Chapter 22

I twisted a lock of my hair between my fingers, searching for the right words to explain my situation. Doubts churned in my mind. Could I truly trust Hadrian? What would he do with the truth I was about to reveal? Every fantasy story I’d ever read about werewolves and vampires painted them as mortal enemies. From what I’d gathered, Hadrian, as a vampire, wasn’t particularly fond of werewolves either. And now, I had to tell him I was the daughter of two alphas, and my father was the leader of the pack.

"My story is... complicated," I began, a nervous laugh escaping me.

Hadrian didn’t waver. His piercing gaze locked onto mine as he replied, "I’m certain I’ll understand."

I swallowed hard and continued hesitantly, "Well, as you know, I’m human, but—"

A sudden knock at the door cut me off. Hadrian’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he clicked his tongue in irritation.

"Come in," he called sharply, his voice slicing through the tension in the room.

A servant hurried inside, bowing low before him, visibly trembling. "Master, there’s an urgent message from the council," he stammered.

Hadrian’s lips curled into a cold smile. "Is it truly urgent enough to interrupt my meal?" he hissed.

The servant gulped, bowing even lower. "It’s from Madame Penrose. She’s called for an immediate meeting."

Hadrian’s fist slammed against the table, his patience visibly fraying. "Fine. If my sister insists on my presence," he bit out, glaring at the servant.

I sat quietly, unsure how to respond to the storm brewing in front of me. Hadrian stormed toward the door at his end of the table, yanked it open, but paused to glance back at me.

His expression softened slightly as he said, "I’ll be gone until tomorrow, most likely. I’ll have Gareth and Freya take care of you and show you around. Have a pleasant day, Thalassa." Without waiting for my reply, he disappeared, the servant trailing behind him.

"You too... Hadrian," I muttered belatedly to the empty room.

Left alone in the vast dining hall, I exhaled deeply. My mind swirled with questions. What could Madame Penrose want that had left Hadrian so visibly irritated? Was she truly his sister, or was "sister" merely a title? My head throbbed from the endless speculations. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of relief at having postponed the daunting revelation about my family.

Finishing the last sip of my coffee, I decided it was time to return to my room. I stood and made my way toward the door I’d entered through. Just as I reached for the handle, Mr. Larkspur appeared suddenly, nearly making me jump out of my skin.

"Ah, I see you’ve finished your breakfast, Ms. Halloway," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, a smug grin plastered on his face.

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my racing heart. "You nearly gave me a heart attack," I muttered, forcing a tight smile.

His smirk didn’t waver as he turned on his heel. "Follow me. I’ll take you back to your room," he said curtly, already walking ahead.

I hurried after him, barely keeping pace. When I caught up, I shot him a glare, but he merely looked at me and sneered. A vein throbbed in my temple. For a fleeting moment, I wanted nothing more than to punch him.

"Why do you keep calling me Ms. Halloway?" I asked, my tone daring. "I’m sure you’ve done your research and know that’s not my real name."

He stopped abruptly, turning to me with a raised brow. "Well, well," he said, a mocking lilt to his voice. "It seems you’re not entirely clueless, Ms. Halloway. Yes, we’ve been to your apartment. We retrieved your rather unfashionable wardrobe, your fake IDs, and your laptop. They’re all waiting for you in your room."

"You don’t like me, do you?"

"Not in the slightest," he replied flatly.

"That’s unfortunate," I said, a grin tugging at my lips. "Because your master made it very clear I’m his guest, and you’re supposed to take good care of me."

His tongue clicked in irritation, and his smirk vanished. I chuckled quietly, feeling a small, satisfying victory.

"Can we get going now?" I asked, lacing my words with mock politeness.

"Certainly, Ms. Halloway," he bit out, resuming his brisk pace.

As we walked, I asked casually, "Does the Lord Protector know about my IDs?"

"Of course," he replied without hesitation.

"And he wasn’t alarmed?"

"Alarmed?" Mr. Larkspur laughed derisively. "You think we see you as a threat? Please. You’re not even worth considering as dangerous."

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I muttered, "Right... of course not."

Finally, we reached my room. True to form, Mr. Larkspur ignored any semblance of courtesy, barging in ahead of me.

"The maids have arranged your belongings in the closet. Your laptop is on the nightstand," he said nonchalantly, dropping into an armchair by the bed as if it were his own.

I walked to the closet and opened it. Only a couple of dresses and a jacket hung there. "Where’s the rest of my clothes?"

"I threw them out," he said casually.

"You what?!"

"Honestly, how could you even wear such dreadful things?"he said with a look of mock horror.

I stared at him, my hands clenched into fists. This man was insufferable. And yet, a small part of me couldn’t help but admire his audacity. He was, after all, exactly the sort of infuriatingly loyal servant Hadrian would have.