Page 79 of The Donor’s Dilemma

She gestured to the dog who ran back and forth, jumping up and snagging a claw on her dress.

The audience laughed again but Verity couldn’t help her sympathetic wince as the goddess shooed Phoenar’s twin sister, Wren. Havenshire raised humans to hate the first werewolf, to despise her and all the wolves that followed for her many betrayals and fights with her brother. But looking down at the way Pyraea - apparently - doted on one child and ignored the other, was the violent sibling rivalry any surprise?

Theo’s hand tightened around hers, their fingers entwined on her lap as the curtain dropped for intermission. Lights turned on and Marcy slapped her knee before standing.

“Drink, Verity?” she asked, slipping behind the curtain separating the front of the box from a small sitting area behind.

Not willing to let her go, Theo’s hand slid around her waist as they entered the space and found seats.

The box was as grand as she'd hoped for, all gold leaf and fine paintings, though a little cramped. However, the view of the stage wasn’t the best, sitting high and to the side, watching the play in near-profile. Most of the other boxes housed similar patrons to their own, mixed couples and groups enjoying each other’s company up where the masses couldn’t see. Hiding behind their privilege.

Marcy and Elliot exchanged a hushed word as she poured two glasses of champagne, before Elliot clapped his hands with a broad smile. “Fancy something a little stronger?” he asked Theo, nodding towards the door.

Theo didn’t move, only looking to Verity with the same look of worry that hadn’t left his face all night. Considering he was the one who had asked her to enjoy the night, he was sure doing a shitty job of it himself.

He lingered a moment too long, even when she nodded to the door.

“Go on,” she insisted. “Get me a whiskey?”

He gave her an incredulous look, one that asked Really? Whiskey? before standing, giving her hand one last squeeze. She wanted to offer him more than a tiny quirk of her lips but there was a numbness in her chest, a disconnect stopping her from letting him know she was okay. That they were okay. They weren’t.

“Champers?” Marcy asked, hopping into Theo’s vacated seat and offering her a glass as the vampires left.

“I over did the champagne the other night,” Verity said. The thought of drinking it turned her stomach.

“Ah,” Marcy took a sip, brow arched. “Is that what’s wrong?”

“Pardon?”

“Is that what’s wrong with you and Theo?”

“No,” Verity said, a little too high. “No. There’s nothing…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Even she didn’t believe the lie.

Marcy nodded, face grim. “That’s okay, love. You can tell me if you want to though, I won’t say anything to Theo. It’s… normal to have doubts and…”

“No…”

“I’m just saying, it isn’t always easy. If you need to talk to someone, I’m here.”

Marcy’s eyes crinkled with a sweet smile, her words reminding Verity of all the questions she wanted to ask, about marriage and children. It all seemed trivial now.

“There were protesters at my support group earlier. I guess it’s just shaken me a bit. Both of us.”

Marcy nodded. “Bigots and cowards,” she said. “Happens every few years, it won’t last.”

Verity wasn't sure it was that simple. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a downer. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Then don’t let them ruin it for you. That’s how they win. And don’t apologise, love.” She gave Verity another warm, motherly smile as steps sounded in the hallway. “I mean it,” she whispered. “If you need to talk…”

“Thank you,” Verity said. She fully intended to take Marcy up on the offer. There were just some things she needed to understand first.

The door swung open, Elliot barging in, brandishing a wide grin and a bottle of what Verity assumed was whiskey. Theo followed, setting glasses on the table before reclaiming his seat from Marcy and throwing an arm back around Verity. Pulling her close, he asked, “You okay?”

Marcy was right, to an extent. Whatever was going on with the donors, and with Theo’s apparent anger issues, she couldn’t do anything about it right now. That didn’t mean that she could forget about it all, about Georgie, and the guilt was eating her alive. Still, for the sake of appearances, she rolled her eyes, leaning in until their noses almost touched, and said, “Oh no. In the two minutes you were gone, Marcy was a real meany.”

“That’s me,” the other human said with a wink. “I was just waiting for you to turn your back so I could harass your girl.”

Elliot scoffed. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”