Dorian answered with a single word, flat and cold.
"Yeah."
That one syllable landed like a dagger buried straight into Rowan's chest—clean, sharp, undeniable. An admission. No hesitation, no apology, no deflection. It was almost as if Dorian had been waiting, expecting the question all along.
Rowan's fingers tightened around the glass in his hand until the pressure bit into his skin, heat surging through his veins like molten fire. The temper that had slept, barely restrained beneath his skin, snapped awake. His wolf stirred, low and guttural, sensing the violation of his territory, the threat of someone daring to cross the boundaries he had set.
So that night, when Audrey had looked him squarely in the eye and calmly told him she was eating at her professor's place… she had been lying. Boldly. Without hesitation. Without even a hint of guilt. Rowan's teeth ground together. She had never dared to lie to him before.
