The Fake Saint's Alpha(s) (BL) Chapter 2. Dinner and alpha portraits

AT THE SA TI

MICHAEL

The bath left my skin raw, the oils clinging faintly to as the maids wrapped in a dark robe. I felt like a vessel being prepared, not a man with choices. My chest was still tight, my mind a storm.

"Co." One of the maids said softly, not unkind but firm. Their hands guided once again, this ti through another corridor, the scent of incense growing richer the further we went.

At the end of the hall, heavy doors opened to a dining chamber lit by golden light, the long table laid with more food than I’d ever seen in one place. Platters of roasted ats, bowls of fruits glistening with dew, fresh bread still steaming. My stomach twisted, not with fear this ti, but with hunger I hadn’t realized was gnawing at . The maids gestured for to sit at the far end. And there she was. Selene. Seated at the head, posture elegant, silver eyes calm, watching like she was studying more than just a man.

"Eat." She said simply.

I hesitated, my fists tight in my lap, but the sll broke . Slowly, I reached out, tearing bread, biting into it. One bite beca another. Then at. Then fruit. My hands moved faster than I could think, my hunger swallowing my hesitation. The world around blurred until all I knew was the taste, the relief, the simple act of filling myself. When I finally looked up, breath uneven, Selene’s lips were curved not in cruelty this ti, but in sothing almost amused.

"

You eat like a wolf denied a al for too long." She murmured, tilting her head slightly. "I did not expect such appetite... for soone who resisted so fiercely."

Heat rushed to my face, sha sparking in my chest.

"I... I didn’t an-"I started.

She raised a hand, silencing gently.

"No. Do not apologize. Hunger is honesty, Michael Stoneheart. Appetite does not lie. It reveals what you need most, even when your words fight against it."She said.

Her voice softened just a fraction, enough to make my stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with the food.

"Good. I prefer truth to hollow obedience."She added.

I swallowed hard, the taste of salt and fire still lingering on my tongue. And for the first ti since she pointed at in the courtyard, I wondered if Selene’s chains ca not only from force... but from the way she saw through , even in sothing as simple as the way I ate. I tore into another piece of bread, trying not to think about the way her eyes tracked . The food was too good, too plentiful, and every ti I told myself to slow down, my hands betrayed . Selene leaned back in her chair, silver eyes glinting with amusent.

"You’re hungrier than I thought. Did no one feed you properly in that broken house of yours?"She asked.

I froze, heat crawling up my neck.

"I... I managed."I muttered, rather nervously.

"Managed." She repeated, rolling the word on her tongue like it was both pitiful and endearing. "You an starved. Look at you devouring everything like it might vanish if you blink."

I glared at her, though my mouth was full.

"You’re the one who told to eat."I said.

Her lips curved in a faint smile.

"And you obeyed so eagerly. If only you listened that quickly to all my commands."She added.

I set my bread down, scowling.

"I didn’t do it for you."I frowned.

"Mm." She tapped one finger against the table, her gaze never leaving . "You say that... but here you are, sitting at my table, eating my food, ward by my fire. Tell , Michael, how much longer will you keep lying to yourself?"

My chest tightened.

"I’m not lying."I said.

"Of course not." Her smile widened, just a shade crueler. "You’re just denying."

I swallowed hard, reaching for the fruit just to give my hands sothing to do. She chuckled softly, the sound low and maddening.

"You’re endearing when you’re flustered." Selene said, tilting her head. "I expected more snarling, more fire. But give you a loaf of bread and so at, and suddenly you’re soft around the edges."

I shot her a sharp look, cheeks burning.

"I’m not soft."I frowned.

Her eyes glittered.

"No... but you could be. With the right hands."She said.

The words made my stomach twist, and for a mont I forgot the food, forgot the table, forgot the maids standing silent along the walls. Her voice seed to echo deeper than sound, curling into in ways I hated.

"You enjoy this, don’t you?"I asked.

"Very much." She admitted without hesitation, her smile slow and deliberate. "Watching you fight yourself while your body betrays you. Appetite, hunger, need... they always betray a man sooner than pride."

I pushed my plate away, forcing myself to stop.

"I’m not playing your ga."I said.

"Oh, Michael." She purred, leaning forward slightly, her silver eyes catching the firelight. "You already are."

By the ti I forced myself to stop eating, the ache in my stomach was replaced by another an uneasy weight sitting lower, heavier. Selene hadn’t looked away once, and her faint smile lingered like she was enjoying a private joke at my expense.

"Co." She said at last, rising from her chair with the grace of soone who never doubted she would be obeyed.

The maids fell in behind us, silent as shadows, but it was her presence I felt most sharply. Even when she walked ahead, her aura seed to tug at , dragging along whether I wanted to follow or not. She led through another corridor, darker this ti, the air cooler, quieter. The light dimd until only lanterns lined the walls, their glow soft and flickering. When the double doors opened, I froze. The room was enormous, but not empty. Every wall was lined with portraits. Dozens of them.

n and won in ceremonial garb, painted in oils so lifelike I felt their eyes following as I stepped inside. Saints. Alphas. Ogas. People chosen before . Each canvas bore the sa strange silver glow painted in their eyes, the sa faint mark of the Moon Goddess on their chests. So looked serene. Others looked furious. A few looked broken. I swallowed hard, my voice low.

"Who are they?"I asked.

Selene moved to stand beside , her hand lifting slowly to gesture toward the nearest painting a woman with pale hair and a soft, unreadable smile.

"Every chosen who carried the Moon Goddess cub." She said calmly. "Saints. Ogas. History written on canvas."

I turned, scanning the walls. The sheer number of them made my skin crawl.

"So many..."I muttered.

Her lips curved faintly.

"Did you think you were the first?"Selene asked.

My chest tightened.

"I never thought I’d be anyone."I said.

Selene chuckled softly, stepping closer, her voice dropping near my ear.

"And yet here you are. The fake saint. The orphan. The one every eye is already watching."She added.

I stiffened, staring at the painted faces. So seed to sneer at . So pitied. So looked empty, like their souls had already been drained before the artist’s brush ever touched canvas.

"Why show this?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady.

She studied for a long mont before answering, her silver gaze almost gentle.

"Because I want you to understand, Michael Stoneheart. Every one of them thought they could resist. And yet... here they hang. Proof of duty fulfilled."She said.

I turned back to her sharply.

"And ? Will I end up on your wall too?"I asked.

Her smile deepened, sharp and teasing.

"If you survive it."She said.

The words sank into like ice, but before I could reply, she stepped ahead, her robes brushing against as she passed.

"Co." She said again, her tone lighter this ti, almost playful. "There’s still more I want to show you."

She took then to alphas portrait room maid to help with the ’duty’. The portraits lood around , each pair of painted eyes heavy with expectation, as if they were waiting for to break. Selene’s voice slid through the silence like silk over a blade.

"Now." She said, her hand sweeping elegantly toward the rows of alphas painted in all their cruel glory. "Choose three, Michael. Three who will stand with you, claim you, fulfill the duty. Do it."

I swallowed hard, staring at them all, but one face stopped cold. Dark eyes. Carved features. A presence so sharp even in paint it felt like it could cut open. My body reacted before my mind did. A low, guttural growl tore from my chest, raw and furious, echoing through the vast chamber. Selene’s silver eyes widened not with shock, but with amusent. She tilted her head, smiling faintly like a cat toying with a cornered mouse.

"Mmm." She humd, stepping closer to the portrait I hated, her voice a whisper of delight. "Interesting."

"That one." I snarled, my fists curling at my sides. "His pack... his army... they’re the ones who destroyed my family. The reason I’m standing here at all. I’ll never accept him. Never."

Selene turned her silver gaze on , her expression radiant with wicked satisfaction.

"Oh, Michael." She breathed, almost laughing. "You think your growl spares you? No." She lifted her hand and tapped the fra of the very portrait I despised. "It condemns you. He is the first."

My heart lurched, heat and fury boiling in my chest.

"You can’t-!"I growled.

Her smile cut off, sharp and rciless.

"I can. And I will. Your hatred makes the bond stronger. Fire needs fuel... and what is hatred if not the richest fuel of all?"She smirked.

I shook my head, rage trembling in my voice.

"You’re cruel."I said.

"Cruel?" She laughed softly, stepping closer, her presence burning against ."No. I am precise. The Moon Goddess wants power, Michael Stoneheart, not comfort. You’ll learn that soon enough."

Her hand lingered on the portrait, her silver eyes glinting as she leaned close, teasing, victorious.

"So, he is chosen. Whether you want him or not. Now" She gestured toward the others. "Choose your next two."