9
1177 Words
I could not get a good view of his face, so I had no idea whose child he might be.
"I wasn't stealing!" he replied, his tone indignant. I almost laughed, but he got off the floor, a jar of jam still in hand, and took one cautious step toward me,
"You're the one stealing," he added,
He was skinny and must be between the ages of 6 and 12. I could not be too sure. He was too tiny. But his countenance somehow seemed more mature.
"Fine. I was stealing." I agreed. This time I let my smile burst through, and the suspicion deepened on his face. He took another cautious step towards me while I remained still, watching him closely.
His curly, dark brown hair was the same as Nicholas's. I could see some similarities between the new Alpha and the little boy, but not close enough to conclude if Nicholas was the father or not.
I knew nothing about Nicholas. I had never seen him before the day he killed my father. I had yet to learn if he had a son or family. He would not be proposing marriage if he already had a wife, so maybe he was widowed.
Did my father kill his wife, I wondered. Maybe that was why he hated my family so much. The little boy broke through my thoughts, and I turned my attention back to him,
"I know who you are!" He accused.
"Really? Then I'm at a disadvantage because I have no idea who you are."
He must have concluded that I wasn't going to hurt him because he took another step closer, and set his jam on the table.
"My name is Lucas," he announced before continuing. "Your father's army killed my mother. But I can forgive you because Uncle Nick killed your father, so we're square."
Okay, definitely more than six.
Even though it was not new for kids to be told stories of war, the fact that he knew all of this information meant that he'd probably hidden in corners eavesdropping. I did not see Nicholas telling his nephew that he'd killed someone.
"And how do you know all this is true, Lucas?” I asked, and he just shrugged.
"I heard Aunty Fi talking to Uncle Ryland about it. I know how to hide
when I want to." He said the last part proudly.
"Is that so?" I had no idea what to say to that. He nodded again, clearly proud of himself,
"Well, in that case, I guess it’s nice to meet you." I extended my hand to him despite his sticky ones, but he did not take my hand. A smart and suspicious kid.
"Aren't you sad that your daddy's gone to heaven?" he asked. A sudden burst of laughter escaped my lips which I immediately stifled.
I doubted Alexander Lonsdale was anywhere other than hell, but I didn’t want to tell him that.
"My father was not a good man, Lucas."
"Not even to you?" the little boy asked like it was the most unrealistic thing he'd ever heard. I paused before I told him no. It had been shocking to me too as a kid that my father was always so cruel to me.
He was mostly indifferent to my presence, but on the days when he did dain to acknowledge me, he was fifty percent cold and fifty percent cruel.
Before I could respond, the sound of footsteps on the tiles interrupted us, and a woman dressed in a sexy black dress and high, pointy heels so high it looked scary walked in. Her hair was styled in a pixie-cut style and her face was fully made up.
Her eyes landed on Lucas before she looked up at me. She stared between Lucas and me with a look I could only describe as panicked before she rushed over and pulled Lucas sharply away from me.
"Aunty, Fi! My hand." Lucas cried, and I shot to my feet to protect the boy.
"I'm sorry, baby. What are you doing alone with this woman, don't you know she's dangerous!" she said to him. I had to applaud her for keeping her voice steady as she spoke to Lucas even though she was clearly agitated.
"If I wanted to hurt him, I would have done that long before you showed up," I said. She barely acknowledged me before sending Lucas to his room and instructing him to wash his face and hands.
"Stay away from him!"
"I think you should be telling that to Lucas, not me, Buddy," I said flippantly, sitting back down and picking up my spoonful of Nutella. Although I was very aware of her every move.
"I don't know how you managed to convince Nicholas that you're harmless, but I know your family's history. We all do. And I know y'all have no problems killing family members, but I will tear you limb from limb if you so much as look at my God-son."
I had no idea what she meant about my family killing each other, but I tried not to let it show that she'd ruffled my feathers.
"You're interrupting my breakfast." I made my tone as bland as possible, "And your Godson’s too, but at least he was better company."
If looks could kill, I would be a flaming hot mess on the tiles by now. She let out a low grunt and took one step towards me, but a cold voice from the hallway stopped her.
"Fiona." We both turned to see Nicholas standing and watching us. He had called her name, but he had his eyes on me. I hated to say it, but the look he gave me sent shock waves of electricity down my spine. I forced myself to look away.
"Leave us," he said. Fiona looked as shocked as if he had just confessed his undying love for me, but she obeyed without another word.
"You shouldn't piss off my people," he said once we were alone. He was wearing a pair of black slacks and a black tee, the tattoo on his arm very visible, and his hair loose on his shoulders.
He was every woman's wet dream, and even though I was not immune, I managed to keep my composure.
"Funny, I thought they were my people too, once we’re married," I replied. He c****d his head to the side.
"Is that a yes to my proposal?" he asked. I realized I'd walked myself right into that trap.
I avoided saying anything more about this marriage thing, "Why did you send the guards away?"
"I didn't. They're still at the gate. You can leave your room Princess, but you can't leave the compound."
His words only made me angry, but I didn't say anything else, and so neither did he.
"Noted," I said scathingly, but he was already walking away, and I had the strongest urge to fling my Nutella at his back. Instead, I took one more large spoonful and stewed in my anger.
- Writer
