CHAPTER 3
1820 Words
Derrick woke before the house did.
He always did.
Not because he liked early mornings, but because sleep never stayed long around people who were always expected to lead.
The Blackwood estate was quiet in the way expensive places usually were. Not empty. Controlled. Every sound had a purpose. Every movement had rules.
Even silence felt planned.
Derrick sat up in bed and stared out the tall window beside him. The sky outside was still pale, the sun just beginning to rise over the distant treeline.
Another day.
Another schedule.
Another set of expectations waiting to be met.
He got dressed without calling for help. He never liked attendants in his personal space unless necessary. It reminded him too much that nothing in this house truly belonged to him, not even his time.
By the time he reached the dining hall, the table was already set.
His father was already there.
Alpha Marcus Blackwood.
Head of the Blackwood Pack.
He sat at the head of the table, reading a document while eating like both things mattered equally. He looked up only when Derrick entered.
“You’re early,” his father said.
“I didn’t have anything else to do,” Derrick replied, taking his seat.
His father nodded once, as if that answer was acceptable.
A few minutes passed in silence before another set of footsteps entered.
Derrick’s mother.
She moved like she always did—calm, controlled, and aware of everything in the room. Her presence always made conversations feel like they carried hidden meaning, even when they didn’t.
“Good morning,” she said, sitting down.
“Morning,” Derrick replied.
His father didn’t bother with greetings again. He simply continued reading.
Breakfast began.
It was quiet at first. Too quiet.
Derrick ate without much interest. Food was just fuel. Nothing more.
Then his mother spoke.
“Have you reviewed the pack reports from last night?”
“Yes,” Derrick said.
“And?”
“Nothing unusual.”
His father finally lowered the document.
“There is something you should be aware of.”
Derrick looked up slightly. “What is it?”
His father set the papers down and folded his hands.
“The Carter family situation has progressed.”
That name shifted something in the room, though Derrick didn’t show it.
Old bloodline.
Old agreement.
Old obligation.
“What about them?” Derrick asked.
His mother answered this time.
“The daughter of the Carter family has come of age. You’ve met her once, during your crowning ceremony.”
Derrick leaned back slightly in his chair.
Of course.
“And?” he asked again.
His father continued.
“We were thinking of inviting her family to finalize the marriage arrangement.”
Derrick paused. “Marriage arrangement?”
His mother nodded.
“Yes. We’ve spoken to you about this matter when you were younger. Why act surprised?”
Derrick’s expression didn’t change.
“I’m not surprised. I thought the Carter family had lost its value. Do we still need to hold onto that agreement?”
His father’s expression remained steady.
“It was your grandfather’s dying wish. Don’t forget, the imperial deed will only be handed to you if you fulfill the promise your great-grandfather made to them.”
Derrick frowned slightly.
“You’re talking about tying someone’s life to mine forever over a promise.”
His mother’s tone stayed calm.
“It is not just a mere promise. With that marriage, you secure the imperial deed. The other wolf clans are beginning to move against us. We need something that holds them in check permanently. And don’t forget—the Carter family carries the lineage of the Moon Goddess. The Divine Moon Clan.”
Derrick looked between them.
“And I’m expected to agree to this.”
“You are expected to consider it,” his father corrected.
A short silence followed.
Derrick set his fork down.
“I don’t know this person.”
“You don’t need to,” his father said. “This is about the Blackwood name and the alliance tied to it.”
His mother added, “The Carter line still carries value, even if it has weakened over time.”
Derrick didn’t like the way that sounded, but he said nothing.
His father continued.
“This is an old promise between our families. It was made by your great-grandfather. It was never formally resolved. He believed one day the alliance with the Divine Moon Clan would become useful again. That is why he secured ties with the only known descendants.”
Derrick narrowed his eyes slightly.
“So this is about honoring something that happened before I was born.”
“It is about honoring our word, your great-grandfather’s word, your grandfather’s dying wish, and securing the future of the pack,” his father corrected.
Derrick leaned back again.
“And if I refuse?”
His mother looked at him carefully.
“You are not being asked to refuse or accept yet. Only to understand what is being placed in front of you.”
Derrick exhaled slowly.
That was always how these conversations went.
Nothing was forced.
Nothing was demanded.
But everything was already decided.
He stood.
“I have training,” he said.
His father nodded once. “You’re dismissed.”
Derrick turned to leave, then paused.
“One question,” he said without turning back.
“Yes?” his father replied.
“Is this marriage about politics… or convenience?”
A brief silence followed.
Then his father said:
“It is about stability.”
Derrick didn’t answer.
He left the room.
---
Outside the dining hall, the estate felt even quieter.
He walked through the corridor alone, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.
Stability.
That word followed him more than anything else.
Stability of the pack.
Stability of alliances.
Stability of reputation.
Stability of power.
Everything except him.
Derrick exhaled slowly as he stepped outside into the training grounds.
The guards straightened when they saw him.
“Morning, Alpha heir,” one said.
Derrick nodded once.
“Begin training,” he said.
And just like that, the day continued.
As if nothing had changed.
But somewhere in the back of his mind, the name Carter stayed.
And for reasons he didn’t care to explore yet, it didn’t leave.
---
After training, Derrick changed quickly.
No delay. No hesitation. Just a shower, fresh clothes, and the same controlled expression he wore everywhere else.
By the time he stepped outside, Damian Blackwell was already waiting by the car.
Damian stood straight, dressed in the Blackwood insignia uniform, tablet in hand.
“Morning, Alpha heir,” Damian said.
“Drive,” Derrick replied.
No further greeting was needed.
They got in.
The ride to the Blackwood corporate office was quiet at first. The city passed in blurred lines outside—tall buildings, early traffic, people already lost in their routines.
Derrick didn’t watch for long.
Inside the office, everything was already prepared.
The Blackwood Corporation wasn’t just a business. It was part of the pack structure itself—money, influence, and territory control all passing through it.
In Derrick’s office, Damian placed a stack of documents on the desk.
“Quarterly pack investment reports,” Damian said. “External partnerships for the southern territories, and updated council projections.”
Derrick opened the first file without speaking.
For a few minutes, only paper movement filled the room.
Then he spoke.
“The southern alliance projections are unstable.”
“Yes,” Damian replied. “Two minor packs are hesitating on renewal.”
“Pressure them,” Derrick said.
“Already in motion,” Damian replied.
“And the council?”
“Still debating resource distribution for the next cycle.”
Derrick leaned back slightly.
“They always debate.”
“Because they always expect you to decide for them in the end,” Damian said carefully.
Derrick closed the file.
“Anything else?”
Damian hesitated. “No, Alpha heir.”
Derrick paused.
Then—
“Yes,” he said.
Damian looked up. “What is it?”
Derrick leaned forward slightly.
“If you had a short period of freedom,” he said, “what would you do?”
Damian blinked once.
“I don’t understand the question.”
“You do,” Derrick said. “Answer it.”
Damian hesitated—rare for him.
“I would… do what I want,” he said slowly.
Derrick watched him.
“Be more specific.”
Damian exhaled.
“Sleep without alarms. Walk without schedule. Eat without reporting it. Basically… be normal.”
Derrick leaned back.
“Normal,” he repeated.
Damian nodded. “For a day or two.”
Silence.
Then Derrick stood.
“Cancel my remaining meetings.”
Damian’s eyes sharpened slightly. “Alpha heir?”
“I said cancel them.”
A pause.
“…Understood.”
Damian turned to leave.
“Damian,” Derrick called.
“Yes?”
“Get casual clothes. Nothing branded. Nothing formal.”
Damian frowned slightly. “May I ask why?”
Derrick picked up his coat.
“You said freedom is being normal,” he said. “Show me what that looks like.”
Damian didn’t argue.
“Yes, Alpha heir.”
---
Later, the city felt different when neither of them were officially themselves.
Derrick wore a plain black hoodie and dark pants. No insignia. No markings. His hair slightly less styled.
Still, he stood out.
Damian matched him in simplicity, though his posture still carried discipline.
“You’re still walking like that,” Damian muttered.
“Like what?” Derrick asked.
“Like someone is watching you.”
Derrick didn’t answer.
Because someone always was.
---
They stopped at a café near the university district.
Normal people. Normal noise. Normal life.
Derrick paused at the entrance.
“This is your idea of normal?” he asked.
“It’s one version,” Damian said.
They entered.
Warm air. Coffee scent. Soft noise.
No one bowed.
No one looked twice.
It was unfamiliar.
And slightly uncomfortable.
They joined the line.
“Order?” the cashier asked.
Derrick stepped forward.
“Black coffee. Strong.”
Damian ordered after.
They moved aside.
Then it happened.
Nate stepped forward behind the counter.
“Next.”
Derrick approached.
Nate looked up.
A brief glance.
That was all.
But it held.
Their hands brushed when the cup was passed.
Accidental.
Quick.
Nothing important.
Nate pulled away first.
“Black coffee. Strong,” he repeated, sliding it over.
Derrick took it.
“Thanks,” he said after a moment.
Nate only nodded.
No recognition.
No reaction.
Just another customer.
Derrick stepped aside.
But he looked back once.
Nate had already moved on.
Back to work.
Back to normal life.
As if nothing had shifted.
But Derrick stayed still a moment longer than necessary.
And for reasons he didn’t yet understand, that bothered him more than it should have.
Not at all.
- Writer
