CLAIMED BY MY STEPBROTHER

Family Dinner

Dinner was called at seven precisely. I arrived downstairs at six fifty-five. Showing up late on the first day felt like a mistake I couldn't undo.

The dining room was intimidating. A table long enough to seat twelve had only four places set at one end. Elise was already moving between the kitchen and the table. Before she could finish, I grabbed the bread basket and started passing plates without being asked. It seemed strange not to help. My mother raised me to contribute. Old habits didn't care that we now lived in a house with staff.

"You don't have to do that, Max," Elise said, half-amused, as she gently took the basket from my hands.

"Habit," I replied. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize for good manners." Damian's voice came from the hall. He took his seat at the head of the table, mom to his right, and gestured for me to sit across from the last empty chair. "Lucian will be down."

He wasn't wrong. Lucian arrived four minutes later, dropped into his seat silently, and picked up his fork as if we weren't there.

Damian let the first few minutes pass in silence. Plates filled up, wine was poured, and the quiet clink of cutlery filled the air. Then he set his fork down and folded his hands.

"Before we eat properly, I want to say something. Now that we're one household, there are a few things I'd like everyone to understand." He looked between Mom and me, then pointedly at Lucian. "Respect in this house isn't optional. Whatever's happened between us in the past stays in the past. Clara and Max are family now, and I expect you to treat them that way. No exceptions."

"Understood," Mom said warmly, glancing at me.

I nodded in agreement. "Understood."

Lucian didn't look up from his plate. "Can we eat now?"

Damian's mouth tightened, but he let it go, gesturing for everyone to start. The food was excellent, and for a few minutes, it almost felt normal — four people having dinner — if you ignored the fact that one of them was radiating cold like an open freezer.

"So, Max." Damian turned to me between bites. His warmth felt genuine, the kind that made it clear where Lucian didn't get his personality. "Tell me about school. Clara mentioned international business?"

"Yeah." I set my fork down, glad for a topic that didn't involve the tension across the table. "I just finished my second year. I want to work in trade policy eventually — how regulations shift between countries, how companies change. It's more interesting than it sounds."

"It sounds interesting enough." He smiled. "You know, that's not far off from what Lucian studies. Business with an economics focus. You two might actually end up sharing a class or two."

I noticed it before he even finished the sentence — the shift in Lucian's jaw, the fork slowing halfway to his mouth.

"Which reminds me," Damian continued, and I felt the air in the room change a moment before I understood why. "Max, you'll be transferring to Lucian's school starting Monday. Same campus, similar track — it makes sense for you to be there instead of commuting across the city."

"Oh—" I blinked. Nobody had mentioned this to me. "Okay. That's—sure, that works."

"And you'll go together," Damian added, as if it were the simplest arrangement. "Lucian has a car. There's no reason for you to take the train every morning when he's already driving that way."

The room fell silent.

Lucian set his fork down sharply.

"No."

"Lucian—"

"No." He stood up so quickly that his chair scraped against the floor. Then he slammed his palm flat on the table, rattling every glass. "I'm not his ride. I'm not his babysitter. I didn't ask for a brother, and I sure as hell didn't ask to drive one to school like he's my responsibility."

"Lucian, sit down."

"You don't get to just decide this." His voice rose, and something heavy filled the air, like the room itself had started holding its breath. "You married her. Fine. That's your mess. But you can't hand me a stranger and call it family and expect me to just—"

The pressure broke.

It hit like a drop in air pressure before a storm. A weight pressed down on every nerve. My knees buckled before I understood what was happening. I was on the floor, one hand braced against the table leg, gasping as if the air itself had turned thick. Beside me, Mom collapsed too, a small sound escaping her as her knees hit the marble.

Somewhere at the edge of my vision, I saw Elise and two other staff reaching for something at their collars thin black masks, fitted quickly and expertly, like they had done this many times before. Like they had been waiting for it.

I had never felt an Alpha's aura before. Not until it crushed the air out of my lungs and forced my body toward the floor as if gravity had tripled.

Through the haze, I heard him. Still snarling and angry, his voice held something not entirely human anymore a low growl mixed with every word, like two throats were speaking at once.

"He is not—" Lucian's voice cracked under the weight of his emotions, "—my problem."

"Enough."

Damian's voice hit differently. Heavier and older. The moment he spoke, the air seemed to fold in on itself. I felt Lucian's pressure buckle under something stronger, something that didn't ask, only demanded. My chest loosened just enough for a full breath. Beside me, Mom gasped like she had been underwater.

I looked up just in time to see it Damian on his feet now, his eyes gone from warm brown to burning amber. For a moment, dressed in his tailored shirt with his wine glass still on the table, he didn't look like a businessman at all. He looked like something fierce.

Lucian's body went rigid. His jaw tightened. Slowly, and visibly fighting it, he pulled his aura back in until the pressure lifted off my chest. I could finally breathe again without feeling like I was drowning.

The silence that followed was worse than the noise.

Damian's amber eyes faded back to brown. He didn't sit down. He didn't apologize either. He just looked at his son, tired disappointment etched on his face. "Go cool off."

Lucian didn't reply. He glanced down at me once an unreadable second, no apology in it then turned and walked out of the dining room without a word. A moment later, I heard the front door open and slam shut, hard enough that I felt it in my chest even after his aura was gone.

Mom was still shaking beside me. I put an arm around her and helped her back into her chair, my own hands shaking a bit as well.

Damian sighed and sat back down as if nothing had happened. He reached for his wine glass with a hand that wasn't quite steady either.

"I apologize for that," he said quietly. "That won't happen again."

I wanted to believe him.

I wasn't sure I did.