The house was modest, a typical human dwelling in Picria, and Alpha Caspian hardly spared it a glance as he followed the man of the house inside.
The air slled of cooked at and faintly of lavender-scented polish, a futile attempt to mask sothing underlying.
"Welco welco, alpha prince...Please sit."
Caspian moved with quiet authority, unbuttoning his jacket as he was invited to sit.
The furniture was sturdy but worn, and he sank into a chair with a controlled grace that seed almost out of place in the unremarkable room.
Across from him, Sally sat stiffly, trying to catch his gaze and when his gaze finslly landed on her, her posture exaggerated as she tried to show off the curve of her chest.
Her red-painted lips stretched into a grin that didn’t quite et her eyes, and her heavily powdered face glead under the light.
Caspian blinked resisting the urge to recoil.
Sally then twirled a strand of smooth, brown hair, her gaze fixed on him with an unsettling intensity.
"Would you care for a drink, Alpha Prince?" Robert asked, his voice low and ingratiating.
"No, thank you," Caspian replied curtly. His tone was polite, but distant.
Sally leaned closer, her chair creaking as she shifted toward him. "Are you sure? My father has the best wine in Picria." She fluttered her lashes, her tone trying for sweet but landing sowhere near cloying.
Caspian’s jaw tightened as he caught her movent from the corner of his eye. Her scent, a heady mix of synthetic perfu and desperation, made his wolf bristle beneath his skin.
He exhaled slowly, fighting the restless edge creeping into his mind.
"I don’t drink much," he said flatly, leaning back in his chair.
His red eyes swept over her, then shifted away as though she were barely worth noticing.
Sally smiled wider, ignoring the subtle rejection. She shifted even closer, her fingers brushing against his sleeve. "Your suit is so nice," she said, her voice lilting unnaturally. "Do all alphas dress this sharp?"
Her father cleared his throat but made no move to stop her. In fact, the slight tilt of his head suggested approval, as though urging her on.
Caspian glanced at her hand on his arm and frowned. His wolf stirred uncomfortably, its instincts rejecting her proximity.
Sothing about her, her eagerness, her overly sweet perfu, the artificiality of her every gesture, set his teeth on edge.
"Thank you," he said coldly, pulling his arm away and crossing it over his chest.
Sally didn’t take the hint. She leaned closer still, lowering her voice to what she must have thought was sultry. "You know, my mother says I’m a great cook. Maybe I could make sothing for you one day."
Caspian’s gaze flicked toward her mother, who had just entered the room with a tray of food.
The woman’s eyes darted nervously between her daughter and the alpha, her smile faltering as she placed the dishes on the dining table that could clearly be seen from the living room.
"Please, Alpha Caspian," the mother said quickly, gesturing to the food. "We’ve prepared a feast for you. I hope it’s to your liking."
Caspian sighed inwardly, his patience wearing thin. He was already certain of one thing—there was nothing here for him.
Sally’s antics, her father’s thinly veiled ambition, and the heavy, suffocating air of desperation in the room all grated against him.
He glanced at the food but didn’t move to touch it.
Then, His wolf stirred, his sense heightened but he didn’t understand whats happening so he relaxed but then his wolf stirred again, restless, unsettled.
There was a scent, faint but persistent, coming from sowhere in the house. It wasn’t perfu or food, but it tugged at sothing primal in him.
anwhile, Sally shifted even closer, practically leaning into his space. Her brown eyes glead with hunger—not for food, but for him.
All the etiquette lessons her mother had drilled into her seed to vanish as she reached out, placing her hand on his arm again.
"You must be so strong," she murmured, her voice breathy. "I bet no one ever tells you no."
Caspian’s frown deepened, and he straightened in his seat, pulling his arm away once more.
His alpha eyes locked onto her, and for the first ti that night, his voice carried the full weight of his authority.
"Miss," he said coolly, "I suggest you sit back."
The room fell silent. Sally blinked, her smile faltering for a fraction of a second before she forced it back.
Her father cleared his throat again, more awkwardly this ti.
Caspian’s gaze flicked toward the door, his mind already weighing whether to leave.
The scent—strange and subtle—still tugged at him, but it didn’t seem to belong to anyone in this room.
He glanced at Sally one last ti, her bright red lips curving into what she must have thought was a charming smile. She didn’t notice the way his expression hardened.
This visit was a waste of ti.
Reviews
All reviews (0)