The dinner table in the grand Blackwood dining hall was thick with tension. The long mahogany table gleamed under the chandelier light, but the atmosphere was anything but warm. The Alpha sat at the head, his presence commanding as always. The three triplets — Rowan, Soran, and Cauro — occupied their usual seats, while several maids, including Isla, moved silently around them, serving food and refilling glasses.
The clink of silverware was the only sound for several minutes. The Alpha finally broke the silence, his deep voice cutting through the quiet.
“So… what has been going on with you three lately?” he asked, noticing how unnaturally quiet the table was.
“Nothing,” Cauro answered quickly, not looking up from his plate.
The Alpha’s sharp gaze shifted to Rowan and Soran. The two brot
