Teasing Her Alpha Guard

CHAPTER 9

Dahlia

Everyone was seated in the pack house by mid morning, all of us dressed and composed despite yesterday's little dispute still hanging thick in the air. My mother sat with her hands folded neatly on her lap, though I noticed the faint bruise she'd tried to cover with makeup near her collarbone. My father sat at the head of the room, back straight, every inch the Alpha again. Cassian sat beside him, arms crossed, jaw set. A handful of pack members lined the walls, murmuring quietly among themselves. And me, seated near my mother, doing my best impression of a proper heiress who hadn't spent half the night pacing her room replaying Marcus's smug little smile.

Roman stood at the far end of the room in his usual position, straight backed, arms loose at his sides, wearing that same detached expression that gave nothing away. I'd stopped trying to read him days ago. It never worked.

The doors opened, and Adrian Vale walked in.

His entourage flanked him on both sides, more guards than I remembered from the last time he'd visited. Even someone blind could tell his security had doubled, maybe tripled. He moved like a man who owned whatever room he stepped into, golden hair perfectly styled, not a single wrinkle in his tailored suit despite what I imagined must have been an early morning drive.

He'd heard about the attack, of course. Word like that traveled fast between packs and here he was, showing up early to make sure his future investment was still breathing. How thoughtful.

A pair of lanky omegas trailing behind him, probably his own pack's mates, stepped forward carrying armfuls of flowers. So many flowers it looked almost excessive, like he was compensating for something. Our mates took them with polite nods, already moving to find vases.

"Alpha Lucien." Adrian's eyes flicked toward me for the briefest second, warm and calculated, before settling back on my father. "You already know why I'm here."

"Of course, Adrian. This isn't a surprise to anyone." My father rose halfway to greet him, gesturing toward the empty seat near his own. "You're very welcome here."

"Do you care for white wine or red?" my father asked, settling back into his chair.

"White is preferable." Adrian's smile was easy, effortless. "Let's not drink red today. I heard blood was shed here yesterday and I wouldn't want to stir up sad memories."

"You're very thoughtful." My father actually smiled at that, genuine and relieved, like Adrian's small gesture of tact meant something enormous after the night we'd all had.

He nodded to one of the mates near the door, who slipped out to fetch the wine and glasses.

I sat there watching the whole exchange with my stomach twisting slowly. Adrian hadn't so much as glanced at the destroyed east wing on his way in, hadn't asked about the injured, hadn't asked how many we'd lost. Just wine preferences and careful concern, delivered like lines from a script he'd rehearsed in the car.

"The attack yesterday wasn't even expected, was it?" Adrian continued, leaning forward slightly, his tone shifting into something more businesslike. "I think a tighter security system would help going forward. I'd like to send some of my own fighters to establish a base here, in case something like this happens again."

My father's brow creased slightly. "You have a point but sending fighters here would stretch your own pack's security thin, wouldn't it?"

Adrian smiled, showing off a row of perfectly white teeth, the kind of smile that probably worked wonders on everyone who wasn't paying close attention.

"I'm protecting my woman and her people." His eyes found mine again, lingering this time. "It's nothing. Her safety is important to me."

My woman?

I rolled my eyes so hard I was surprised they didn't get stuck that way. My father, thankfully, was too busy being charmed by the demure, proud man seated across from him to notice. I glanced sideways at Roman without meaning to. His jaw had gone tight, a muscle ticking near his temple, but his face stayed otherwise carved from stone. If I didn't know better, I'd have said he looked ready to snap Adrian's perfect teeth right out of his mouth.

The wine arrived few minutes later, and the conversation drifted into smaller things. Pack alliances, upcoming full moon gatherings, some cousin of Adrian's getting mated in the fall. I nodded along where it seemed necessary, said the right things when spoken to, and spent most of it watching Adrian's hands. Steady. Relaxed. Not the hands of a man whose neighbor pack had just been firebombed the night before.

Something about him sat wrong in my chest, low and persistent, like a splinter I couldn't quite dig out.

After a while, Adrian set down his glass and turned to my father with a different look on his face. Quieter. More deliberate.

"Alpha Lucien, might I have a private word? Just the two of us."

My father nodded immediately, already rising from his seat. "Of course, to my study."

I watched them stand, watched Adrian offer my mother a polite bow before following my father out of the room, and every instinct I had screamed that whatever they were about to discuss behind that closed door involved me.

I waited exactly as long as it took for the room's attention to drift elsewhere, my mother pulled into a conversation with one of the visiting mates, Cassian distracted by a guard reporting something in his ear, before I slipped out quietly and followed the direction they'd gone.

The hallway was empty, lit low, the kind of quietness that made every footstep sound too loud. I reached the study door and pressed my ear against the cool wood, heart thudding against my ribs, straining to catch even a fragment of what was being said on the other side.