The days inside the Thorne mansion had begun to settle into a cold, predictable rhythm.
Caleb had learned quickly that life here did not bend for anyone—least of all for an Omega who had entered the house through a political marriage.
Mornings were quiet. Too quiet.
Servants moved like ghosts through the enormous halls. Footsteps echoed against polished marble floors. Curtains were drawn just enough to allow pale light to spill across the dark interior, but never enough to make the place feel warm.
Caleb spent most mornings in the library.
It was the only place in the mansion that felt remotely alive.
Tall bookshelves stretched toward the ceiling, filled with volumes that smelled faintly of old paper and leather. A large window overlooked the estate gardens, and sometimes Caleb would sit there for hours pretending to read while his mind wandered.
He still wasn't sure what his role here was supposed to be.
Lucian Thorne had made it clear from the very first night that their marriage was an arrangement. A strategic alliance. Nothing more.
And Lucian treated it exactly that way.
They rarely spoke.
When they did, it was always brief. Practical. Detached.
"Dinner is at seven."
"There will be guests tomorrow."
"Stay in the east wing tonight."
That was the extent of most of their interactions.
Caleb had stopped expecting anything else.
Still, there were moments—small ones—when he felt the weight of Lucian's presence in the mansion. The Alpha's authority seemed to exist in every room even when he wasn't physically there.
Servants straightened when his footsteps approached.
Guards stood a little taller.
Even the air seemed to tense.
And Caleb—
Caleb simply stayed quiet.
That evening, the dining hall was unusually silent.
The long table stretched across the center of the room like something out of an old aristocratic painting. A chandelier hung above it, casting soft golden light across polished silverware and crystal glasses.
Lucian was already seated when Caleb arrived.
The Alpha wore a dark suit, his posture relaxed but controlled, as if he carried authority even while sitting still. One arm rested casually against the armrest of his chair while he scanned a document in his hand.
He didn't look up when Caleb entered.
Caleb quietly took his usual seat across the table.
A servant poured wine.
Another placed the first dish down.
Only when the servants stepped back did Lucian finally speak.
"Eat."
Caleb nodded slightly.
"Yes."
The meal continued in silence.
The clink of cutlery against porcelain echoed softly in the vast room.
Lucian occasionally flipped through the papers beside his plate while eating, his attention clearly divided between dinner and whatever work he had brought with him.
Caleb had grown used to it.
This was normal now.
Just another quiet dinner in a house that didn't feel like home.
Until—
The heavy doors of the dining hall suddenly opened.
Both men looked up.
A guard stepped inside.
"Alpha."
Lucian's gaze sharpened instantly.
"What is it?"
"There is a visitor requesting entry."
Lucian frowned slightly.
"At this hour?"
"Yes, Alpha."
The guard hesitated.
Then he said the name.
"Evan Arden."
The fork in Caleb's hand froze.
For a moment, the entire room seemed to stop breathing.
Lucian leaned back slowly in his chair.
"Evan Arden?" he repeated.
The guard nodded.
"He says he wishes to speak with you."
Caleb's heart began to beat faster.
Evan.
Here?
Why?
Lucian studied the guard for a moment before giving a short command.
"Let him in."
A few minutes later, the doors opened again.
Evan stepped inside.
He looked almost the same as Caleb remembered—tall, confident, with the same sharp eyes that always seemed to analyze everything around him.
But tonight there was something different about the way he carried himself.
Something calmer.
Controlled.
Almost... rehearsed.
"Alpha Thorne," Evan said, offering a respectful nod.
Lucian watched him carefully.
"I wasn't expecting you."
Evan gave a small, apologetic smile.
"I imagine not."
His eyes briefly shifted toward Caleb.
Just for a second.
Then they returned to Lucian.
"I owe you an apology."
Lucian raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Evan stepped further into the room.
"For running away from the alliance meeting," he said. "It was reckless. And disrespectful to both families."
Caleb stared at him in disbelief.
Evan was apologizing?
That had never been his style.
Lucian seemed equally intrigued.
"I see," the Alpha said slowly.
Evan continued.
"I've had time to think about it. The alliance between our families is important. More important than my personal frustrations."
He placed a hand over his chest in a formal gesture.
"So I came here to make things right."
Silence followed his words.
Lucian studied him for several long seconds.
Then—
Unexpectedly—
A faint smile appeared on the Alpha's face.
"Well," Lucian said smoothly, "that is a pleasant surprise."
Caleb felt something twist uncomfortably in his stomach.
Lucian gestured toward the table.
"Join us for dinner."
Evan didn't hesitate.
"I'd be honored."
A servant quickly brought another chair and plate.
Within moments, Evan was seated at the table.
Right beside Lucian.
Dinner resumed.
But the atmosphere had changed completely.
Lucian leaned slightly toward Evan as they spoke.
"So," Lucian said, pouring wine into Evan's glass himself, "what made you reconsider the alliance?"
Evan accepted the glass with a grateful nod.
"Perspective," he said.
Lucian chuckled softly.
"That sounds suspiciously mature."
Evan smiled.
"I do have my moments."
Caleb watched the exchange in quiet disbelief.
Lucian was… relaxed.
Almost friendly.
The Alpha asked Evan about the Arden estate. About their business operations. About political movements in the region.
Evan answered confidently, his tone respectful but natural.
The conversation flowed easily.
Too easily.
And Caleb—
Caleb barely existed within it.
At one point Lucian asked Evan a question about trade routes.
They discussed it for nearly ten minutes.
Neither of them once acknowledged Caleb sitting across the table.
He pushed food around his plate quietly.
Listening.
Watching.
Feeling more invisible by the minute.
Then—
Evan glanced up.
His eyes met Caleb's.
And for just a moment—
A small, satisfied smile appeared on his face.
It was subtle.
Barely noticeable.
But Caleb recognized it instantly.
Triumph.
Evan looked away again as if nothing had happened.
"Your estate is impressive," Evan said casually to Lucian. "Far larger than I expected."
Lucian smirked slightly.
"The Thorne family has never been modest about territory."
"I can see that."
Their conversation continued.
Politics.
Strategy.
Future cooperation.
Lucian seemed genuinely pleased by Evan's presence.
Caleb had never seen the Alpha speak this comfortably to anyone.
Eventually, Caleb placed his napkin down quietly.
"I'll excuse myself."
Lucian didn't even look up.
"Hmm."
That was the only response he gave.
Caleb stood slowly and walked toward the doors.
The guards opened them without a word.
He stepped out into the long corridor beyond the dining hall.
The doors closed behind him.
The hallway was dimly lit.
Only a few wall lamps illuminated the marble floor.
Caleb walked slowly toward the east wing.
His chest felt tight.
He wasn't sure why.
Maybe he shouldn't care.
Evan was his brother.
Of course he would want to repair relations with the Thorne family.
But something about the dinner had felt…
wrong.
Caleb reached the corner of the hallway.
Just as he turned—
The dining hall doors opened again behind him.
Voices drifted into the corridor.
Lucian's voice.
"…you've changed your mind quickly."
Evan chuckled softly.
"Like I said, perspective."
There was a brief pause.
Then Lucian spoke again.
His tone thoughtful.
"Well… if you intend to stay and repair relations between our families—"
Another pause.
Then Lucian said something that made Caleb stop walking.
"You can stay here for a while if you want."
Silence filled the corridor.
Caleb stood frozen.
Behind him, Evan's voice answered calmly.
"I appreciate the hospitality, Alpha."
Caleb slowly closed his eyes.
Because suddenly—
The Thorne mansion felt even colder than before.