CHAPTER 384: THE GOLDEN FAMILY

Vincent/Vaelthor~

"It’s strange," I said quietly, as if speaking only to Katrina. "How even at breakfast, I can still feel the room watching me."

Her brows pulled together. "What do you mean?"

I tilted my head toward her family, lowering my voice but making sure it carried just enough for the right ears to catch. "Your brother. Nicholas. Even your parents. It’s like they’re waiting for me to make the wrong move."

She stiffened slightly. I’d planted the seed. Now I just had to water it.

"That’s not true," she whispered fiercely. "They’re just... protective."

"Protective," I repeated softly, letting the word drip with just enough bitterness to curl under her skin. "Or suspicious?"

Alexander’s fork clinked against his plate.

"I can hear you," he said coolly.

Katrina whipped her head toward him. "Alex."

He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Well, if he’s going to whisper about us like we’re not sitting right here, then yeah, I’m going to answer."

Zane’s voice rumbled low, a quiet warning, but Alexander didn’t stop. His sharp gaze pinned me like a blade.

"Funny how someone shows up out of nowhere with a shadow-drenched past and suddenly my sister can’t breathe without him."

Katrina’s face flushed, more with anger than embarrassment. "Alex, stop."

"Why?" he demanded, his voice cracking through the air. "Why do you keep defending him like he’s—"

"Because I love him!" she snapped, the words ripping out of her chest before she could stop them.

The chair legs screeched harshly against the cold marble floor as she shot to her feet. The sound was loud—too loud—shattering the fragile rhythm of conversation that had filled the room just moments before.

Everything stilled.

Forks hovered halfway to plates. Cups stopped just short of lips. Conversations that had been little more than a murmur died instantly, swallowed by the heavy silence now pressing down on us.

Every pair of eyes turned toward her, drawn like iron to a magnet.

Even Nicholas, who rarely lost his composure, froze in place. His expression flickered—confusion, shock, something unreadable—before settling into a stillness that felt almost dangerous.

Cassandra’s silver eyes locked on me, sharp and unrelenting, as if she’d drawn an invisible blade and aimed it right at my chest. There was no softness left in her gaze, only the raw honesty of someone who’d just thrown a piece of themselves into the fire.

Across the table, Zane leaned back slowly, releasing a long, controlled breath, as though steadying himself against the storm brewing between us. Natalie’s fingers tightened around her cup until her knuckles whitened. Sunlight slipped through the window, catching the edges of her hair, making it glow like a halo that didn’t quite belong to an angel. The light seemed to pulse around her, flickering faintly, as if even it knew a line had just been crossed.

No one spoke. The silence wasn’t just quiet—it throbbed. Heavy. Real. And in that single heartbeat, everything shifted.

I lowered my head slightly, just enough to look vulnerable, not threatening. And then I let the tiniest trace of shadow ripple beneath my skin, like a pulse.

Alexander rose from his seat. "You don’t even know him."

"I know enough," she hissed. "And I’m tired of you treating me like I’m five years old. You don’t trust him, fine. But I do."

My lips twitched into a smile I quickly hid behind a downward glance.

Sebastian looked amused. Cassandra didn’t. She leaned forward slightly, voice calm but cutting. "Katrina... no one’s saying you can’t care for him. But trust isn’t given, it’s earned. And we don’t know where he came from."

Katrina’s hands trembled slightly. "I don’t need you to approve."

Nicholas shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. His gaze flicked between his best friend and the rest of the table, caught in the middle.

And then, softly, I added fuel. "It’s okay," I said gently, "I understand."

All heads snapped to me.

"I know I’m not exactly... one of you," I continued, voice low, carefully measured. "I’ve felt it since the day I arrived. The way people look at me. Like a wolf in a house of lambs."

"Or a fox in a henhouse," Alexander muttered.

Katrina’s anger flared hot and fast. "You’re unbelievable."

Nicholas raised his hands slightly. "Kat—"

She spun toward him, hurt flashing in her blue eyes. "What? You agree with him too?"

He hesitated. One heartbeat. Two. Too long.

She saw it.

I saw it.

And Sylthara did too. Her breath hitched softly beside me.

"It’s not like that," Nicholas said finally. "I just think—maybe they’re not wrong to be careful."

Katrina let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Careful. Right."

Sylthara’s chair creaked softly. I hadn’t even realized how quiet she’d been until now. She stared at Nicholas like she didn’t recognize him, like every word he’d just said was a blade in her chest.

"Of course you’d say that," she whispered, voice barely audible but laced with hurt.

Nicholas’s face twisted, guilt flashing in his eyes. "Winter—wait, that’s not—"

But she was already standing. Tears shone in her eyes as she pushed away from the table, her chair scraping back. No one stopped her as she walked out of the room, shoulders rigid, head high.

The room hung heavy with silence.

Nicholas shot to his feet. "Winter!" He ran after her, the doors slamming shut behind him.

Katrina’s hands clenched into fists. "See?" she said bitterly, turning to her family. "This is exactly why I can’t talk to any of you about him. About us."

"Katrina—" Natalie started softly, but her daughter shook her head.

"No. Don’t." She turned sharply and stormed out as well, the gold in her hair catching the sunlight like fire trailing behind her.

And just like that, the golden family cracked a little at the edges.

I sat back slowly, letting the faintest curl of a smile tug at my lips.

Zane rubbed his temples. Natalie sighed. Sebastian was half-smiling like he’d just witnessed a theatre performance. Alexander glared daggers at me, but he’d already lost the moment.

Cassandra stayed silent, her knuckles white against the edge of the table. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t need to. She’d heard her son’s hesitation regarding his mate. She’d felt it.

I’d promised Sylthara proof.

I’d just delivered it.

I rose from my seat with quiet grace, inclining my head to the King and Queen. "Thank you for breakfast," I murmured. "It was... illuminating."

And as I turned toward the doorway, the shadows whispered against my skin like a lover’s touch.

Behind me, the royal family picked at their fractured morning.

Ahead of me, war was already unfolding—quiet, precise, beautiful.

And I... was smiling.