The moment Lucien Blackthorne left the room, Evelyn finally exhaled. Only then did she realize how tense her body had become during his presence.
The door shut softly behind him, yet the atmosphere he carried lingered stubbornly in the chamber, pressed into the air like the fading scent of winter smoke.
Evelyn remained standing near the desk, staring at the closed door as though the Alpha might suddenly return and reveal this entire situation to be some elaborate misunderstanding.
He was far worse in person. Not cruel and not openly hostile. Just… overwhelming.
The novel had described Lucien Blackthorne as cold and difficult to approach, but words on a screen had not prepared her for the reality of him. There was a dangerous stillness about the man, a kind of quiet authority that made every movement feel intentional.
Even his gaze had weight behind it, as though he was always measuring the people around him against standards only he understood. And unfortunately for Evelyn, he had already noticed that something about her was different.
Wonderful.
She pressed both hands against her face for a moment before groaning softly into her palms.
"What kind of ridiculous life is this?"
No answer came.
Outside the tall windows, snow drifted slowly over the manor grounds. Blackthorne Manor looked even more intimidating beneath the pale gray sky, its dark stone walls rising above the forest like some ancient fortress hidden from the rest of the world.
Evelyn could see servants crossing the courtyard below, their heads bowed against the cold wind.
Everything here felt too real, detailed, and much alive to dismiss as a dream.
A sharp knock interrupted her thoughts.
Evelyn straightened immediately. "Come in."
Mina entered once again, this time carrying folded clothing draped carefully over her arms. "Madam, the Alpha has requested your presence for lunch."
Evelyn blinked.
"Lunch?"
"Yes, Madam."
Her stomach tightened unexpectedly.
The original Evelyn, well, the woman whose body she currently occupied, had apparently been married into this household only three weeks ago. From what Evelyn remembered of the novel, the second wife had barely interacted with Lucien at all before quietly fading into the background of the story.
So why was he inviting her to lunch?
Had he always done that?
Or had her strange behavior already attracted attention?
Mina approached and carefully placed the garments on the bed. "The young master will also attend."
Ah. That explained part of it.
Family obligation.
The thought eased her nerves slightly, though not by much.
"What exactly is expected of me?" Evelyn asked carefully.
Mina looked startled by the question. "Expected, Madam?"
"At lunch."
The maid hesitated. "The Alpha usually prefers silence while eating."
Evelyn resisted the urge to sigh dramatically. "Anything else?"
"The young master sits to his right. You sit to his left." Mina paused briefly before adding in a lower voice, "The servants will handle everything else."
Translation: Do not embarrass yourself.
Evelyn almost smiled.
She walked toward the bed and touched the folded dress Mina had brought. It was elegant in the severe way everything in this manor seemed to be, dark fabric, silver embroidery, high collar, and long sleeves. Beautiful, but distinctly lacking softness.
"Does this family hate colors?" she muttered under her breath.
Mina looked alarmed. "Madam?"
"Nothing."
An hour later, Evelyn stood outside the dining hall, trying very hard not to look like a woman about to walk into her own execution. The massive double doors towered before her, carved with intricate patterns of wolves and twisting branches.
Two guards stood nearby in formal black uniforms, both motionless as statues. One of them opened the door for her without a word. Warmth and candlelight greeted her first.
Then silence.
The dining hall was enormous, the long table at its center large enough to seat twenty people comfortably. Dark chandeliers hung overhead, their golden light reflecting softly against polished silverware and crystal glasses.
Tall windows overlooked the snowy forest outside, though heavy curtains framed the glass like shadows. And seated at the table already were Lucien Blackthorne and his son.
Evelyn's steps slowed instinctively.
Cassian Blackthorne looked exactly as she remembered from the novel, though somehow more intimidating in person. Seventeen years old, tall for his age, dressed in black formalwear that matched his father's severe aesthetic.
His features were sharp and striking, his dark hair slightly tousled as though he had run his fingers through it moments earlier. But his eyes were what caught attention most.
Gray.
Cold gray, almost silver, beneath the candlelight.
The same eyes as Lucien.
Cassian looked up the moment she entered.
The atmosphere shifted subtly.
Evelyn felt it immediately.
Not hostility exactly, but judgment.
Careful and restrained.
Lucien sat at the head of the table, one hand resting lazily against the arm of his chair as his gaze settled briefly on her. "Sit."
Evelyn moved toward the seat on his left, fully aware of Cassian watching her the entire time. She sat carefully, smoothing her dress beneath her, trying not to feel like an impostor wearing another woman's life.
Servants appeared almost instantly to pour tea. No one spoke.
The silence became so complete that Evelyn could hear the faint crackling of the fireplace at the far end of the hall.
This family truly treated meals like funeral ceremonies.
She reached for her tea mostly to give herself something to do.
Across from her, Cassian remained perfectly composed, though his posture carried a stiffness that reminded her painfully of someone perpetually waiting for disappointment.
Lucien, meanwhile, looked entirely unaffected by the oppressive quiet.
Naturally, he probably caused it.
Food arrived shortly after: roasted meat, warm bread, soup rich with herbs, and vegetables glazed lightly in butter. The dishes were elegant without appearing excessive. Every detail was arranged with meticulous care. Still, no one spoke.
Evelyn lasted approximately four minutes before the silence became unbearable.
"So," she said carefully, "how was your training today?"
Cassian visibly paused.
Lucien's gaze flickered toward her.
The servants looked like they wanted to disappear into the walls.
Apparently, conversation during meals truly was unusual.
Cassian answered first. "Normal."
"That sounds thrilling." A brief pause followed.
Then, unexpectedly, Cassian's mouth twitched slightly, not a smile. But close enough that Evelyn noticed. Lucien noticed too.
Evelyn picked up her spoon. "I assume Blackthorne Pack values discipline very highly."
Cassian nodded once. "Strength and discipline."
"And are children born knowing how to look intimidating, or is that taught separately?"
This time, Cassian genuinely looked surprised.
Lucien slowly set down his glass.
Evelyn realized she might be accidentally dismantling the family's emotional structure with basic conversation.
Whoops.
Cassian lowered his gaze briefly, though she caught the faintest trace of amusement before it disappeared. "Most people prefer silence during meals."
"I noticed."
"And yet you continue speaking."
"I'm trying to save us from dying of awkwardness."
Cassian actually smiled. Small, brief, and gone almost instantly. But it was real.
Lucien leaned back slightly in his chair, studying both of them with an unreadable expression.
Evelyn suddenly understood something important.
This household was starving for warmth. Not luxury or order.
Everything inside Blackthorne Manor was controlled to perfection, but none of it felt alive.
The servants moved carefully. The atmosphere remained stiff. Even Cassian, at seventeen, behaved more like a future ruler than an actual teenager. And Lucien…
Lucien carried loneliness like armor.
The realization unsettled her more than she expected.
"You fainted earlier," Cassian said suddenly.
Evelyn blinked. "Indeed."
"You worried the staff."
Translation: You disrupted the household routine.
"I'm fine now," she assured him.
Cassian studied her for a moment before asking quietly, "Do you remember what happened?"
The question caught her off guard.
Technically? No.
The original Evelyn's memories remained fragmented and incomplete. But she could hardly say that.
"Not really," she admitted carefully. "Everything felt dizzy."
Lucien finally spoke again. "The physician said there was no physical cause."
Evelyn glanced toward him. "Perhaps this house is simply overwhelming."
One dark brow lifted slightly. Cassian lowered his cup to hide what looked suspiciously like another smile.
Evelyn nearly stared.
Oh no. The future cold male lead had sarcasm. That was unexpectedly adorable.
The thought horrified her immediately afterward.
Nope. Absolutely not. Maternal thoughts only.
She mentally slapped herself back into place.
The meal continued with less tension afterward, though Lucien spoke little. Mostly, he observed.
Evelyn could feel his attention lingering every time she relaxed too much, as though he were trying to solve a problem she had unknowingly become.
It was unnerving.
Eventually, one of the servants approached Lucien quietly and murmured something into his ear. The Alpha's expression darkened almost imperceptibly.
"What happened?" Cassian asked immediately.
"Another patrol failed to report back."
The room seemed to cool.
Evelyn looked between them carefully.
Lucien's voice remained calm, but something dangerous moved beneath it now. "Northern border."
Cassian's jaw tightened slightly. "Again?"
Again...?
That word bothered Evelyn immediately.
The novel had mentioned rogue wolves near Blackthorne territory later in the story, but not this early. Either events were progressing differently from the original timeline, or the novel itself had hidden far more than it revealed.
Lucien rose smoothly from his seat. "I'll handle it personally."
Cassian stood almost immediately. "I'm coming."
"No." The answer came sharp enough to cut through the room.
Cassian's expression hardened. "Father--"
"You're staying here."
"I'm not a child."
"You're still my responsibility."
The tension between them thickened instantly.
Evelyn sat very still, suddenly feeling as though she had wandered into a private argument neither of them wanted witnessed.
Cassian's voice lowered. "You said the same thing last time."
"And I'll continue saying it until you understand."
A dangerous silence followed.
Lucien and Cassian looked painfully alike in that moment, with the same eyes, the same rigid composure, and the same refusal to yield. But beneath Cassian's controlled anger, Evelyn caught something else.
Fear...
Not afraid for himself. But for his father.
Lucien noticed it too. His expression softened by the smallest fraction. "Cassian."
The younger man looked away first. That tiny action somehow hurt more than shouting would have.
Evelyn suddenly understood this family far more clearly.
They cared deeply. They were just simply terrible at showing it.
Lucien adjusted the cuffs of his gloves before turning toward Evelyn. "Remain inside the manor tonight."
She frowned slightly. "Is the situation serious?"
"The forest has become unstable."
Again, that strange wording. Not dangerous, but unstable.
As though the land itself had changed. Evelyn's curiosity sharpened immediately, though common sense warned her not to pry too deeply on her second day of existence in this world.
Still…
"What exactly is happening outside the borders?" she asked carefully.
Lucien's gaze settled on her again. For one brief second, she had the absurd feeling that he was deciding how much truth she could handle.
"Animals have been behaving strangely," he said at last. "Patrol routes are picking up unfamiliar scents. Some of the rogues we captured recently…" His voice grew quieter. "Did not act normally."
Evelyn's stomach tightened.
The novel had definitely not mentioned this.
Cassian folded his arms. "The council thinks it's connected to the northern forest."
"The council thinks many useless things."
That answer sounded so dry that Evelyn nearly laughed.
Cassian looked mildly scandalized that she appeared close to smiling.
Lucien noticed too. His eyes narrowed faintly.
"You seem relaxed," he observed.
Evelyn paused.
Ah. Right!
Maybe acting amused while discussing dangerous rogue wolves was not the expected reaction.
She cleared her throat delicately. "Panic seems unhelpful."
A long silence followed.
Then, unexpectedly, Lucien gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment. Cassian noticed it immediately, too.
One of the servants approached again to clear the dishes. The atmosphere shifted slightly as the formal meal ended, though the tension regarding the northern border still lingered heavily in the room.
Lucien pulled on his coat.
The movement drew Evelyn's attention unwillingly.
He looked unfairly attractive, doing absolutely nothing dramatic.
"Lock the eastern wing tonight," he instructed one of the guards near the door.
"Yes, Alpha."
"And double the patrols."
"Yes, Alpha."
Cassian stepped forward again. "At least take Beta Ronan with you."
"I already intended to." Lucien reached for the gloves resting on the table, then paused unexpectedly. His gaze shifted toward Evelyn once more. There was something strange about the way he looked at her now.
"What is it?"
"You truly remember nothing unusual from before you fainted?" he asked.
Evelyn's pulse skipped once. Because she did remember something unusual. The original owner's fragmented emotions. The crushing loneliness in this house. And beneath it all, a strange feeling she still could not explain.
Like something inside the forest was watching the manor. Even now, sitting safely inside the dining hall, she could feel it faintly beneath her skin. A restless sensation. As though the woods beyond Blackthorne Manor were alive.
But she only shook her head calmly. "Nothing important."
Lucien studied her face for another long second. Then he nodded once and turned toward the door. The moment he left, the room felt lighter, not safer. Just less overwhelming.
Cassian remained standing near the table, watching the closed doors after his father disappeared beyond them. For the first time since entering the hall, he looked his age.
Young, tired, and worried.
Evelyn hesitated briefly before speaking softly. "He'll come back safely."
Cassian went still. Then he looked at her carefully, as if uncertain why she would bother saying something comforting at all.
"You don't know that," he said quietly.
No. She didn't.
But the fear in his eyes reminded her too painfully of people left waiting for bad news.
Evelyn rose slowly from her chair. "Maybe not," she admitted gently. "But I think he'd destroy anyone who tried otherwise."
Cassian stared at her. Then, unexpectedly, a quiet laugh escaped him. And somehow, in the cold silence of Blackthorne Manor, it felt like the first crack appearing in ice that had been frozen for far too long.