The Alpha I Shouldn't Want

Chapter Four — Broken Goblet

° AUTHOR'S POV °

That night, the Dragonstone pack held a welcome feast in her honor. Long tables. Firelight. Laughter spilling across the courtyard like it hadn't in years.

She should have enjoyed it.

Instead she found herself watching Valerian across the room, seated at the head table, composed and unreadable, a goblet of wine untouched at his elbow.

Beside her, Kaiden nudged her ribs. "You're doing the staring thing again."

"I'm not staring."

"You're staring so hard I'm surprised he hasn't caught fire."

"Shut up."

He grinned, unbothered, and turned back to his food. But Kieran, across the table, was watching her with that same too-careful expression from breakfast. Like he was assembling a puzzle and didn't like the picture forming.

The music shifted. Someone called for dancing. Pack members rose from the long tables, pairing off, laughter rising over the fire's crackle.

A stranger approached her before she'd even stood.

Tall. Dark-haired. A visiting Alpha's son, she'd later learn, here to negotiate a border agreement with Valerian on his father's behalf.

"Lorianna, is it?" He extended a hand. "I've heard stories. May I have this dance?"

She hesitated only a second before taking his hand. It felt good, almost, to be looked at like an ordinary woman instead of a puzzle nobody would explain.

They danced.

He was charming. Funny in a practiced sort of way. His hand rested politely at her waist, nothing improper, nothing that should have mattered.

Across the courtyard, Valerian's goblet cracked in his gloved fist.

Nobody noticed except Kieran, who watched his father's knuckles whiten around the shattered glass with quiet, growing understanding.

Nobody else noticed except Kaiden, who followed his brother's gaze and went very still.

And nobody noticed except Valerian himself, who set the broken goblet down with excruciating care, rose from the table without a word, and walked out into the dark before the song had even ended.

Lorianna caught the movement from the corner of her eye.

She missed a step.

The stranger laughed, mistaking it for nerves, and pulled her closer to steady her.

She barely felt it.

All she could think, as she watched the empty doorway where Valerian had disappeared, was that she had never once seen him leave a room without saying goodnight.

Not in nine years.

Not until tonight.

°°°

She found him an hour later on the same balcony where, unknown to her, he'd stood the night before watching her window.

He didn't turn when she approached.

"You left the feast."

"I had matters to attend to."

"You broke a goblet with your bare hand."

Silence.

"Valerian."

"I don't want to discuss it."

"You never want to discuss it. That's becoming the problem."

He finally turned. In the moonlight, his eyes looked less gold than molten, something barely contained behind them.

"Did you enjoy your dance?"

The question caught her off guard. There was an edge to it she didn't recognize. Something almost jealous, if she let herself believe an Alpha like Valerian could ever be jealous of anyone. Especially not of her.

"It was just a dance."

"I'm sure."

"Are you angry?"

"No why would I be angry."

"You sound angry."

"I'm not angry, Lorianna." His voice dropped, rough at the edges. "I am something considerably more complicated than angry, and I would very much appreciate it if you did not ask me to name it tonight."

She stared at him.

For the first time since she'd come home, she saw it clearly — not distance, not avoidance, but restraint. A man holding something back with both hands, gloved hands, like whatever he was containing might tear through the leather if he let go for even a second.

"What are you hiding from me?" she whispered.

He looked at her for a long moment. Long enough that she thought, finally, he might answer.

Then he shook his head.

"Goodnight, Lorianna."

He left her alone on the balcony, the broken goblet still sitting untouched on the table inside, moonlight pooling silver across the floor where his gloved hand had gripped the stone railing hard enough to leave four faint white cracks behind.

#Vote#