The car door opened with a soft click, a stark contrast to the roaring silence that had filled the ride here. Ariana stepped out onto cold, unfamiliar gravel, the massive stone structure of Blackthorn Manor looming before her under the fading twilight sky. It wasn't just big; it felt ancient, heavy, like it had swallowed the light. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. The air smelled different here – wilder, something primal beneath the scent of damp earth and old stone.
A woman stepped forward from the shadows near the imposing front door. She had a kind face, soft eyes, and wore a simple, practical dress. "Welcome, Luna Ariana," she said softly, her voice surprisingly gentle. "I'm Tara. I'll be assisting you."
Luna, which means Moon. Was that what they called the Alpha's wife? Ariana just nodded, clutching the shawl tighter around herself. "Thank you, Tara," she whispered, her voice shaky.
Another figure stood further back, near the edge of the porch. A man in dark clothes, blending almost perfectly with the shadows. He didn't move, didn't speak, just watched. Like a statue, but you felt his eyes on you.
"That's Samuel," Tara murmured, following Ariana's gaze. "He sees everything, but speaks little."
The heavy front door swung open then, not by Tara or Samuel, but from within. And there he was.
Darius Blackthorn.
He was even more imposing than she'd imagine, "He looks good"she murmured to herself,, a force of nature made flesh. Tall, broad, his golden eyes like molten gold in the dim light. He didn't look at her for long. Just a quick, piercing glance that seemed to strip her bare, analyze her, and then dismiss her. His face remained unreadable, hard as the stone of his house.
He didn't offer a hand, didn't say a word of welcome. He simply turned and stepped back into the house, a silent command to follow.
Ariana hesitated for a fraction of a second, then forced her feet forward. Tara gave her a small, reassuring nod, and Ariana followed the silent Alpha into the house.
The entrance hall was cavernous, filled with the scent of old wood and something musky she couldn't place perhaps old money. As she stepped fully inside, another man emerged from a side room. Older than Darius, silver streaks in his dark hair, dressed in a sharp suit. He looked at her not with curiosity, but with a calculating, almost predatory gaze.
"Ah, the substitute is here," the older man said, a cruel smile touching his lips. "Vincent Blackthorn, Darius's father."
Ariana flinched internally but kept her expression blank. "Mr. Blackthorn," she managed, dipping her head slightly.
Vincent circled her slowly, like he was inspecting livestock. "Frail," he observed, not to her, but to Darius. "But the bloodline is... adequate." He didn't seem to care about her health, only her lineage.
Just then, the front door opened again. Ariana's blood ran cold. Her father and stepmother stepped inside, looking far too comfortable, far too pleased with themselves.
"Charles, Lila," Vincent greeted them, his tone shifting to one of formal pleasantness, though the cruel glint remained in his eyes.
"Vincent," Mr. Cummings replied, extending a hand that Vincent took in a firm grip. "We came to... finalize things."
Lila glided past Ariana without a glance, her smile fixed and artificial. "Just ensuring all the paperwork is in order," she purred, addressing Vincent and Darius, ignoring the reason why she was here.
Ariana felt a surge of anger. They weren't here because they cared. They were here for business. Her marriage, her life, reduced to a transaction.
"Paperwork?" Ariana finally found her voice, sharp despite the tremor. "Is that what you call this? Selling me off Like a property?"
Mr. Cummings's face hardened. "Ariana, silence. The Adults are speaking."
"This alliance is crucial, Ariana," Vincent cut in smoothly, his voice patronizing. "Your... disposition allows for a necessary arrangement. Your father's company needs our protection from certain... supernatural rivals. This marriage solidifies the bond."
Supernatural rivals? Her company was in danger from werewolves? Was that why Elena was so afraid? Because she knew what they were?
"So it's really just business," Ariana said, her voice flat. "My life is just a contract signature."
"Precisely," Lila said, finally looking at her with open disdain. "Think of it as your final contribution to the family."
Darius, who had been silent and still this whole time, finally moved. He walked closer, his golden eyes finally meeting hers, briefly. There was nothing in them. No pity, no anger, no warmth. Just emptiness.
He turned to his father. "The arrangements are made," Darius said, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down Ariana's spine. "She is here now , which means the business is done."
He looked back at Ariana, his expression still unreadable. "Tara will show you to a room," he said, the words clipped and devoid of emotion.
Ariana's breath hitched. A room? Not their room? Not a shared space?
Darius turned fully to his father, his back to Ariana, deliberately excluding her. His voice dropped, barely a whisper, but in the tense silence of the hall, Ariana heard it clearly.
"I'll give her a room in this house, and this family but," Darius said to Vincent, his gaze fixed ahead. "Not a place in my life."