Evaline:
The mansion’s kitchen was large and bustling, the air warm with heat and spice. Pots clanged, knives chopped against cutting boards, and the staff moved with quick efficiency, all imrsed in their rhythm of preparing dinner.
But the instant River stepped in with trailing behind him, the entire kitchen froze.
It was like soone had pressed pause.
Every pair of eyes darted toward us, then imdiately lowered in respect as the air shifted with awareness. The cooks and maids bowed their heads, their movents stilling, even the sound of bubbling broth seed quieter.
"Alpha," several voices murmured together.
I wasn’t used to being the center of attention, but in that mont, I knew it wasn’t they were staring at... it was River, and then, briefly, . Confusion passed through their faces, but none of them dared to speak it aloud.
"You may all leave," River’s voice cut through the silence, low and firm. "Take a break. I’ll prepare dinner for my brothers, and..." his gaze flicked to for a brief second, making my breath catch, "...for Miss Evaline."
The kitchen staff blinked, stunned. I caught the tiny flicker of disbelief in their gazes, so darting quickly toward before returning to the floor. River cooking? That had to be unheard of. He was their Alpha, not soone who ever had to set foot near stoves and knives.
Still, none of them dared to question him.
"Yes, Alpha," the head chef murmured, bowing slightly.
River added, "Return in an hour to prepare dinner for the rest of the staff."
"Yes, Alpha."
Within monts, the kitchen cleared. The maids and cooks slipped out quietly, leaving behind only the lingering scent of herbs, sizzling oil, and River’s presence filling the space.
My palms pressed against the side of my jeans. The silence was heavy now, almost intimate, as if the entire mansion had vanished, leaving just the two of us in this cavernous kitchen.
River moved with the sa unhurried confidence he always carried. He slid his suit coat off his broad shoulders, his fingers working the fabric with precise care. For a second, I thought he was going to place it on one of the chairs.
Instead, his eyes lifted... directly to .
I froze.
Before I could process, he crossed the short distance between us, and in one fluid motion, draped his coat over my shoulders.
My breath hitched.
The fabric was warm, carrying his clean, familiar scent that seed to seep straight into . It was overwhelming in the best, most terrifying way.
"Sit," he instructed in a calm voice, as if nothing unusual had just happened. As if lending his coat was sothing he had done countless tis before.
With my heart hamring in my chest, I obeyed, sliding onto one of the high chairs at the counter. My legs swung slightly from the height, a nervous habit I didn’t manage to control.
He turned back to the counter, rolling the sleeves of his crisp white shirt with practiced ease. The fabric stretched against his forearms, and my eyes betrayed ... they stayed glued to the ridges of his veins, the strength beneath his skin.
I swallowed hard.
Then, almost lazily, he loosened his tie, pulling it from his collar and without glancing, handed it toward .
For a second, I blinked at it, not understanding. Then, hesitantly, I reached out, my fingers brushing the soft silk. It felt like an exchange far too intimate for words.
He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt next, exposing the faint line of his collarbone, the barest glimpse of skin. My cheeks were burning at this point.
It almost felt like he was... teasing .
Seducing .
And Moon Goddess help , it was working.
My eyes refused to leave him. I watched every move as he pulled out pots and pans with sure, confident hands, as if he had spent his whole life in kitchens rather than boardrooms or packhouses. He moved gracefully, slicing vegetables with precision, stirring oils and spices into pans, the air filling quickly with rich aromas that made my stomach tighten with hunger.
He didn’t look at once, but I sohow knew that he was very aware of my gaze burning into him.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was thick with sothing else, sothing that made my pulse quicken and my chest tighten.
Minutes slipped by, and twenty minutes later, the kitchen was rich with the scent of seared at, garlic, onions, herbs blending together. My mouth watered just breathing it in.
Then, his voice broke the quiet.
"Call Oscar and Draven," he said simply, as he dropped diced vegetables into the pan. "Ask how long before they arrive."
"Oh," I blinked, scrambling. "I... I left my phone in my room."
I slid off the chair, ready to dart upstairs. But before I could take more than a step, he finally lifted his head and looked at .
"Where are you going?"
His voice stopped mid-motion. I turned, chewing my lip. "To get my phone."
He surprised again.
Instead of saying anything, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his phone. With one hand, he extended it toward . "Use mine."
I froze.
"Uh..." My hand hesitated before taking the device. His phone was sleek, expensive, and heavy in my palm. Sothing about holding it felt... personal, almost more so than using my own. "It’s locked."
"1227," he said smoothly, without hesitation.
My fingers tapped in the digits one by one. 1. 2. 2... and then 7.
The password sounded nothing special at first, but by the ti my finger tapped on 7, realization struck like lightning.
My chest stuttered, breath catching.
December 27th.
The day our mate bond ignited.
I looked up, wide-eyed, only to find him watching . He wasn’t smirking, not really. But there was a shift in his expression, sothing satisfied, sothing darkly pleased that I had figured it out. Like he had been waiting for to notice.
Heat blood through , twisting low in my stomach.
I didn’t dare say anything, though the air between us humd with the unspoken weight of it.
My fingers trembled slightly as I scrolled to the contacts and tapped Draven’s na.
The phone rang once, twice, and then connected.
"River?" Draven’s familiar voice answered on the other end.
"Uh... it’s ," I said softly before I could stop myself.
There was silence. A sharp inhale.
"Eva?" His voice shifted instantly, stunned.
"Yes," I murmured, gripping the phone tighter.
"Why are you calling from River’s phone?" He sounded confused, and clearly surprised.
I licked my lips, my gaze darting to River, who was calmly stirring his pan like he wasn’t listening to every word. "He... he asked to. He wants to know how long it’ll be before you and Oscar are back at the mansion."
There was another pause. I could almost hear the wheels turning in Draven’s head on the other end.
Finally, his voice ca through again. "We are already on the way. Ten minutes, maybe less."
I nodded to myself. "Okay... I’ll tell him."
I hung up, my heart pounding with River’s phone still warm in my hand.
And when I looked up, he was watching again.
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