His voice pulled me back from the dark. My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, but when I finally opened them, Thorne was standing beside the bed. He exhaled deeply when he saw me conscious and reached out to brush my hair away.
I turned my head without thinking.
He froze. Then he pulled his hand back, as if I were the one who burned him.
“Aria, I know you’re angry,” he said, his voice clipped and icy. “But this time, you crossed the line. I can’t keep indulging your behavior.”
A laugh escaped me—dry, bitter, almost painful. “Indulging me?” I shot back. “Thorne, did you even bother to find out what actually happened?”
He clearly hadn’t expected resistance. His expression darkened at once. “You know exactly what you did,” he said coldly. “I’m not here to argue. I’m here to tell you how this will be handled. Because of your outburst, Lilith’s reputation has been destroyed. When you’re discharged, you’ll host a formal banquet and publicly apologize to her. You’ll admit that the rumors were caused by your misunderstanding and clear her name. As for your father—his condition will be explained as a standard surgical risk associated with brain aneurysms.”