The door to Marcus' study at Blackwood Manor stood closed.
Marcus stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. He didn't turn around, yet I knew he'd heard my footsteps.
I broke the silence first. "It was Dorian who took that silver blade strike for me at the training ground—not Damon."
Marcus turned to face me. He said, his gaze heavy with weariness, "I've known all along."
His voice came out low and rough. "That day, Dorian walked out of the woods with his entire shirt soaked through from the wound in his left side, his hand pressed tight against the gash. Ten minutes later, Damon showed up in front of everyone wearing a blood-stained coat, and the whole pack praised him for his bravery."
I curled my fingers tight, nails digging sharply into my palms. "Why didn't you expose the truth?"
Ma
