Rise of the Underdogs: KADEN

Meet the Parents

“She’s coming here?” Mom asked, her brown eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and hope. It was clear she could barely contain herself. “Oh! Oh my. Rowan! Rowan, honey, our baby is bringing his Mate home to meet his parents!”

My father, sitting comfortably in his office chair, raised an eyebrow in quiet amusement. “Cece, he’s not a baby,” he pointed out, his tone gentle but firm.

Relief mingled with exasperation as I finally felt seen. “Thank you, Dad,” I replied, wishing more people would realise I was no longer a child, but someone who’d come into his own over time.

Dad’s smirk suggested I might have spoken too soon. “Don’t thank me yet, kiddo. I’m not stopping your mother from pulling out the baby book.”

The urge to slap my forehead was strong, but I knew better than to act on it. If I did, Mom would surely misinterpret the gesture, launching into her trademark lecture mode. A state that required a miracle to switch off once activated. Dad, on the other hand, would find no end of amusement in my predicament, likely laughing his head off at my expense. His usual response would be to retreat to the study, leaving Mom free rein to fuss over her youngest pup as she pleased.

Being the youngest son in a royal family came with its own set of challenges. Here, anything and everything could be twisted and used against you. Family interactions resembled a court of law, where sharp wit, playful banter, and affectionate insults served as the love language. Parental inquisitions were thorough, covering every topic from the circumstances of your birth to your most current activities.

Crap. Was I really about to bring my Mate into this circus of a family gathering?

The thought alone made my stomach twist with a mix of dread and resignation. There was no telling how things would unfold, with Mom’s excitement bubbling over and Dad’s sarcasm already sharpening in anticipation. This was the kind of situation that could go sideways in a heartbeat, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I was dooming her to a front-row seat at the most chaotic family show in the kingdom.

‘Could be worse. She could invite all your friends, your brother, and the whole extended family.’ Malachite reasoned, his voice threading into my thoughts with dry humour. There was a strange comfort in his sarcasm, a reminder that no matter how disastrous things might get, it could always be escalated. Spectacularly so.

I blinked, taking a moment to genuinely consider Malachite’s wry observation. Suddenly, the prospect of a family dinner—where the primary topic of conversation would likely be the bond and whether or not I was treating her well—seemed strangely appealing by comparison. Having it put in perspective like that, it didn’t seem quite as daunting. I tried to keep things light, appealing to Mom’s practicality in hopes of diffusing her enthusiasm. “Mom, please. It’s just a study and brainstorming session. I’m helping her with homework. She’s helping me not plot Dreson’s downfall.”

Dad’s snarky tone drifted over from his chair, cutting through the room’s tension with his usual dry humour. “Who put you in charge of a ceremony like that?” he asked, a smirk in his voice. He always seemed to understand my wit, perhaps because he was the origin of it. After all, both Dreson and I had inherited our ‘Sarcasm as a Second Language’ degrees straight from him.

“Leif,” I replied, smirking at him.

“That boy’s something else. Powerful, yet soft,” Dad mused, obviously talking about my brother-in-law. “Do they know yet that your complaining was only to amuse yourself?”

Double crap! He knew about that?!

“N-no, they don’t,” I said, fully aware that my entire body now probably resembled a traffic cone. Embarrassment was not a good colour on me. At all.

Momma's laughter rang out, light, airy, and carrying that knowing edge only a parent could possess. “Honey, the only one who didn’t see clean through you was Leif. Even Dreson knew that his little brother was being annoying on purpose.” Her words floated in the air, a gentle but undeniable reminder that nothing truly escaped her notice, not even my best attempts at subtlety or mischief.

Fantastic. Apparently, I was the family’s source of amusement—without ever actually telling a lie. I hadn’t even tried to deceive anyone, and yet, here I was. The butt of the joke. It was almost impressive, if I ignored how mortifying it felt in the moment.

‘Wait for it…’

I was ready to ask Chite what he meant, but then it clicked. An omission is still a lie. A carefully chosen silence over speaking is still a lie. A half-truth left hanging? A lie wrapped in pretty paper. In the eyes of my family, and perhaps in reality, it still counted as a deception. I was guilty by omission, and they all knew it.

Dad must have seen my reaction because he got up and crossed the floor in as few as five strides. Cupping my chin in one pale, freckled hand, he ran the other over my curly mahogany brown hair. “Kaden, breathe. In. Hold. And out. Good. You’re okay, son. You’re safe. I see your thoughts written all over your face, so I know you’re worried about the omission. What you did was in good fun. It was not meant to harm, and that is the most important thing to remember. Your omission was not made in mockery or intentional insult. We know that. Your brother knows that.”

“Dad, I…”

“Have you ever, to date, thought of using your power to harm others?” He asked, throwing a curveball into my panic. When I shook my head, he smiled gently. “Then understand that we don’t blame you for having fun at your brother and brother-in-law’s expense. Dre enjoys the distraction, so keep at it.”

I let out a dry, mewling laugh. “So, I’m good?”

“You were never not good, K. Your brother’s adore the ground you walk on, so don’t let a little teasing fun damage that trust you have in each other.” Dad replied, his tone soft and gentle.

A gentle knock on the door pulled our attention back to the task at hand. Mom opened the door, her face a mask of calm I knew she didn’t actually feel. “Yes?”

“My Queen,” Greg’s voice shattered the tension with a crisp clarity. “His Lordship’s Mate, Lady Akita Stone, has arrived and Miss Monica is working on tonight’s dinner. She opted for the young Master’s favourite of angel hair spaghetti bolognaise with freshly-baked, pull-apart garlic-cheese bread paired with an aged Pinot Grigio. Dessert is Tres Leche cake topped with creamy milk icing and mixed berries paired with Turkish coffee.”

“Excellent,” Dad called from the desk as he finished off the paperwork and sealed it inside the wall safe. “Please pass our thanks to the rest of the staff. After supper, you may all retire for the evening.”

“As you wish, my King.” Greg replied. “Shall I move the young lady from the foyer to the dining hall?”

I inhaled, catching another scent beyond akita’s smoke and honey. It was subtle, but strong. Another sniff, then I opened my mind to the other presence. ‘Jas?’

‘The one and only… I hope. She didn’t want to come alone for the first meet, and I’m technically her parental figure until she’s eighteen.’ He said.

‘That’s perfectly fine. I hope you brought your appetite.’ I looked at my parents, grinning.

“Your Mate stated she would not leave her eldest brother due to… issues with her other brothers at home.” Greg answered, his posture relaxed but formal.

I moved past him, clapping his shoulder gently. “Thank you for seeing them safely here. I’ll drive them home. Jasper, her brother, is the Gamma of Shadow Storm.”

“Absolutely, Sire. I do hope your dinner goes well. Shall I put brandy on ice for you, King Rowan?”

Dad hummed for a moment. Then, “Cece and I will have an opportunity to talk to Miss Stone’s guardian while she and Kaden study, so yes. Brandy on ice will be fine.”

Once we got to the front hall, I grabbed Akita’s hand. Brushing my thumb over her knuckles, I kissed them lightly. Letting it go, I straightened. “Are you hungry?”

Jasper lifted a brow, unaccustomed to my formality. “This is new.”

“His Lordship changes how he speaks dependant completely on the other party privy to the conversation, Sir.” Greg said, humoured. “May I take your coat, Gamma? My Lady?”

Slipping out of the white furs, both Jasper and Akita handed over their jackets. Mom stepped forward, regal and ready to receive our company. “So, you’re the beauty that hooked her claws into my baby? Not that I mind. Kaden, you didn’t tell me she was so gorgeous! You dreadful boy!”

“Mom!”

Jasper snickered, “Gotta love that family drama, huh, K?”

As we entered the dining room, I seamlessly adopted my royal persona, leaving behind the streetwise sarcasm in favour of an impeccably polished gentleman’s composure. The transformation was so complete that I, along with Malachite, found genuine amusement in Jasper’s visible confusion. He was clearly unsure how to react to this sudden change in my mannerisms.

The meal itself was presented with the utmost elegance. Dinner arrived on delicate fine China, each plate topped with a gleaming silver bell-dome. A maid, attentive yet unobtrusive, served each course with poise, while another moved gracefully through the room, silently filling our glasses halfway with a sweet wine. The quiet choreography of the staff underscored the formality of the occasion, setting the tone for an evening marked by tradition and decorum.

“This is… wow. This is good,” Akita declared as she ate. “So, um… Kaden, help!”

I nodded, lifting my wine to my lips for a taste before speaking. “Mother, Father, this is my Mate, Akita Stone. Her legal guardian is this man: Lord Gamma Jasper Stone. The eldest brother of her family. Jasper, these are my parents, King Rowan and Queen Celestia Cage of the Druid kingdom.”

“A pleasure, your Majesties.”

Dad shook his head, “The pleasure is ours, Gamma. Welcome to our home.”