Bought by the Alpha who hates me

The Late Night Conversation

Chapter 3 _The Late Night Conversation

By the time evening came, the pack house felt strange again.

Not loud strange.

Quiet strange.

Like everybody knew something I didn’t.

I noticed it almost immediately after dinner. The servants were cleaning too fast, speaking too softly. One of the younger maids dropped a spoon when I walked into the kitchen for water, and the sound made everybody look up at once.

Then down again.

It was getting annoying.

I grabbed a cup anyway. “Did I suddenly become terrifying overnight?”

Nobody answered.

One woman forced a smile. “Of course not, young mistress.”

But she still looked nervous.

I left before the silence got worse.

The halls were colder at night. The windows near the staircase were cracked open slightly, letting in wind from the forest outside. I could smell pine trees. Rain too, somewhere far off.

Usually I liked nights here.

The pack house sounded alive after dark. Guards changing shifts. Wolves talking downstairs. Music sometimes drifting up from the kitchens if the cooks were in a good mood.

Tonight felt hollow.

I headed toward Father’s office automatically.

Honestly, I didn’t even know why.

Maybe because I hadn’t really stopped thinking about him all day.

That stupid cough.

The shaking in his hands.

The way everybody kept pretending not to notice.

Light spilled from underneath his office door when I reached the hallway.

Good. He was still awake.

I raised my hand to knock—

Then stopped.

Voices.

Father sounded tired.

“…I said I’m fine.”

Then her voice answered.

Smooth. Calm. Too calm.

“You nearly collapsed this morning.”

“I lost my balance.”

“That isn’t better.”

I froze outside the door.

Something about hearing them when they didn’t know I was there made my stomach tighten.

Father sighed heavily inside the room. “You’re overreacting.”

“No,” Lady Morwen said softly. “Seraphina is.”

My name made me straighten immediately.

There was a pause.

Then Father laughed quietly under his breath. “She gets that from me.”

That almost made me smile.

Almost.

The door suddenly opened before I could move away properly.

Lady Morwen stepped out first.

For one second, actual surprise crossed her face when she saw me standing there.

Tiny moment.

Gone immediately.

“Seraphina,” she said smoothly. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long.”

Lie.

Her eyes stayed on mine a second too long, like she knew I was lying and didn’t care enough to point it out.

Father appeared behind her, loosening the collar of his shirt with one hand.

The second I saw him properly, my chest tightened again.

He looked exhausted.

Not weak exactly.

That would’ve been easier.

This looked worse somehow. Like somebody forcing themselves to stay standing because too many people depended on them.

“There you are,” he said.

“You should be asleep.”

He stared at me for a second. “Interesting. I was about to say the same thing to you.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

He smiled a little when he said it, but it faded quickly.

Everything faded quickly with him lately.

I hated noticing that.

Lady Morwen stepped aside smoothly. “He refuses to rest.”

“That’s because everyone suddenly treats me like I’m dying.”

The joke landed badly.

Silence hit the hallway for a second.

Father realized it immediately.

“…That came out wrong.”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

He rubbed his forehead tiredly. “You know what I meant.”

Did I?

Because lately, every time somebody mentioned death around him, something cold twisted inside my stomach.

Father looked at me carefully for a moment before sighing.

“You’ve been worrying too much.”

“Because something’s wrong.”

“There it is again.”

“What?”

“That look.”

I frowned. “What look?”

“The one where you’ve already decided I’m sick before listening to anything I say.”

“You are sick.”

“I’m tired.”

“That cough doesn’t sound like being tired.”

His expression changed slightly then.

Not angry.

Just… frustrated.

Not with me specifically. More like with the conversation itself.

“You know,” he said quietly, “most daughters don’t interrogate their fathers every five minutes.”

“Most fathers don’t look like they’re about to pass out.”

“Seraphina.”

“What?”

A pause.

Then unexpectedly, he laughed.

Actually laughed.

Not loudly, but enough to soften the tension for a second.

“You were easier when you were little.”

I crossed my arms. “That’s because I trusted you.”

“Ouch.”

“You taught me to notice things.”

“Well now I regret it.”

That earned a tiny smile out of me before I could stop it.

Father noticed immediately.

“There she is.”

The way he said it made something ache in my chest.

Because he looked relieved just seeing me smile.

And suddenly I remembered being younger and hiding under his desk during meetings because I hated thunderstorms. He’d pretend not to notice me there while secretly passing snacks under the table whenever council members got too serious.

The memory hit so suddenly I almost forgot where I was.

Then Father coughed.

Harder this time.

Everything snapped back immediately.

He turned away sharply, coughing into his fist while one hand caught the wall beside him.

My stomach dropped.

“Father—”

“I’m fine.”

But his voice sounded rough now.

Lady Morwen stepped closer instantly. Too instantly.

“You need rest,” she said quietly.

Her hand touched his arm lightly.

And Father flinched.

Tiny movement.

Easy to miss.

I didn’t miss it.

Neither did she.

Something changed in her eyes for a second.

Cold. Quick. Gone.

Father straightened almost immediately afterward like nothing happened.

But now the hallway felt tense in a completely different way.

I looked between both of them carefully.

Nobody spoke.

Then Father exhaled heavily. “I’m suddenly very tired of being observed.”

“You’re the Alpha,” I replied. “People observe you.”

“Yes, but usually they fear me a little while doing it.”

“I still fear you.”

“That’s definitely a lie.”

“Maybe a little.”

He smiled again.

Smaller this time.

Then he reached over and squeezed my shoulder briefly.

That simple gesture nearly broke me for some reason.

Maybe because he’d always done that.

Before hunts. Before ceremonies. Before exams when I was younger and convinced I’d fail everything.

One squeeze on the shoulder.

His version of saying I’m here.

“I’m alright,” he said quietly.

And maybe he believed it.

That was the worst part.

Lady Morwen looked at me then.

Still calm. Always calm.

“You should let him sleep.”

Something about the sentence irritated me immediately.

Maybe because she sounded like she was dismissing me.

Or maybe because she acted like she had a right to tell me when to leave my own father alone.

“I wasn’t stopping him.”

“No,” she agreed softly. “You’re simply exhausting him.”

That stung more than it should have.

Father noticed immediately too.

“Morwen—”

“It’s fine,” I cut in quickly.

But it wasn’t.

Not really.

Because she smiled while saying it.

Not a mean smile.

That would’ve been easier to deal with.

This one looked polite.

Controlled.

Like she genuinely believed she was being reasonable.

And somehow that made it worse.

Father rubbed a tired hand over his face. “Can both of you avoid fighting for one night?”

“We’re not fighting,” Lady Morwen said smoothly.

I looked at her. “You literally just called me exhausting.”

“I said you were exhausting him.”

“That’s worse.”

Father groaned softly under his breath. “Exactly what I meant.”

Despite myself, I laughed quietly.

Even Lady Morwen smiled again.

But hers disappeared the second Father looked away.

That bothered me immediately.

No— bothered wasn’t the right word.

Unsettled me.

Like catching a mask slip for half a second.

Father yawned suddenly, and the sound alone made him seem older somehow.

Not old.

Just worn down.

“I’m going to bed,” he muttered.

“Good,” I said immediately.

He pointed at me weakly. “Bossy.”

“You raised me.”

“That’s becoming your answer for everything.”

“Because it works.”

Another tired laugh.

Then he started walking down the hallway toward his room.

Halfway there, he slowed slightly.

Not enough for most people to notice.

Enough for me.

Enough for her.

Lady Morwen watched him carefully before following.

But before she left completely, she stopped beside me.

“You love him very much,” she said quietly.

I frowned a little at the random comment. “Obviously.”

Her eyes stayed on mine.

Something unreadable moved through them.

“Yes,” she murmured. “That’s what worries me.”

Then she walked away before I could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean.

I stood there staring after her.

The hallway suddenly felt colder than before.

Wind pushed softly through the cracked windows nearby, carrying the smell of rain inside.

Somewhere downstairs, a door shut.

For a long moment, I didn’t move.

I just kept replaying that sentence in my head.

That’s what worries me.

Not him.

Me.

My wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin.

And deep down—

somewhere underneath the confusion and fear and exhaustion—

A terrible thought started forming.

Maybe Lady Morwen wasn’t afraid of losing my father.

Maybe she was afraid of me noticing how.