Chapter 9
Fiona's POV
"Do you know who designed this gown?"
He reached out, his fingertips lightly lifting a corner of the skirt.
His fingers rubbed against the cold, silky fabric, his tone carrying an almost boastful arrogance.
"This is the final masterpiece of 'Nightweaver' Evelyn, the exclusive designer for the pure-blooded Wolf King Volkov family. This single inch of shark silk alone is priceless, not to mention these moonstones from the Far North. Those are supreme treasures that only royalty can possess. And only I, Caleb Thorne, can grant you such privilege."
He was emphasizing his bestowal, emphasizing my dependence, with the same arrogance as before.
I lowered my eyelids, concealing the mockery in my eyes, and said softly, "Thank you for arranging this, Caleb. It is... indeed very expensive."
"Expensive?" He chuckled, his fingers sliding up along the hem of the dress, finally stopping at my chin, forcing me to lift my head and look directly into those hypocritical eyes of his. "It's not just expensive. It represents your identity—my fiancée, the future Mrs. Thorne. It's also a shackle, reminding you of whom you belong to."
His fingertips caressed my skin with an uncomfortable invasiveness.
"What happened at the auditorium yesterday really disappointed me." Caleb's voice suddenly deepened, carrying a hint of dangerous coldness. "Broadcasting that kind of video in public—were you trying to destroy me? Or did you actually think that without me, you could survive in this cruel werewolf world?"
"I... I was just jealous of Emily."
I bit my teeth and spoke the lie that went against my consciousness. I had no choice. I could only temporarily disguise myself as a pitiful clown for now.
Only this way could I continue to seek survival in the narrow gaps between my greedy uncle and the hypocritical Caleb.
"Is that so? That's for the best. A woman without jealousy often makes a man feel quite defeated."
His fingers applied slight pressure, pinching me painfully.
"But don't get too carried away, Fiona. You need to understand clearly—without the Sterling family, without me, you are nothing. You're merely a castaway with mongrel blood running through your veins."
He was testing me. He was confirming whether the Fiona who dared to resist last night had been completely crushed by reality, whether she had reverted to that submissive puppet who obeyed his every command.
I felt the pain radiating from my chin, my heart pounding violently in my chest, but I forced myself not to tremble.
I slowly raised my hand, covering his cold hand with mine, and then displayed a docile and timid smile.
"I know I was wrong, Caleb." I said softly, my tone carrying just the right amount of remorse and submission. "Last night... I was just too frightened. I was afraid of losing you, afraid of losing this identity I could depend on. I won't do it again, I promise."
Caleb stared into my eyes, as if trying to find a trace of deception within them.
But I performed well. I let those gray-yellow eyes mist over with a layer of moisture, putting on the appearance of a frightened doe.
Finally, the wariness in his eyes slowly dissipated, replaced by a satisfied sense of total control.
"Very good." He released his grip, brushing aside the stray hair by my ear, his movements resuming that false tenderness. "As long as you obediently listen and be a proper Mrs. Thorne, I'll give you everything you want. Including... that pitiful little job of yours at the library."
He took my arm, feeling my body's compliance, and a satisfied curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"Let's go, my fiancée. Tonight, we'll let everyone know that you belong to me."
I obediently leaned against him, allowing him to lead me toward that black luxury car.
The moment the car door closed, it shut out the light from the outside world.
I watched the rapidly retreating night scenery outside the window. In my palm, that piece of obsidian was radiating a slightly cool temperature.
The car drove smoothly along the winding mountain road, finally stopping before that towering black iron gate.
The Volkov family's ancient castle stood in the night like a dormant prehistoric beast, countless lights outlining its silhouette in a manner both glorious and oppressive.
"Remember your place, Fiona."
Before getting out of the car, Caleb turned his head and warned coldly in a voice only the two of us could hear, "Tonight's attendees are all prominent figures in the wolf clan. Don't embarrass me, and don't even think about attracting anyone's attention. You just need to stay by my side like a pretty mute."
I nodded obediently, wearing that timid smile he was most satisfied with at the corners of my mouth. "I understand, Caleb."
He curved his lips with satisfaction and escorted me through the castle's main entrance.
The great hall was resplendent with gold and jade, filled with rustling silks and perfumed temples.
The air was thick with expensive perfume and the mellow fragrance of red wine, along with the uniquely oppressive pheromone scent emanating from the werewolves' bodies.
The moment Caleb and I walked in, the originally noisy hall fell into a brief silence. Countless gazes fell upon us like spotlights.
I could clearly distinguish the meanings within those stares—amazement, contempt, jealousy, mockery.
"Look, is that Professor Thorne's fiancée?"
"I heard she's a half-breed? My God, that red hair is so glaring!"
"The Gray Wolf family must be crazy to squeeze into the Coexistence Council's cabinet—actually marrying such a waste!"
Those whispers buzzed in my ears like flies. Caleb acted as if he hadn't heard anything, wearing a proper social smile as he led me through the crowd.
His hand gripped my waist tightly, the force painfully intense, as if declaring ownership to everyone while constantly reminding me—don't even think about escaping!
We had just reached the center of the banquet hall when a group of lavishly dressed pure-blood werewolves surrounded us. They held champagne glasses in their hands, their eyes moving back and forth between Caleb and me with a kind of theatrical mockery.
"Professor Thorne, I heard yesterday's lecture was absolutely spectacular!"
A middle-aged man with a small mustache spoke first. He was an elder from a collateral branch of the Black Wolf family, his tone full of sarcasm.
"Especially that multimedia presentation—even old fossils like us watched with flushed faces. I never imagined that Professor Thorne not only possesses profound literary accomplishments but is also so vigorous in practical matters."
A round of low laughter erupted around us.
The smile on Caleb's face froze for an instant, then became even more brilliant, as if the person publicly executed on the podium last night wasn't him at all.
"You flatter me, Elder." Caleb bowed slightly, his posture extremely humble, completely devoid of that superior professorial bearing he displayed at the academy. "There was a minor equipment malfunction yesterday that was exploited by someone with ulterior motives. However, this also proves my candor, doesn't it? I, Caleb Thorne, have never been one to conceal my private life."
