Chapter 163
Lynette's POV
The dinner ended. I stood from the table, muscles stiff from sitting still for so long.
"Thank you for the meal, Hansen." I kept my voice polite and neutral. "It was generous of you."
Hansen's face lit up like I'd just made his whole week. "Wonderful! But the evening is still young. Why not stay a bit longer?"
I felt Elara shift beside me. She was ready to leave too.
"We should head back." I gave him a small smile, the kind that said I appreciated the offer but wouldn't budge. "Our family will worry if we're out too late."
Elara nodded quickly. "Yes. Mom gets anxious when we're gone after dark."
Hansen looked disappointed, but he recovered fast. That professional butler mask slipped back into place. "Of course, of course. Let me arrange for a driver to take you back to town."
"That's not necessary," I started.
"I'll take them."
Kael's voice cut through the room, deep and final.
I turned. He stood in the doorway, still wearing that perfectly tailored shirt, but his jaw was tight and his shoulders carried tension that hadn't been there before. Whatever Drake had told him, it wasn't good news.
Hansen's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Alpha, you don't need to trouble yourself. I can easily arrange transport."
"It's fine." Kael's tone left no room for argument. "I'll handle it."
We walked out of the main house. The night air hit my face, cool and clean after the stuffy formality of that dining room. Kael walked beside me, not ahead or behind, but right there like equals. Elara trailed a few steps back. I could feel her eyes on us, watching and always watching.
The garden path stretched ahead with trimmed hedges on both sides. Ornate lampposts cast pools of yellow light every few meters. Everything about this place screamed old money and old power.
My boots crunched on gravel. The sound felt too loud in the quiet.
"What was the emergency?" Elara's voice broke the silence.
Kael didn't look at her. "Pack business. It's handled."
His tone said that was all we were getting.
I studied his profile, the hard line of his jaw and the way his eyes stayed fixed straight ahead. Whatever Drake had told him, Kael was still chewing on it. Not my problem, I reminded myself. I was here for resources and protection, not to get tangled in Harrington family drama.
We reached the center of the estate where a wide plaza opened up. Fountain in the middle. More of those fancy lampposts. Then I heard it. Wheels on stone.
A black wheelchair rolled into view from the opposite path. Someone was pushing it, a guard built like a brick wall with respectful posture. But my attention locked on the man in the chair.
Middle-aged, maybe late forties, though it was hard to tell with werewolves. The right side of his face was marked with a thick scar that ran from his temple down to his jaw. An old wound, the kind that told a story. But his eyes were what got me. Sharp and calculating, like a hawk sizing up prey.
Kael stopped walking. I felt it before I saw it, the way his whole body went rigid.
The wheelchair came closer. The guard pushing it nodded to Kael with deference and respect. The scarred man's gaze swept over us, lingered on me and Elara, then settled back on Kael.
"Kael." His voice was cold and flat, like he was addressing a business associate instead of his son.
The realization hit me. This was Kael's father. The old Alpha Hansen had mentioned.
Kael's response was just as cold. "Father."
The temperature dropped. I swear I could feel it. The air between them crackled with something ugly and old. This wasn't just tension. This was years of unresolved shit compressed into a single word.
The old Alpha's eyes flicked to me, then Elara. His expression didn't change, but I saw the assessment happening and the calculation running behind those sharp eyes.
"Your guests?" It wasn't really a question, more like a demand for explanation.
Kael's jaw tightened. "Lynette. Elara."
That was it. No elaboration. No context.
I stepped forward slightly, keeping my posture respectful but not submissive. "Good evening, sir."
His gaze locked on me, heavy and probing. Then he asked the question I'd been dreading. "Which pack are you from?"
My heart kicked against my ribs hard.
I opened my mouth, but Kael beat me to it. "She's a rogue." His voice was firm, almost protective. "No pack affiliation currently."
The old Alpha's eyebrows drew together, just a fraction, but I caught it. He didn't like that answer. Didn't trust it.
The silence stretched, uncomfortable and suffocating. Elara stood frozen beside me. I could feel her tension radiating off her in waves. She wanted to run. So did I. But running would make this worse.
Finally, the old Alpha spoke, his eyes never leaving mine. "I hope you know what you're doing."
He wasn't talking to me. He was talking to Kael.
The guard took that as his cue and started pushing the wheelchair forward, away from us. But just before they passed, the old Alpha looked at me one more time with a long, searching stare, like he was trying to figure out if I was a threat.
Then they were gone, disappearing down another path into the shadows.
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
Kael stood completely still with his shoulders locked and rigid, like he was holding himself together by force of will alone. I wanted to say something, anything, but what the hell do you say after that?
Elara shifted nervously. "Kael, are you okay?"
"Let's go." His voice was flat and empty.
He started walking faster than before. I exchanged a look with Elara. Her eyes were wide and worried. We followed without speaking. The only sound was our footsteps on gravel and the distant trickle of fountains.
My mind was racing. That encounter had been brief, but it told me everything I needed to know. Kael and his father were at war, a cold war where every word was a weapon and every silence was a statement. And somehow, I'd just walked into the middle of it.
Great. Just great.
We reached the edge of the estate where Kael's car sat waiting, sleek and black and expensive. He pulled out his keys without looking at us.
"He doesn't trust my judgment." The words came out quiet, almost like he was talking to himself.
I stopped and turned to face him. His expression was carefully blank, but I saw it. Just for a second, pain flickered in his eyes before he locked it down. He'd had a lot of practice hiding that pain.
"Kael," Elara started again.
"It's fine." He cut her off, not cruelly, just done with the conversation. "Get in. I'll take you home."
He opened the driver's side door and slid in without another word.
I looked at Elara. She looked back at me.
Neither of us knew what to say.
So we got in the car.