Chapter 29 29
I didn’t want to say anything. I wanted to tell him it was none of his business and to go chew on his perfectly cooked steak. But I couldn’t just dismiss him like that, not with Mandy sitting right there, watching this strange interaction with wide, confused eyes. It would make everything even weirder.
So I kept it simple, formal. The way you’d state a fact to a stranger. “Alpha Hades and Luna Serena.”
I quickly took a bite of food, anything to keep my mouth occupied, and watched him from under my lashes. He paused. Just for a second, his fork hovering over his plate. It wasn’t a big reaction, but on him, it was like a seismic shift.
That carefully placed, general expression of mild disinterest cracked. I saw a flicker of… something. Recognition? Surprise? Something darker? I couldn’t even name it, it was gone so fast.
Then he said, his voice still calm, “I see. Are they doing fine?”
The question felt loaded. I straightened my spine. “Absolutely. They are.”
He just gave a slow, single nod and went back to his meal, but the air in the room had changed. It felt charged, like after a lightning strike.
Mandy, trying to bridge the sudden chasm of tension, leaned forward. “Do you know her parents, Uncle? I’m sure you must know her mother, at least. Luna Serena is pretty famous.”
He said nothing for a long moment, just chewing his food with deliberate slowness. Mandy’s hopeful smile began to wilt. She lowered her gaze to her plate, looking disappointed, maybe a little hurt by his silence.
Finally, he answered, his tone dismissive. “I don’t know them. And I can’t be more concerned about them.” He didn’t even look at her.
I felt the anger start as a slow simmer in my chest. How dare he say that in my presence?
And poor Mandy. She was just trying to make conversation.
Mandy must have felt the heat of my anger, because she quickly changed tactics.
“Um, Arielle!” she said, her voice too bright. “I got this really good wine I brought all the way from my pack. You should have a taste. It’s amazing! Give me a minute, I’ll go get it!” She didn’t wait for a response. She just pushed her chair back and practically fled the dining room, leaving me alone at the table with him.
The silence she left behind was thick enough to choke on.
He was the one to break it. His eyes lifted to mine, cool and assessing. “So,” he said, cutting straight to the heart of everything. “The boyfriend. What did he do to make you desperate enough to pull a stunt like that?”
I almost snapped. The gall of this man. “None of your business,” I said through gritted teeth.
“None of my business,” he repeated, as if tasting the phrase and finding it bland. He took a sip of water, watching me over the rim of the glass.
I felt backed into a corner. Mandy’s absence gave me a sliver of honesty. I lowered my voice, the words scraping out. “Okay. Fine. I used you. And I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” he said, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “You should be.” His tone was utterly disregardful, like he was commenting on the weather. “It was an awful kiss, by the way. With you.”
The words were a slap. I actually recoiled a little in my seat, my face burning. He’d just confirmed my worst fear—that my grand, defiant act had been pathetic, amateurish.
Then he asked, almost squinting. “But it seems like Mandy doesn't know what you did."
“Yes, she doesn’t know,” I shot back, my voice tight. “Mandy doesn’t know her best friend kissed her uncle. So let’s just forget it. Like you said, it was awful. No point in lingering on it.”
He dropped his spoon onto his plate with a sharp, final sound. The noise made me jump. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that froze the air in my lungs.
“But what if I can’t forget it?” he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. The question wasn’t teasing. It was consequential, heavy with an implication I couldn’t begin to unpack. “How will you handle that?”
I gulped. My mouth went dry. I was utterly, completely speechless. My mind scrambled, but came up with nothing.
How would I handle it? I had no idea.
The tense standoff was shattered by Mandy’s return. She bustled back in, holding a bottle of dark red wine aloft like a trophy. “Here it is! I told you it was good!”
She fumbled with a corkscrew, her movements a little frantic, and poured a generous amount into a glass for me. She then turned, about to pour some for her uncle.
He held up a hand, stopping her cold. “No,” he said, his voice stern, final. “Your pack makes the worst wine in the entire city. I wouldn’t use it to clean my boots.”
Mandy’s expression crumpled. All her cheerful energy drained away, leaving her looking small and chastised. He wasn’t finished. He muttered, more to himself but loud enough for us to hear, “Another one of your mother’s worst decisions, marrying into that.”
That was it. That was the last straw. How could he be so casually, cruelly judgmental? So dismissive of her family, her history?
I took a deliberate sip of the wine Mandy had poured for me. It was actually quite nice—fruity and deep. I looked right at her, forcing a warm smile. “It’s delicious, Mandy. Really. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
He just scoffed, a soft, derisive sound, more to himself than to us. I pointedly ignored him.
Mandy gave me a wobbly, grateful smile and raised her own glass. “To college!” she said, trying to recapture the mood.
“To college,” I echoed, clinking my glass against hers.
“I’m so happy we’ll be going to the same one,” she said, perking up a bit. “But… how are you going to manage? Coming all the way from your pack every day?”
“I’ll be fine,” I said automatically.
“Really?” She tilted her head. “But your pack was relocated, right? It’s farther out now.”
“Yes. That was twelve years ago,” I said, a flicker of the old, vague story coming to mind. “We… expanded. Needed more territory.” It was the simplified version I’d always been told.
From the head of the table, his voice cut in again. “Why did they relocate the pack?”
I looked at him, wary. “I just said. We expanded.”
“Expansion is one thing,” he said, his eyes sharp. “Uprooting an entire established pack, moving them to a new territory… that’s another. Was that the only reason? Or was your family… avoiding something?”
The question hung in the air. I understood what he was implying. He was digging, suggesting we’d run from something.
My spine straightened. “There’s nothing we’re afraid of that would warrant us to move our entire pack.”
He didn’t blink. “Did your parents tell you so?”