Alpha Liam's Choice

Private Dinner with Alpha Dixon

The study was beautiful.

Bookshelves towered to the ceiling, filled with expensive leather-bound volumes. A fire crackled in the hearth. The furniture was dark wood and heavy.

Dixon sat behind the desk, reading something.

He looked up.

I stood in the doorway, tray trembling in my hands.

His eyes swept over me. The blue dress. The messy hair. The faint flush I couldn't control.

"You came," he said.

"You asked me to."

A pause. Then he nodded once, slowly.

"Bring it here."

I set the tray on his desk. Uncovered the dishes. Arranged everything within reach.

He watched me the entire time.

"Sit," he said.

There's no chair.

He gestured. I pulled the armchair from across the room and sat at the edge of his desk, hands folded in my lap.

He picked up his fork.

"This is good," he said, after the first bite.

"Thank you, Alpha."

"Just Dixon."

My heart stumbled.

Dixon. Not Alpha. Dixon.

He ate in silence. I watched the fire crackle and tried to breathe normally.

"Your grandmother used to make this sauce," he said.

I blinked. "You knew my grandmother?"

"Before your time. She was..." He paused, fork hovering. "Formidable."

I didn't know what to say. No one ever talked about my grandmother. It was like she'd been erased, same as me.

"She named me," I whispered awkwardly. "Leila Yan. elegance."

Dixon looked at me then. Really looked.

"It suits you."

We talked.

Small things at first. The weather. My school. The upcoming summit. My work in the kitchens, he asked about that with curiosity.

"You don't complain."

"There's nothing to complain about."

A pause. His knife scraped against the plate.

"That's not true."

I didn't answer.

He finished his meal. Pushed the plate aside. Leaned back in his chair and studied me with those golden eyes.

"You're not what I expected."

What did you expect? Someone louder? Stronger? Worthier?

"I don't know," I said honestly. "What did you expect?"

He didn't answer.

The fire popped. Sparks scattered against the hearth.

Dixon stood.

I stood too, suddenly aware of how small the room felt. How close he was. How the shadows stretched long and hungry across the walls.

"You've been here for weeks," he said. "And you've never asked about the betrothal."

My throat tightened. "It wasn't my place."

"You're my fated mate."

Was. Was your fated mate. Before you wrapped your arm around Lily and forgot I existed.

"I know," I said.

"Do you know why I haven't spoken to you about it?"

I shook my head. Couldn't speak.

He stepped closer.

"Because I didn't know what to say."

Say you're sorry. Say you made a mistake. Say you remember the boy who squeezed my hand and promised to wait.

He was close now. Too close. His scent wrapped around me..

"You're different," he murmured. "From her."

I'm not her. I'll never be her. I don't want to be her.

"You're quiet. You don't demand attention. You just..." His hand lifted. Fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face. "Exist."

I stopped breathing.

"You make me feel like I'm allowed to breathe, too."

Right there in the study, he bolted the lock, pulled me over, and kissed me.

His hand unzipped my dress and cupped my tender breasts.

Warm. Rough. His thumb traced my n****e like it was something fragile. Something precious.

I should have been happy. This was what I'd hoped for, dreamed of, prayed for in my narrow bed for weeks.

Dixon saw me. Dixon touched me. Dixon…

His other hand settled on my waist.

Too low. Too firm. Too much.

I stiffened.

He didn't notice. His head dipped, breath warm against my breast.

"You could stay," he murmured. "Tonight. Here."

My heart stopped.

"Alpha.."

"Dixon." His lips caress my n****e. "Call me Dixon."

"I... I should clear the dishes.."

"Leave them."

His hand slid lower.

Something snapped.

Not my wolf, still silent, still sleeping. Something else. Something that reminded me of Aunt Mei’s barn, the stranger's touch.

I shoved against his chest.

He stumbled back, surprised. His eyes glowing red, then confusion.

"Leila.."

"I have to go."

My voice didn't sound like mine. High. Shaking.

"Wait.."

"The kitchen. I forgot. Auntie Zheng needs help with the morning prep…"

"That can wait.."

"It can't."

I grabbed the tray. Dishes rattled. The sauce had congealed, cold and greasy.

I didn't look at him. Couldn't.

"Thank you for the meal, Alpha."

I fled.

I ran through service corridors. Past the laundry. Past my narrow room. Past everything until I reached the empty training yard and doubled over, gasping.

The tray clattered to the ground. A plate shattered.

I pressed my hands to my chest and felt nothing. No wolf. No warmth. Just the hollow echo of my own frantic heartbeat.

He touched me.

He wanted..

I thought..

I don't know how long I knelt there. Long enough for my breathing to slow. Long enough for the shattered plate to glint coldly in the moonlight. Long enough for the tears to dry on my cheeks, unwept.

You're my fated mate, he said.

Then why did I feel like prey?

I thought Alpha Dixon wanted to go on his knees and apologize. oh I've been such a fool.

Alpha Dixon just wanted a playmate, not a mate

I gathered the broken pieces. Wiped the tray clean. Walked back to my room and closed the door.

My grandmother's bracelet was still in my pocket. I pulled it out, unwrapped the cloth, held the cool jade against my palm.

Jade elegance.

Fool.

I didn't cry. I just sat on my narrow bed and stared at the water-stained ceiling and listened to the laundry machines churn.

Hope, that tireless fool, finally went quiet.

The next morning, I woke before dawn.

I put on my faded work clothes. Tied my hair back. Walked to the kitchen and started chopping vegetables.

Auntie Zheng glanced at me once. Twice.

Then she set a cup of tea beside my cutting board and said nothing.