REJECTED BY THE ALPHA, CLAIMED BY HIS FATHER

Under One Roof

Dinner on the first official night of the trial was, by unspoken agreement, meant to be a demonstration of normalcy for the household staff and any watching council eyes. It failed spectacularly within the first ten minutes.

Zariah arrived at the dining room to find the table set for three, Cassian already seated at the head, Ronan across from an empty chair that was clearly meant for her.

She took it, aware of the careful way both men avoided looking directly at each other, and the meal began in a silence so thick even the clink of cutlery seemed loud.

“How was the northern boundary walk,” Ronan asked eventually, directing the question at his father in the overly formal tone of someone filling dead air rather than genuinely curious.

“Productive,” Cassian said. “We found storm damage requiring repair before the next council session.”

“We,” Ronan repeated.

“Zariah and I,” Cassian said, unbothered. “Part of the trial’s joint duties.”

Ronan’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. “Right. Of course.”

The silence that followed was worse than the first.

A council elder present for the meal, an older man named Barrow who’d been invited under some pretense of pack business, seemed to sense an opportunity and leaned forward. “I understand there’s been some concern raised about the propriety of the trial arrangement. Living quarters so close, given the circumstances.”

“The circumstances being that my mate lives in my home,” Cassian said, his voice perfectly level, though Zariah caught the edge beneath it. “I wasn’t aware close quarters required special justification for a bonded pair, Barrow.”

“Of course not, Alpha. Simply raising what others have wondered.”

“Then others may direct their wondering to me directly,” Cassian said, “rather than through dinner conversation.”

Barrow subsided, and Zariah caught the faintest twitch at the corner of Ronan’s mouth, something almost like reluctant amusement at watching his father dispatch the comment so efficiently.

The meal continued in fits and starts after that, conversation limited to safe pack business, until Barrow made the mistake of turning his attention to Zariah directly.

“And you, dear. Adjusting well to pack house life? Quite a change from an herbalist’s cottage.”

“I’m managing,” Zariah said evenly.

“I imagine it must be difficult,” Barrow continued, apparently unable to read a room, “finding yourself suddenly at the center of such attention. Some might say more attention than an Omega is accustomed to.”

The temperature in the room dropped noticeably.

“Some might say,” Cassian said, setting down his fork with deliberate precision, “that an Omega who stood in front of this entire council and spoke for herself with more composure than half the elders present has earned considerably more respect than she’s currently being shown at my own table.”

Barrow’s face reddened. “I meant no disrespect, Alpha.”

“Then choose your words with more care,” Cassian said, “or choose not to speak them at all.”

Ronan set down his own utensils, watching his father with an expression Zariah couldn’t quite name, something between old resentment and grudging recognition.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Ronan said abruptly, pushing back from the table. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

He left the dining room without waiting for a response, footsteps sharp against the hardwood, and the remainder of dinner passed in stiff, careful conversation that neither Zariah nor Cassian seemed particularly invested in continuing.

Barrow excused himself shortly after, muttering something about an early morning, and Zariah found herself alone at the table with Cassian for the first time all evening, the staff having cleared most of the dishes already.

“That wasn’t necessary,” she said. “Defending me like that. I’ve handled worse than Barrow’s insinuations.”

“I know you have,” Cassian said. “That doesn’t mean you should have to, not at my own table, in my own home.”

“Ronan seemed upset.”

“Ronan is adjusting to a great many things at once,” Cassian said, something tired entering his voice. “His mate bond broken by his own choice. His father claimed by the woman he rejected. His position as heir suddenly tangled up in a scandal he didn’t fully anticipate. I don’t excuse how he’s handled parts of it. But I understand the difficulty.”

“You’re generous with him,” Zariah observed. “Considering.”

“He’s my son,” Cassian said simply. “That doesn’t disappear because he made a choice I wouldn’t have made in his position.”

Zariah studied him across the table, this man who’d defended her without hesitation and still found room to extend patience toward the son who’d humiliated her days earlier, and felt the careful walls she’d been maintaining shift another fraction of an inch.

“Thank you,” she said finally. “For tonight.”

“You don’t need to thank me for expecting basic respect toward you in my own house,” Cassian said. “That should never have been in question.”

Later that night, unable to sleep, Zariah made her way down to the kitchen for water and found Ronan already there, sitting alone at the small staff table with a glass of something stronger than water in front of him.

He looked up, startled, then gestured vaguely at the seat across from him, an offer she hadn’t expected and wasn’t sure she wanted to accept.

“I owe you an apology,” he said quietly. “For tonight. For a lot of things, honestly. But tonight specifically.”

Zariah stayed standing by the counter, unwilling to sit, unwilling to leave either. “Go on, then.”

“I don’t know how to be around you now,” Ronan admitted. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to be angry, or guilty, or relieved, or all three at once. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel watching my father look at you the way he did tonight.”

“You don’t have to figure that out for my benefit,” Zariah said. “That’s your business, not mine.”

“I know.” He turned the glass slowly on the table. “I just wanted you to know I see it. Whatever this is between you and him. I see it, and it’s real, and I’m trying to be okay with that.”

She left him there without responding, unsure what response he was even looking for, and climbed the stairs back to her room with his words trailing after her, an unexpected honesty she hadn’t been prepared to receive from him.