Chapter 140 The Dinner Game
Briar's POV
"What did I miss?" Maya asked.
Before anyone could answer, Elara's grip on my hand tightened almost painfully. She leaned close, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Are you hungry, dear? Should I have the staff bring something light before dinner?"
I found myself turning toward Oscar with what must have looked like a plea for rescue. I couldn't bring myself to look directly at Lucian, though I felt his gaze burning into me.
"The tea service should be ready," Elara continued, gesturing toward one of the hovering staff members. "Bring the refreshments to the sitting room immediately."
We moved as a group toward the adjacent room. Elara settled into her chair with a sigh.
"You know, Oscar has never brought a young lady home before," she announced, her amber eyes gleaming. "Not once in all these years. I was beginning to think he'd sworn off women entirely."
"Mother," Oscar said, his voice carrying a note of long-suffering patience. "The tea."
When Elara excused herself to personally oversee the tea preparation, the remaining staff member gestured us toward the formal seating area. Maya and Lucian were directed to one side of the low table, while Oscar and I were positioned directly across from them.
Which meant I was sitting directly opposite Lucian.
I kept my gaze fixed on the delicate porcelain teacups being arranged before us, but I could feel his attention like a physical touch. When he finally spoke, his voice cut through the polite silence with deliberate precision.
"Why are you here, Briar?"
I forced myself to look up, meeting his gaze. His expression was carefully neutral.
"Oscar invited me," I said, keeping my voice steady.
One of the staff members approached with a tray of desserts, setting a delicate plate of pastries before me. I'd barely registered their presence when Lucian gestured sharply.
"Take that away. Bring her pistachios instead. Shelled."
This was a challenge, a reminder of intimacies we'd shared, thrown in my face like proof of his claim.
I reached across the table deliberately, pulling my original dessert plate back with more force than necessary. "Don't touch my things," I said, my voice low and hard.
Lucian's hand tightened around his teacup, his knuckles going white, but he said nothing. I ate every bite of those pastries with mechanical precision.
The sound of shuffling footsteps announced a new arrival. Oscar rose immediately, moving to support an elderly man who entered with slow dignity. Silver hair crowned a face lined with decades of authority, and his amber eyes held sharp intelligence.
Harold Castellan. Oscar's father and former Alpha.
Both Lucian and I stood automatically. Two small children trailed behind Harold, their earlier energy subdued.
"Just returned from the gallery," Harold said, his voice carrying the rasp of age but losing none of its command. "The new exhibition was quite remarkable."
Elara emerged from wherever she'd been overseeing preparations, and the transformation in her demeanor was startling. Replaced by a woman of gentle refinement who moved to Harold's side with practiced care.
"You shouldn't stay out so late," she chided softly, taking his arm. "The evening air isn't good for you."
I blinked, disoriented by the complete personality shift.
Two more men arrived—both Castellans, different energy. The first: bruised jaw, split lip, thunderous expression. He barely acknowledged Maya. The second: gaunt, silent, sitting beside Oscar. Brother tension palpable.
Oscar wanted me to see the Castellan cracks.
At dinner, Maya placed fish on Lucian's plate, murmuring low. He ignored it, reaching for water with deliberate indifference.
I told myself I didn't care.
Then a perfectly shelled shrimp appeared on my plate.
"The chef here is exceptional," Oscar said casually.
"Thank you," I said, my voice tight. "But I can manage myself."
The pieces were falling into place with uncomfortable clarity. This entire evening was orchestrated. People had watched my interview, seen my face broadcast across screens, and this dinner was my formal introduction to the inner circle of Seattle's pack politics.
Oscar was offering me access, connections to people who held real power. It was generous and strategic in equal measure.
I watched Lucian deflect Harold's polite questions about Sterling Pharmaceuticals with practiced ease, and my mind cataloged his possible motivations. He was here to help Maya establish connections. He was representing Sterling's interests. He wanted me to benefit from this exposure. And he was using this situation to provoke me.
The complexity of it made my head ache. I was grateful I hadn't positioned myself as his enemy.
When the conversation turned toward medical innovations, Lucian smoothly redirected the topic toward botanical applications, creating an opening I recognized immediately. He was giving me a platform to impress Harold.
I took the opportunity, outlining Vance Botanicals' approach to accessible medicine and our plans for international expansion. Harold listened with genuine interest, his sharp eyes assessing me.
"The greatest merchants serve their people and nation," Harold said finally, his approval evident in the slight nod he gave. "Your vision is admirable, Miss Vance."
We didn't push further, both understanding that this first meeting was about establishing respect rather than securing commitments. But the foundation was laid.
After dinner, Harold retired upstairs with Elara's assistance. Oscar leaned close to Maya, whispering something before he excused himself. One of his brothers followed shortly after, and the children began clamoring for their uncle's attention.
A staff member approached, gesturing toward a private room off the main hall. "If you'd like to rest while waiting, there's a sitting room prepared."
The room was beautiful but stifling, the fire burning too hot. I pushed open the glass doors leading to the terrace, stepping out into the cold night air. The gardens stretched below, small lights winding through the paths like captured stars, and I gripped the stone railing.
I heard him before I saw him, and then Lucian was standing beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"Thank you," I said finally, the words coming out stiff but sincere. "For tonight. For the introductions."
I kept my gaze fixed on the garden below, unwilling to turn and face him.
"If you want to thank me," Lucian said, his voice carrying a hint of dark amusement, "I'd prefer something more tangible."
I didn't respond. The silence stretched between us.
Then I felt him move, felt the solid warmth of his chest against my back as he leaned forward, his head coming to rest against the curve of my shoulder. His arms came down on either side of mine, hands covering my cold fingers where they gripped the railing, and suddenly the winter air couldn't touch me anymore.
"I'm cold," he murmured against my neck, his breath warm against my skin. "Let me stay like this, just for a moment."
I stood frozen, every muscle locked with the effort of not pushing him away, of not leaning back into the embrace that felt too much like coming home.
"Are you angry?" he asked, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "About Maya?"
"Why would I be angry?" I managed.
"Because you think I'm playing games." He shifted slightly, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "But I didn't eat what she gave me. Did you notice that?"
I had noticed. I'd cataloged every moment of his careful indifference to Maya's attentions, even as I'd told myself it didn't matter.
"Maya and I are using each other," Lucian continued, his voice dropping lower. "Mutual benefit, nothing more. But you and Oscar..." His hands tightened over mine. "You ate the shrimp he peeled for you."