The Alpha Lord's Weakness

Chapter three

Xavier's Pov

I sat there, stewing in my own frustration. She was late. How dare she keep me waiting like this? Zero tolerance for lateness, I had told her, yet here she was, waltzing in with the air of a goddess, at least in her own estimation.

When she finally arrived, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her over-the-top makeup and ridiculously long lashes.

Her arrival was a whirlwind of fake apologies and sweetness, clinging to me like a leech. The evening stretched on, each minute crawling by like a snail on a cold day.

Finally, blessedly, it was over. She grabbed the gifts I’d sent my assistant to buy, no doubt hoping to compensate for her tardiness, and waved off with a chirpy goodbye.

I watched her retreat, a sigh of relief slipping from my lips. Thank goodness that was over, I thought to myself.

"I can't believe you're really going to get married to her." Patrick snickered as we made our way to the car. "She's a real pain in the a*s, if you ask me."

We were now headed towards my grandmother's place. Why the urgency, I wondered?

"Miranda's estate!" I called out to the driver, adjusting my cufflinks and loosening my tie. The Miami sun beat down on us relentlessly, almost as if it were mocking my tension.

The night was a dark blanket by the time we pulled into my grandmother's estate. Before the chauffeur could even make his way around to open my door, butlers had materialized from the shadows, their crisp white uniforms seeming to glow in the moonlight.

I stepped out, a faint smile gracing my lips. Leave it to my grandmother to create a spectacle, even in the dead of night.

"Welcome young master." They intoned, bowing in unison as I swept past them, their voices echoing through the still air.

The sweeping staircase rolled out like a welcome mat, each step leading me closer to the magnificent oak doors that guarded the mysteries within.

Ivy coiled like a guardian serpent up the sides of the mansion, its tendrils caressing the stone façade, as if whispering secrets to the walls. High, arched windows, crowned with velvet curtains, stood like watchful guards, emitting soft, golden light that flickered like fireflies against the blanket of darkness.

I paused for a moment, letting the nostalgia wash over me.

The grounds surrounding the mansion sprawled like a lush carpet, each blade of grass, every leaf on the trees, meticulously maintained with a level of care that bordered on the obsessive. Trees stood proud, their branches swaying ever so slightly in the cool evening breeze.

As I crossed the threshold into the main hall, I was greeted by a grandeur that took my breath away. Marble floors gleamed beneath my feet, their cool, smooth surface a stark contrast to the warmth of the ornate chandeliers that hung overhead like glittering stars in the night sky.

Walls that were once white and austere now shimmered with priceless paintings and tapestries, each one a testament to my family's wealth and power.

Beside me, I could hear Patrick's awed intake of breath, his first exposure to this grandeur.

I chuckled lightly, my amusement tinged with a hint of arrogance. "Welcome to my world..." I quipped, as we began to ascend the sweeping staircase that led to the upper floors.

"This place is insane!" Patrick breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. This isn't his first time here, but he's always amazed whenever he visits.

The staircase spiraled upwards like a serpent, each step cushioned by a velvet carpet that felt soft and yielding beneath my feet.

While each visit stirred a sense of awe, the familiarity of the ancestral home was a comfort, a place where the Silver Pack's legacy was etched into every polished surface and woven into every thread of its ornate tapestries.

I felt a surge of pride at my inheritance, not just as a member of the Silver Pack, but as the future Alpha Lord, the inheritor of a long line of powerful werewolf leaders.

I stalked back into the hallway, following the trail of his lingering scent until I located him, his face transfixed by the paintings that adorned the walls. Without a word, I marched over to him, grasped him by the ear, and tugged him away from his artistic musings.

"Ow!" Patrick yelped, jerking his head out of my grip. "What the hell, dude?"

"She's waiting. I growled, my patience wearing thin. "Don't keep your future Alpha Lord waiting."

As the doors parted, the warm aroma of cinnamon rolls and freshly brewed coffee embraced us like a comforting hug.

"Oh my, you're finally here, my little pup!" My grandmother cooed, her voice as sweet as the scent that filled the room.

She approached, a smile crinkling her eyes, and I bent to place gentle kisses on both her cheeks. Despite her age, her scent was that of baby powder, a nostalgic scent that would always remind me of her.

A chuckle rumbled through my chest as my grandmother stroked my hair, her touch as gentle as a summer breeze.

"I'm a grown man, Nana!" I protested, unable to contain the amused grin that threatened to split my face.

Patrick, on the other hand, laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Nana, this grandson of yours is as cold as ice when he's with other people! But here he is, snuggling into his grandmother's arms!"

Next thing I knew, a boot was flying towards his direction and hit him squarely on his forehead.

"Ouch!" He whined as he rubbed his forehead in pain.

"No one speaks ill of my grandson and goes unscathed." She said, a hint of mischief dancing in her voice as she continued to stroke my hair.

“No one speaks ill of my grandson and goes unscathed,” she said, a hint of mischief dancing in her voice as she continued to stroke my hair.

This woman, my nana, was the only one who could make me forget the weight of my responsibilities and submit to her will.

“So, nana...” I began, but was cut off mid-sentence as she yanked my head from her lap, her eyes narrowing.

“You do realize I’m mad at you?” Her voice was level, but there was a flicker of disappointment in her gaze.

I frowned, feigning confusion. "Whatever for, nana?"

She let out a heavy sigh, her eyes drifting down to the floor. "Your marriage to the Bakers."

My shoulders tensed, but I kept my face impassive. I had been expecting this discussion, yet it still left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I let out a heavy sigh, trying to keep my voice even. "Nana, I’ve been betrothed to her since I was a child. This was decided long before I had any say in the matter."

My grandmother fixed me with a stern gaze. "They’ll double-cross you. They have two daughters."

"What?" I asked, stunned. Ashley had never mentioned a sister, and all our conversations had centered solely around her.

"I heard it from one of your cousins. The girl isn’t recognized as an heir of the Bakers." My grandmother continued, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. "You could be marrying into a family that doesn’t have the power or influence they claim."

I tried to hide my frustration, but my voice rose in pitch. "Doesn’t mean she’s not the one I’m supposed to marry!"

She sighed, her eyes downcast. "I just have a bad feeling about the girl you’re about to get married to."

"It’s fine, nana..." I reassured her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and squeezing her tightly. "Everything will be fine.!"

I said the words with confidence, but deep down, I wasn’t so sure. There was something about Ashley that sent chills down my spine, a scent of trouble that lingered around her like bad perfume.

And we would be getting married in two days, despite the fact that she wasn’t my mate.