The Alpha King's Secret Healer

Mira’s POV An emergency meeting at the Cade’s mansion never boded well. Especially not one that came with a formal dinner dress code and my mother’s icy voice telling me, “Don’t be late. We have guests.” My car hummed beneath me as I took the corner a little faster than I should have. The dress clung to me in all the wrong places, silky navy blue, off-shoulder, with an open back and a slit that nearly reached my hip. I hadn’t chosen it. My mother had it ironed and sent to my apartment this morning, complete with heels I’d nearly tripped in twice before giving up and switching them out for black flats. She’d lose her mind if she saw me now. I'd left the diamond earrings on my nightstand and ditched the coat entirely. My hair was up, at least. That would win me half a point. We had money now. A lot of it. My father's banking business exploded last year after a massive merger with some Lycan investors. Suddenly, we were the family to watch. Not the Cades who had to eat bread for a whole week but the Cades with pull. With influence. And I was supposed to act like it. Walk like it. Marry like it. But I picked comfort. I always did. Especially when it felt like I was being dressed for a damn auction. My phone buzzed through the car speakers. “Please tell me you’re not still driving,” Rhea’s voice filled the car, all cheerful sarcasm. “Dinner’s in, like, twenty minutes. Your mom will actually combust if you’re late.” “I’m two blocks away. Calm down.” “I’m not the one you need to worry about. She called me this morning to ask if I knew where you were. Me, Mira. Like I’m your handler.” “You kind of are,” I muttered, turning into the driveway of our oversized, annoyingly polished estate. “I should start charging you. Oh! Before I forget–you’re not gonna believe this. Remember that one critic who kept giving my cinnamon rolls two stars?” “The bitter one that swore you were overhyped? What about him?” “Yeah, him. He posted a whole video review this morning. Apparently, the Lycan King visited my shop yesterday and ordered one of everything. Everything!! Said I was his new favorite bakery.” I blinked. “Wait—Kaelith Draven?” “The one and only. In my shop. In my space. Didn’t say much, but his guards tipped like crazy. Mira, did you even know he was in town?” “No I didn’t, and I don’t really care, Rhea,” I said quickly, pulling into the circular drive. “Let's talk later, Rhea.” She hummed before hanging up. The mansion stood like it was plucked straight from a glossy magazine, white stone, tall pillars, floor-to-ceiling windows with soft lighting that made everything look effortless. Expensive, intimidating, and quiet. Too quiet. I let the car engine die and sank back into the seat for a second, pressing my palms into my lap. Breathe. Just breathe. The moment I stepped out, the door swung open, and my mother appeared like she’d been waiting behind it the whole time. “There you are,” she said, kissing my cheek lightly before stepping back with her eyes already scanning. Here we go. “Your lipstick’s too pale. It washes you out. And your hair, Mira, you couldn't have curled the ends properly? This isn’t casual brunch. This is a dinner with important guests.” I didn’t bother replying. She was already moving around me, smoothing down the fabric of my dress like I hadn’t spent twenty minutes trying to get the thing to sit right. “These flats, seriously? You’ll look like a child next to us. You have heels, don’t you? Why didn’t you—never mind, just keep your shoulders straight.” She spoke as she walked, not slowing for my sigh or the way I rubbed at my temples. The hallway smelled like her perfume. Strong and overpowering. Just like her. We passed the staircase, the art-lined hall, and entered the dining room. And there he was, my father, already seated at the head of the table, swirling wine in a glass like this was just another deal on paper. He looked up with a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. “You’re late,” he said casually. “Good evening, Dad.” I replied ignoring his look of anger. “Are you still staying in that shabby apartment? You smell like the poor. And that…man. Tell me, Mira… are you still dating that pack warrior?” I took the seat farthest from him, folding my arms loosely across my chest. My mother cleared her throat, reaching for the wine like none of this concerned her. “Yes,” I said, keeping my tone even. “I’m still dating him.” His brow lifted slightly. That smug, rehearsed calm never slipped. “We plan to get married,” I added, mostly because I knew it would make him angrier. He didn’t look surprised. That was the worst part. He just set the glass down and leaned back like he was bored already. “Break up with him.” I stared at him. “No.” “Mira, he doesn’t fit our standards. He’s not aligned with—” “If you called me here just to make me break up with the man I love, then you’re in for a shock, Father,” I snapped. “There are many things I’ll obey. Many. But this?” I shook my head slowly, a tight laugh escaping my throat. “Not gonna happen.” “What’s not gonna happen?” I froze. That voice didn’t belong to anyone in this room. It came from behind me low and smooth, carrying the kind of calm that made everything else go still. I turned slowly, my heart stumbling over itself. A man stepped into the dining room like he owned the air. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in black, with silver cufflinks and a face I’d seen too many times in papers and broadcasts to ever forget. Kaelith Draven. The Alpha King. He walked in like he owned the room, like the walls would’ve reshaped themselves if he asked them to. His eyes swept across the table once, pausing on no one for too long, not even me. He took the seat beside my father. Beside Roland Cade. I blinked. My mother immediately straightened, smoothing down her dress, her expression shifting into one of those polite, practiced smiles she always reserved for people with more power than her. She even tilted her head a little as she greeted him, like a good little hostess. I looked at her, then at Kaelith, then back at her. Why was the Alpha King at our table? “What’s going on?” I asked quietly. Her response was subtle. A hard look. One of those stares that dug beneath the skin and screamed shut up without making a sound. I clamped my mouth shut. Kaelith sat there sitting tall with the look of indifference on his face. No one had explained anything to me. But I was already putting two and two together. I was the only unmarried Cade girl. My father wanted me to break up with my boyfriend and suddenly the alpha king was here. No. It better not be true. I would give them the benefit of the doubt, I would never agree to an arranged marriage. The table was set, the food untouched, and the air so tense it might’ve cracked the crystal glasses. Tension bled into the silence. The plates were full. The wine was poured. No one touched a thing. My leg bounced under the table. I hated this. I cleared my throat. “Nice setup, Dad. Though, with his net worth, I’d assume Kaelith Draven doesn’t need to be fed on our dime.” Kaelith’s eyes flicked to mine. Just for a second. “I don’t come for the food,” he said. “But I’m always entertained.” I frowned. He leaned back slightly, expression unreadable. “You’re quieter than I expected. Though I suppose that’s better than a mouth that runs wild.” My mother’s foot tapped mine under the table. I knew what that meant too. Don’t talk back. Not to him. I looked down at my plate. My appetite was dead anyway. And then my father cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, as if this was just business because it always was with him. “We’ve called this dinner to make things official. Mira, you’ll be marrying Kaelith Draven. It’s an arranged agreement between both families.”