Chapter 171: Stop pretending
The mention of Maverick left the table awkwardly quiet. Alexander leaned back in his chair and released a heavy sigh, his fingers tapping once against the armrest before he spoke.
"Maverick would have been a good choice," he remarked thoughtfully. "He’s the future Beta, comes from a respectable family, and his name was already on the list."
Yuki’s eyes widened. Across the table, Kieran froze for the briefest second, his fork hovering above his plate before he slowly lowered it. Aevia, however, seemed more disappointed than surprised. She picked up another piece of food and shook her head.
"Then I suppose we’ll have to remove his name from the list," she murmured, her tone carrying a faint note of disappointment.
Yuki stared at her.
There was a list? Across the table, Kaden looked equally stunned. His expression barely changed, but his fingers slowly curled against his thigh beneath the table. A list. They had actually made a list of potential men for Yuki.
His gaze drifted towards Alexander, and something dark settled behind his eyes. His father really had thought of everything: the wedding, the succession, the court, and now Yuki’s future marriage. It suddenly sank in just how much effort Alexander was putting into securing the perfect future he had built for himself. He was desperate to eliminate every possible threat to it.
Kaden’s jaw tightened. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to push his chair back and walk out.
Lydia, who had remained quiet throughout most of the conversation, finally frowned. "Isn’t this a little early?" she questioned cautiously. "Yuki just turned eighteen."
Aevia gave a slightly nervous laugh as she reached for her glass. "It’s better to start now than later," she replied casually.
Lydia’s brows knitted together. Among werewolves, finding a fated mate at eighteen and marrying soon afterwards was hardly unusual. Once the bond appeared, there was little reason to wait.
A chosen mate, however, was an entirely different matter. Most wolves who chose a mate did so much later in life, usually after reaching their thirties without finding their fated partner. A chosen marriage at eighteen was rare enough to attract attention. Lydia could tell there was more behind Aevia’s decision than she was saying. She had spent years working alongside influential families and knew better than to pry into matters that powerful people preferred to keep private.
"If you say so," she replied with a small nod. Her gaze softened when it settled on Yuki. "Just remember, a chosen marriage isn’t something to be taken lightly," Lydia advised.
Yuki nodded slowly, offering her a polite smile. "I know," she answered.
She hadn’t actually agreed to the arrangement yet. She wasn’t even sure she wanted one. But explaining that at the table would only create another round of questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.
The meal ended a few minutes later on a subdued note. Aevia was the first to rise, using the wedding preparations as an excuse.
"Lydia, could I borrow your assistant for a moment?" she asked, already gathering the papers beside her plate. "There are a few things I need help sorting out."
"Of course," Lydia replied.
The moment Aevia left, Yuki realised she had no reason to remain at the table. She dabbed the corner of her lips with her napkin and carefully pushed her chair back.
"I’ll take my leave as well," she announced politely. "The meal was delicious." She paused, then glanced towards Terence. "Terry, come with me. You still haven’t had your tour of the residence."
Terence narrowed his eyes at her. Yuki smiled sweetly. It was the kind of smile that promised absolutely nothing good. Alexander gave an approving nod. "Go ahead."
Terence reluctantly stood and followed Yuki from the dining room. The moment the doors closed behind them, Kaden released a humourless breath.
"Can we leave now, or have we not played the happy family long enough for your taste?" he asked sarcastically, pushing his chair back.
"Sit."
Alexander’s single command struck the room like a physical blow. Kaden froze. The next second, Alexander released his full Alpha authority. Pressure crashed down over the dining room.
Kaden’s jaw clenched as the force pressed against his wolf. To an ordinary werewolf, the weight would have been crushing. To an Alpha, it was an unmistakable challenge. His wolf bristled instinctively. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to resist. Instead, Kaden slowly lowered himself back into his chair, his fingers curling into fists beneath the table.
Alexander’s gaze moved between his sons. "Good," he muttered.
Kaden’s nostrils flared. Killian remained remarkably calm. He picked up his glass and took a measured sip before setting it down.
"What exactly do you want to talk about?" he asked evenly.
Kaden snorted. "Probably another opportunity to flaunt his affection for Aevia."
"Kaden," Alexander snapped, his voice carrying a sharp warning.
Kaden’s lips curled into a smirk. "Was I lying, Father?" he challenged.
"Kaden." Alexander was losing his patience.
"Let him speak," Kieran interjected quietly.
Alexander’s expression softened for a fraction of a second as he glanced towards Kieran. "I appreciate that."
Kieran gave a small nod. Alexander folded his hands on the table. "I assume you’ve all heard about the chosen marriage," he started. Kaden’s expression hardened. "I intend to have Yuki engaged immediately after Aevia and I are married," Alexander announced calmly.
Kaden’s jaw tightened. The words landed harder than he expected. "So why are you telling us?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.
Alexander’s gaze turned cold.
"Because I don’t want any of you pulling a stunt that could ruin it," he replied firmly. "I don’t care about your reservations regarding Yuki, but I know you’re all intelligent enough to understand the importance of this engagement. It will satisfy the court and settle the succession concerns surrounding this family." He paused, letting the words sink in. "It benefits all of you."
A short, bitter laugh escaped Kaden.
"Father, is her engagement really meant to benefit us, or is it meant to benefit you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "Because from where I’m sitting, you seem rather anxious about making sure everything goes according to your plan."
Alexander’s expression hardened.
Meanwhile, far from the dining room, Yuki marched down the corridor with Terence following behind her. She walked faster than her recovering legs should have allowed, the tip of her walking stick striking the floor in quick, irritated taps.
"Yuki," Terence called after her, his voice carrying a note of caution.
She ignored him. "Yuki, slow down."
She finally stopped at a quiet corner and turned around, cheeks flushed with anger.
"What exactly was the meaning of that?" she demanded, her voice tight.
Terence’s expression changed. The playful grin disappeared. His eyes flickered towards the corridor behind them before returning to her. Then the corner of his mouth curled into a strangely knowing smile.
"I wanted to see if you still had your old crush," he admitted quietly.
Yuki’s anger faltered.
"What?"
Terence chuckled under his breath. "And from the way you panicked back there, I think you still do."
Yuki stared at him. "What are you saying?" she whispered.
Terence stepped closer, his earlier lightness gone. "He was right there, and you were scared of admitting it. You’d rather throw someone else under the bus."
Yuki’s stomach tightened. Terence planted one hand against the wall beside her head, blocking her path.
Yuki’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected him to corner her.
"What are you trying to do?" she demanded, tightening her grip on the walking stick.
His gaze remained fixed on hers. "Stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about, Yuki."
Her back met the wall. She stared up at him, unsettled by the sudden change in his demeanour. Terence had always been the annoying boy she remembered, but standing this close, she realised just how much he had changed. He had grown into a broad-shouldered warrior with a formidable presence, nothing like the boy she used to know. Yuki tightened her grip on her walking stick.
"I really don’t know what you’re talking about," she insisted, her voice quieter now, lower than the sound of her racing heart. His gaze darkened.