climb the stairs together, my heels clicking against stone.
Two servants in traditional dress bow deeply as we approach, then pull open the heavy doors.
The entryway opens into a soaring foyer draped in deep crimson.
Portraits line the walls—generations of stern-faced Han matriarchs staring down at us as we follow a servant down a long hallway.
The clicking of my heels echoes off the high ceilings. Everything gleams with wealth —crystal chandeliers, gilt-edged mirrors, plush carpets in shades of ruby. This isn't just any noble family's home—this is old power, old money.
The servant stops before another set of ornate doors and announces in a clear voice, “Lord Han Dohwan and Lady Seo Gawon.”
Dohwan's grip tightens almost imperceptibly on my arm as he guides me into what appears to be a formal dining hall.
My breath catches at the grandeur—floor to ceiling windows flooding the space with light, a massive table that could seat thirty running down the center, more crimson and gold everywhere I look.
I've never felt more out of place in my life.
Three figures rise from the ornate table, and my eyes immediately lock onto the woman who cannot be mistaken for anyone but Dohwan's mother.
She's draped in flowing crimson silk that ripples like liquid fire with her every movement.
I see where Dohwan got his striking cheekbones and that long nose, though on her they're softened by feminine grace.
Her posture screams poise and good breeding.
Next to her stands a tall man with Dohwan's intense eyes.
His father carries himself with the same rigid pride I identify with his son.
As my gaze drops to his exposed forearms, I notice mate marks similar to the ones now inked into Dohwan's skin.
When our eyes meet, he offers a polite but carefully neutral bow.
The third person draws my attention—another young male, who must be Dohwan's older brother.
I study his features, searching for any family resemblance to Dohwan, but find none.
Where Dohwan is tall and lean, this male is shorter with a stockier build.
His face shares none of the sharp, elegant lines that mark Dohwan and his parents.
When he catches me looking, his lips curl into a smile that makes my skin crawl.
Dohwan goes rigid beside me. I glance up to see his jaw clenched tight, eyes blazing as they lock onto the other male.
Before I can process what's happening, Dohwan's mother glides forward, breaking the charged moment.
She embraces her son with practiced formality—more ceremony than affection.
Then she turns that assessing gaze on me, taking her time as she looks me up and down.
Her lips press into a thin line, but she manages to force them into something resembling a smile.
“Welcome,” she says, though her tone suggests I'm anything but. “Please, join us. We have much to discuss.”
She gestures toward the table with an elegant sweep of her arm, every movement calculated and precise.
Dohwan's hand settles at the small of my back as he guides me to my seat, the heat of his touch burning through my dress.
I glance up, startled by the intimate gesture, and catch his eyes glowing with that eerie light before he quickly blinks it away.
His movements are stiff but deliberate as he helps me into the chair across from his brother.
The moment Dohwan takes his seat beside me, his mother's voice cuts through the tension. “Allow me to properly introduce my husband, Lord Ji Hankyung, and our eldest son, Dojoon.”
I meet Dojoon's gaze, and my skin crawls at the way his eyes rove over me, lingering too long on my neckline. There's something predatory in his expression that has nothing to do with being fae. I don't like that male already.
Servants appear, setting down plates of elegantly arranged food. The aroma makes my mouth water, but I keep my hands folded in my lap, hyper-aware of every movement under Lady Han's scrutiny.
“Tell me, dear,” she says, her voice dripping false sweetness, “what do you know of your parents?”
I lift my chin. “Nothing. I was abandoned as an infant.”
Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arch. “Nothing at all? Surely you must have some idea of your lineage, being that you carry the Seo name. Are you perhaps related to the House Ruby Seo line?”
“No, probably not.” I take satisfaction in how her expression tightens when I add, “The name likely came from my human father.”
Lady Han's face goes slack with poorly concealed horror at the words 'human father.' I bite back a smile, enjoying her discomfort.
“And your education?” Lord Ji cuts in smoothly, his tone markedly gentler than his mate's. “Where did you study?”
“I attended Fae Academy until tenth grade.” I keep my voice steady despite the old anger bubbling up. “I had to leave due to harassment from full-blooded students.”
Lady Han makes a small choking sound, but her mate merely nods with what appears to be genuine sympathy. Dojoon's smirk widens, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement at my admission.
I watch the tension crackle between the brothers as Dojoon's lips curl into a nasty smile.
“Speaking of education troubles,” he drawls, swirling wine in his glass, “you and my dear brother must have that in common. He barely scraped by with his diploma.” His eyes gleam with malice as they slide to Dohwan. “Always struggling to make those marks.”
Dohwan reaches for his wine glass with deliberate calm. “If I recall correctly,” he says, voice measured and cool, “it was your teachers who needed extra encouragement from our parents' coffers to allow you to receive your diploma. Not me.”
The wine in Dojoon's glass sloshes as his hand tightens. His lips peel back, exposing elongated fangs in a snarl. “Careful, brother. Wouldn't want your new mate knowing about all your favorite conquests.” His eyes narrow. “Best we don't dive into that particular time period.”
“Dojoon,” Lady Han's sharp voice cuts through the tension. “Do not flash your fangs at the table.” Though her words chide him, her tone lacks any real reproach. She dabs at her lips with a napkin, seemingly content to let them posture.
I glance between the two males, trying to decode the undercurrent running beneath their exchange. There's more here than simple sibling rivalry—something darker and more visceral in the way they eye each other like predators circling prey.
Dohwan appears unruffled on the surface, but I notice his other hand clenched in a white-knuckled fist beneath the table. The rigid set of his shoulders betrays the strain of maintaining his composure. Whatever history lies between these brothers, it's clearly left deep scars.
I turn to Dojoon, trying to break the tense atmosphere. “What do you do for a living?”
Dojoon blinks at me like I've just asked him to explain quantum physics. His mouth opens and closes, brows furrowing in apparent confusion.
Beside me, Dohwan makes a sound that might be a snort, quickly masked by bringing his wine glass to his lips. I glance at him, curious about his reaction.
“Why would he need to do anything?” Lady Han interjects, her tone suggesting I've said something deeply offensive.
She straightens in her chair, looking down her elegant nose at me.
“Dojoon is highborn from a prominent family. He will either marry into or mate into another prominent family. He will never have need for any sort of…” Her lips curl. “Job.”
Dojoon's expression shifts from confused to smug. He leans back, crossing his arms as he fixes Dohwan with a nasty smile. “Too bad you no longer have that option, brother.”
A low growl rumbles in Dohwan's chest as he glares across the table. The temperature around us spikes several degrees.
“Now, now.” Lady Han waves her hand dismissively. “Dohwan does not need to worry about such things either. He is the Han family heir and will inherit our home and assets someday.”
I look around the ornate dining room, confusion making me forget my careful manners. “But why would Dohwan be the heir? Isn't Dojoon older?”
The room plunges into sudden silence. Silverware freezes halfway to mouths, wine glasses hover suspended in mid-air. I dart my eyes between their faces, wondering what I've said wrong.
Dojoon's face flushes an alarming shade of red. Next to me, Dohwan ducks his head, but not before I catch the smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Lady Han delicately sets down her wine glass, her crimson-painted lips pursing. “And where do you two plan to live?”
The question catches me off guard. I blink, my fork hovering over my barely-touched plate. “I hadn't considered it. I didn't know I had a choice.”
“Of course you have a choice.” Lady Han's voice carries a note of surprise, though her eyes remain calculating. “Now that you're mated to Dohwan, you have claim to the Han residence. You could choose to live here in Ruby Hall if you wish.”
My stomach does an odd flip at her words. The thought of living in this opulent mansion, surrounded by centuries of Han family history and wealth, makes my head spin. I glance sideways at Dohwan, trying to gauge his reaction.
His face is carefully blank as he stares at his plate, methodically cutting his meat into precise squares. But there's tension in the set of his shoulders, and he won't meet my eyes. He's waiting for my answer, I realize, though he's trying hard to appear indifferent.