Page 57 of Wrath


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My father turns away, and I feel Silas stiffen as my mother then Annastasia follow like sheep. He clears his throat, and Father turns slightly, arching a brow. “You forgot to greet my wife,” Silas says firmly, a challenge in his tone.

Father laughs. “When I agreed to this farce of a marriage, I made it clear she was no longer a part of my family.”

Silas matches his amused expression. “Exactly. She is my wife. You didn’t greet her.”

My father’s smirk fades, and he sighs before stepping closer. “Wynter,” he mutters, leaning in and briefly pressing his cheek to mine. Before any of the others can do the same, I turn to Silas and smile. “I need the bathroom.” He kisses my cheek and gives a nod.

I spend at least five minutes trying to steady my racing heart. I didn’t expect my father to attend, which, now I think about it, is stupid. Why wouldn’t he? But either way, I hadn’t prepared myself, and I feel both nervous and sick at the same time. How can I have dinner with a man who treated me no better than adog and make conversation with the woman who gave birth to me like she’s no more than an acquaintance.

When I rejoin them, they’re seated for dinner, and I take my place to the left of Silas. I’m relieved Summer is beside me, and she gives my hand a quick squeeze under the table. Adam and Reginald have also joined the family, with Adam seated at the opposite table end to Silas.

“Welcome to our home,” Silas says as Aurelia tops everyone’s glass with something fizzy.

“Champagne,” Father says, holding his glass in the air as if to examine it. “Classy.”

Silas sniggers. “Only the best for such a celebration, don’t you agree?”

He nods, smirking as he holds it more to the centre of the table. “To our families merging.”

“To families,” repeats Silas, doing the same with his glass. Everyone else seems to follow so I do the same, clinking glasses before we all take a sip. I wince as the bubbles hit the back of my throat and almost push out through my nose. I giggle, and Silas smiles, handing me a napkin. “Although we already merged after I married Wynter, no?”

It’s met with silence, and I stare down at my empty plate. I feel my father’s anger rolling from him as he sits straighter and fixes Silas with a glare. “She is the daughter of a warrior. She isn’t ranked high enough to be part of any family, let alone a celebration of merging the two.”

“Maybe it’s time we changed that.” I lift my head to stare at Silas in surprise. “Maybe lots of things need to change.”

My father smirks, placing his glass down. “Like?”

“If we continue to marry amongst our four families, our bloodlines will become muddy.”

“Your point?”

I glance around to see everyone with their heads slightly bowed, except Adam and Reginald, who are watching their father through surprised eyes. “You know the risks of mixing bloodlines.”

“What risk?” I blurt out, instantly regretting it when my father chuckles in that cold way he has that makes me feel stupid.

“Do you see what is happening here, Silas? Talking business in front of the women isn’t wise.”

“Because what we think isn’t important?” I ask, frowning. “Even though this mixing of bloodlines might affect the same women who carry your children?”

“Are you allowing her to speak to me like that?” Father asks Silas.

Silas places a hand on my knee and gently squeezes as a silent warning to behave. “You’re right,” he says with a smile. “We will discuss it at the next meeting. Aurelia, we’re ready for dinner,” he adds, and she nods, disappearing into the kitchen.

Dinner is served, and I’m pleased when Aurelia joins us, much to my parents’ horror. We eat the meal in silence, like always. When everyone is full of roast chicken and fresh vegetables, Aurelia begins to collect the plates. As she picks mine up, I grab her wrist and smile warmly. “Thank you so much, Aurelia, that was delicious.”

I feel my parents watching the exchange, and Silas sees it as a chance to rile my father some more, so he also thanks her. She’s so surprised, she just nods before rushing off to the kitchen.

Silas suggests drinks out on the terrace, and we break out onto the decked area. He keeps hold of my hand, pulling me to him. “I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs close to my ear.

“I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

He smirks. “Although your father doesn’t seem to believe it, I am his equal. All forefathers are.”

It’s the first time he’s mentioned my father with a negative tone, and I take the chance to steer him in the right direction. “Really? He always talked about being in charge,” I say innocently, feeling him stiffen. “He always led us to believe he had a final say on everything.”

“Interesting,” Silas mutters.

“When he talked about making changes, I assumed you were all in on it.”