CHAPTER 5
1501 Words
Derrick sat at the dining table like he always did.
Same chair. Same angle. Same quiet that felt trained into the walls.
His father was already reading a report beside his plate, eating without really looking at the food. His mother was calm, watching both of them like she was keeping track of things no one else could see.
Derrick didn’t speak first. He never needed to.
Then the staff entered.
A sealed envelope was placed beside his father’s hand.
The Blackwood seal.
His father opened it once, scanned it, then set it down like it was already expected.
“It’s confirmed,” he said.
Derrick looked up slightly. “What is?”
His mother answered before his father did.
“The Carter arrangement has been adjusted. The previous daughter will not attend the agreement.”
Derrick’s hand paused near his cup.
“Adjusted,” he repeated.
“Yes,” his father said. “A replacement has been assigned.”
Derrick’s gaze sharpened a little.
“So that’s what this is now? Assignments?”
His father didn’t react. “It is still the same agreement.”
“It is not the same person.”
“That detail is irrelevant,” his mother said softly.
Derrick leaned back slightly in his chair.
“You’re switching people like it’s paperwork.”
His father finally looked at him.
“Do not misunderstand. This is not about preference. It is about obligation.”
Derrick’s voice stayed controlled, but there was edge under it now.
“And if I refuse the replacement?”
“You won’t,” his father replied simply.
Silence dropped again.
Derrick stared at the table for a moment.
Then he said,
“I want to see them.”
His father frowned slightly. “You will. At the gala.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
His mother tilted her head a little.
“Then what do you mean?”
Derrick’s eyes lifted.
“I want to know who you’re handing my future to.”
His father closed the file.
“You will see what you need to see when the time comes.”
Derrick didn’t like that answer.
But he also knew when a conversation was already closed.
So he stood.
“I’m going to training,” he said.
His father nodded once.
“Do not be late for preparation.”
Derrick left without another word.
---
The training grounds were already active when he arrived.
Guards straightened immediately.
“Alpha heir.”
Derrick gave a short nod.
“Begin.”
And they did.
He moved through drills like it was routine. Clean strikes. Controlled breath. No wasted motion.
But his mind wasn’t fully there.
It kept circling back to one thing.
Replacement.
A person he hadn’t met yet.
A face he was expected to accept without question.
By the time training ended, his expression hadn’t changed, but something behind it had tightened.
Damian was waiting near the car.
“You’re going,” Damian said before anything else.
Derrick didn’t ask what he meant.
“The gala,” Damian continued. “Your rot phase is beginning. You shouldn’t attend.”
Derrick opened the car door.
“I’m going.”
“That level of exposure without full suppression is risky.”
Derrick sat inside.
“I didn’t ask for safety.”
Damian paused.
Then, more carefully,
“The patch will not hold if your stress spikes.”
Derrick looked forward.
“Then it will hold.”
A beat.
Damian sighed slightly.
“Understood.”
The car started moving.
Derrick’s hand lifted to the small patch at his neck.
A controlled seal.
Not perfect.
Just enough.
---
By the time Nate got home, the house already felt different.
Not louder.
Not colder.
Just… expectant.
Richard was waiting near the hallway, holding an envelope.
Nate stopped when he saw it.
“…What is that?”
Richard handed it over.
“A gala invitation.”
Nate didn’t open it immediately.
“For what?”
“Blackwood family event.”
That made Nate’s fingers tighten slightly.
He opened it.
The details were formal. Clean. Final.
His name was already implied in it, even if not fully written.
He closed it again.
“So this is it,” he said quietly.
Richard watched him carefully.
“This is your first visible step.”
“Visible to who?”
“To them.”
Nate exhaled slowly.
“Right.”
A pause.
Then he said,
“Fine.”
Richard nodded once, like that answer was expected.
“You will attend.”
Nate didn’t argue this time.
He just turned away.
---
Daniel found him the next morning at the café.
“You’re going to a what?”
“A gala,” Nate replied while wiping the counter.
Daniel leaned in.
“That sounds like rich people punishment.”
“It is.”
“And you agreed?”
Nate shrugged.
“I don’t have much choice.”
Daniel studied him.
“That’s a bad answer.”
Nate didn’t respond.
Because he didn’t have a better one.
---
The gala hall was already full when they arrived.
Lights too soft. Music too controlled. People too aware of themselves.
Nate stepped in beside Richard and Martha.
Daniel followed behind him, looking around like he was trying to decide if this was real.
“This place feels like it’s waiting for something to go wrong,” Daniel muttered.
“Don’t cause anything,” Nate warned.
“No promises.”
Nate didn’t answer again.
Because he was already feeling it.
Pressure in the air.
Like the room was aware of itself.
---
On the opposite side of the hall, Derrick entered.
Everything shifted slightly when he did.
Not loud.
Just subtle attention.
People noticed him without looking like they were noticing.
Damian leaned closer.
“You’re drawing focus.”
“I know,” Derrick replied.
His eyes moved across the room.
Searching without meaning to.
Then stopped.
Nate.
He didn’t know why.
But he noticed him first.
Derrick’s gaze stayed there longer than necessary.
Nate was talking beside someone, not important-looking, just existing like he didn’t belong to the structure of the room.
Something about that felt wrong.
Familiar in a way that didn’t make sense.
Derrick looked away once.
Then back again.
---
Nate finally looked up.
Their eyes met.
Just for a second.
Nothing dramatic happened.
No sound change. No movement pause.
Just recognition without memory.
Nate frowned slightly.
“…Why do I feel like I’ve seen him before?”
But nothing came.
Derrick’s expression stayed controlled.
Only his attention sharpened.
Damian noticed immediately.
“You’re focusing on one person.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Derrick didn’t respond.
Because he didn’t have an answer that made sense.
---
The crowd shifted again.
Nate felt it first.
A light pressure near his wrist.
He glanced down.
Too late.
The contact had already happened.
Someone brushed past him.
Close enough to be normal.
Too precise to be accidental.
His wrist felt lighter.
But he didn’t notice immediately.
The person was already gone.
Daniel leaned in suddenly.
“Nate.”
“What?”
Daniel frowned.
“Your patch.”
Nate froze.
“…What about it?”
“It’s not there.”
That hit instantly.
Nate looked down properly now.
“Shit.”
He turned fast.
“Bathroom.”
He left without waiting.
---
Inside the bathroom, Nate locked the door.
Pulled his wrist up.
The patch was gone.
“…Of course,” he muttered.
His hands moved quickly. Replacement patch. Fast. Controlled.
“Someone did that on purpose.”
He pressed it down.
It didn’t fully stick.
“Perfect.”
Footsteps outside.
He froze.
Door opened.
---
Derrick stepped in.
He wasn’t expecting anyone.
Neither was Nate expecting him.
The air changed.
Not obvious.
Just present.
Derrick’s hand went to his neck.
His patch loosened slightly.
Rot pressure building under control.
And then—
A scent slipped through.
Soft. Distinct. Unstable in a way that didn’t belong in a place like this.
Derrick stopped.
“…shit.”
A whisper.
Instinct slipping through control.
He staggered forward, vision blurring, nearly collapsing into Nate just as Nate moved to leave.
Nate caught him.
They went down together.
Impact to the floor.
Derrick’s breath uneven. Hands trying to steady, undoing his tie.
Nate stared down at him, discomfort threaded with confusion.
“…Sorry,” Nate said quickly.
He stood.
Left him there.
---
Derrick didn’t move immediately.
Then slowly pushed himself up.
Mirror staring back.
A second too long.
Then he reattached the patch.
Control returning.
Too slowly.
---
Damian appeared at the door.
“Alpha heir—”
He stopped.
“…What happened?”
Derrick didn’t answer at first.
Then quietly:
“Nothing.”
Damian frowned.
“That was the Carter?”
Derrick’s eyes stayed on the door Nate left through.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“…And something else.”
---
Outside, Nate paused in the hallway.
Hand tightening.
“…what was that,” he muttered.
Then walked back into the hall.
- Writer
