He Chased Me to Spite His Enemy. So I Left Him at the Altar Chapter 05

He Chased Me to Spite His Enemy. So I Left Him at the Altar Chapter 05

“Baby, why are you crying?” 

He set down the bowl, frantically wiping my tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay?” 

I looked down and slowly closed my eyes, but then I was pulled into Dorian Thorne’s arms. 

His embrace was still so hot. Werewolves‘ body temperatures naturally rise when they’re comforting their mates–it’s instinct. I used to think that was proof he cared about me. Now it just felt pathetic. 

He stroked my back gently and started explaining: “Baby, I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

“I was just too excited–about marrying you. I couldn’t believe it was really happening. I was afraid it was a dream, so I needed to clear my head. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Can you forgive me?” 

Liar. 

“We’ve got twenty days until the wedding. I’m going to stay home with you the whole time and make sure you’re the most beautiful bride, okay?” 

But Dorian Thorne… there is no *us* after this. 

He wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumb. 

Those deep brown eyes of his–when they look at you, they make you believe he’s the most devoted man alive. Werewolf eyes are just built that way. Their pupils dilate, and it makes them look incredibly focused. But it’s just anatomy. Not love. 

“I’m going to step outside for a smoke. Then we’re checking you out of here.” 

Maybe Dorian Thorne was too confident in me. 

Or maybe he just didn’t care if I had doubts after all, right 

now he was just following his boys‘ advice. Just going through 

the motions of being devoted. 

So I picked up his phone. It kept buzzing with messages. 

The passcode was my birthday. 10/31. The day before Halloween. I remembered him looking at my ID and laughing, saying, “Of course you were born to be with a werewolf.” 

I’d always known the passcode. I’d just never checked his phone before. 

I opened it. A girl saved under **DoriansMoon** had sent a bunch of messages. 

They’d added each other yesterday. 

**Dorian, you got back so late. Make sure you rest.** 

**I heard you’re getting married soon… can you send me an invitation? I want some good luck too.** 

**I saw you holding your stomach when you got off the plane –are you not feeling well? Do werewolves get stomachaches? 

** 

**I stayed up making you pumpkin soup. It’s good for the stomach. Tell me I’m amazing!** 

He hadn’t replied to any of the earlier ones. Except that last 

one. 

He’d written: **Bring it to this address.” 

** 

I looked sideways at the pink thermos on the table. My 

stomach turned again. 

More messages from her kept coming: 

**Are you sick? Are you okay? I’ll stay at the hospital with you, okay?** 

**Let me know when you finish the soup, and I’ll make more.** 

**Take care of yourself, Dorian.** 

**I sat in the lobby all night. My legs are so numb… and my period is killing me.** 

I closed the phone and marked all the messages as unread. 

Then I got out of bed. 

In the lobby, sure enough, I saw Dorian Thorne. 

And that same girl from yesterday. 

I stood there, watching them laugh and talk through the 

crowd. 

The girl was gesturing animatedly, her ponytail bouncing. 

At some point, she pouted and rubbed her stomach. Dorian Thorne reached out and ruffled her hair. 

For a moment, I felt like I was the other woman, sneaking a 

look at someone else’s relationship. 

From last night’s kiss to today’s hair–ruffling. 

Looked like Dorian Thorne liked her just fine. 

And why wouldn’t he? Who doesn’t love someone who’s good to them without expecting anything in return? Someone whose whole world revolves around them? 

I laughed bitterly at myself. 

I turned a corner–and ran right into Cassian Greymoor. 

He stepped out of the shadows, his eyes fixed on Dorian Thorne with something dark and vicious in them. His silver pupils glowed faintly in the dim light–the kind of glow you see right before a wolf shifts. “This is the guy you picked over me?” 

I looked him straight in the eye. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

“Evelyn Blackwood… why’d you stop chasing me?” 

I thought that was kind of random. I chased him for ten years. Wasn’t that enough? 

Ever since I stopped, he’d been popping up like a bad penny, 

trying to stay relevant. 

He probably didn’t even like me. Same as Dorian Thorne–just 

wounded pride. 

“And after all this, you’re still going to marry him?” Cassian 

Greymoor asked me. 

I twisted my lips. “Worry about yourself.” 

“I’m done with you. I really, really don’t want to see you 

anymore.” 

As I walked past him, Cassian Greymoor asked: “Even if he’s seeing someone else… you’re okay with that?” 

I wasn’t okay with it. I pressed my hand over where my heart 

was. 

It hurt. 

But I knew that someday, it would heal. 

Twenty more days. Evelyn Blackwood, just hold on. 

On the way home with Dorian Thorne, I told him that I’d accidentally ruined the custom wedding dress. 

“Do you think it’s a sign that something bad is going to happen?” 

I watched his face carefully. 

He just frowned a little–werewolves tend to frown deeper than humans because of how their brow bones are shaped- but it faded fast. He turned his head, took my hand, and smiled as gently as ever. “Then we’ll go look at new dresses tomorrow, okay?” 

That dress had taken six months to make. It was by my favorite designer–one of a kind. 

It had arrived a week ago, and it looked amazing on me. Dorian Thorne had just happened to be missing that day and never 

saw me in it. 

I didn’t want it anymore. 

Did I regret it? 

Not one bit. 

Want to play games, Dorian Thorne? This is only the 

beginning.