Mated with a human

chapter 26

Gerald’s side…

It was already late when Gerald finally arrived home.

The mansion felt unusually quiet.

As soon as he stepped inside, one of the staff informed him that Cillian had gone out and hadn’t returned yet. Only Dyran was around. Gerald’s jaw tightened as he found him lounging casually, far too relaxed for someone who had skipped work.

“Are you serious about this company,” Gerald asked coldly, “or are you just playing around?”

Dyran barely looked bothered. “I told you, I wasn’t feeling well. Tomorrow I’ll be at work. Relax.”

Gerald studied him for a long moment, his gaze sharp and unreadable. Then he spoke, his voice firm. “Tomorrow morning, first thing—you and your mother are going away on business.”

Dyran paused. “What business?” He frowned. “I don’t know anything about business trips.”

“You’ll learn,” Gerald said flatly. “Start packing. Be ready.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

Dyran stood there, stunned for a second… then laughed under his breath. “Unbelievable,” he murmured to himself. “He really thinks he controls everything.” A smirk tugged at his lips as he shook his head.

Gerald headed straight to his bedroom and called Cillian.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“I visited a friend,” she replied. “I’m on my way back now.”

“Alright,” he said shortly, then ended the call.

He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over him, trying to release the tension building in his body. But even as he closed his eyes, an uneasiness settled deep in his chest.

Something wasn’t right.

Afterward, he dressed and went down to eat supper—but the dining hall was empty. Cillian still hadn’t returned. Dyran wasn’t there either.

Gerald had just lifted his cutlery when the butler burst in, breathless.

“Sir,” he said urgently, “there’s unusual movement in the woods.”

Gerald froze.

He slowly closed his eyes.

So it begins.

Without wasting a second, his mind reached out—finding Cillian’s presence instantly.

Turn around.

Do not come back tonight.

We’re under attack.

Cillian didn’t argue. She turned the car around immediately and headed back toward the city.

Gerald rose from his seat and his voice thundered through the mansion. “Everyone—take your positions!”

The calm shattered.

Guards rushed in, weapons ready. Maids scattered toward the safe rooms. Orders were barked rapidly as Gerald moved with purpose, his aura heavy and commanding.

That was when Dyran appeared, still in his pajamas, confusion written all over his face. “What’s going on?”

Gerald turned to him, dismissing the others with a sharp wave of his hand. His eyes flicked to what Dyran was wearing and he sighed. “Get ready,” he said simply.

Before Dyran could protest, they were already moving.

Outside, the night air was thick—too still. The forest surrounding the mansion felt alive, watching.

The guards formed a line, waiting.

Waiting for their king.

Gerald stepped forward.

And then it happened.

His body shifted violently—bones cracking, muscles expanding. Fur erupted across his skin as his human form disappeared, replaced by a massive, powerful wolf. His golden eyes burned like fire in the darkness.

One by one, the others followed.

Low growls filled the air as wolves emerged—large, fierce, ready.

Even Dyran transformed, though his movements were less controlled, raw power surging through him as his wolf form took shape.

They stood together beneath the moonlight.

Silent.

Deadly.

Waiting.

Whatever was coming from those woods…

It had just declared war.

_______

Sofia’s side…

Dinner was finally over.

Sofia pushed her chair back quietly and stood up before anyone could say anything. “I’ll help clear the table,” she said, already reaching for the plates.

Her aunty looked at her in surprise. “Sofia, no. Leave that. Your parents won’t like it.”

“I don’t mind,” Sofia replied softly, avoiding her parents’ eyes. “Please.”

There was something in her voice—tired, restrained—that made her aunty nod. Together, they carried the dishes into the kitchen. Sofia rolled up her sleeves without another word and turned on the tap.

“I’ll wash,” Sofia said.

“I’ll rinse and dry,” her aunty agreed.

For a while, only the sound of running water and clinking plates filled the space. The silence felt heavy, like Sofia was holding something inside her chest that was too big to keep anymore.

Then she spoke, her voice low.

“Aunty… they want me to get married.”

Her aunty paused for half a second, then continued rinsing a plate, calm. “Your parents?”

Sofia nodded, though her aunty couldn’t see it. “An arranged marriage. They’ve already decided everything. The man. The future. My life.” She let out a small, bitter laugh. “I wasn’t even part of the conversation.”

Her aunty glanced at her, then back to the dishes. “How does that make you feel?”

Sofia swallowed. “Like I don’t exist. Like I’m just… something to be moved from one house to another.” Her hands shook slightly as she scrubbed harder. “They say it’s for my own good. That it’ll give me a simple life. No struggles.”

She scoffed quietly. “But since when is life simple just because someone planned it?”

Her aunty didn’t interrupt. She just listened, exactly what Sofia needed.

“I’m scared,” Sofia admitted. “Not of marriage—but of being trapped. Of waking up one day and realizing I never chose anything for myself.”

She finally looked at her aunty. “Am I being ungrateful? Or selfish?”

Her aunty sighed softly, placing a clean plate on the rack. “No, Sofia. Wanting a say in your own life doesn’t make you selfish.”

Sofia’s eyes burned. “They didn’t even ask me, aunty. They told me. Like my opinion doesn’t matter.”

She shook her head. “They say they’re protecting me… but it feels like they’re controlling me.”

Her aunty leaned against the counter, thoughtful. “Parents sometimes believe love means deciding for their children. They forget that love should also mean listening.”

Sofia bit her lip. “So… are they being fair?”

Before her aunty could answer, a presence filled the doorway.

Her mother stood there, unseen until now, her expression unreadable. She had heard everything.

The words hung in the air between them—raw, honest, impossible to take back.

Sofia hadn’t noticed her yet. She was still staring at the sink, waiting for an answer.

And her mother listened, silently, as her daughter’s truth settled into her heart.

Later that night…

It was already late, far too late for visitors to be leaving.

Brian couldn’t go home, so Sofia’s parents offered him one of the guest rooms. Sofia said nothing about it. She simply excused herself and went straight upstairs.

The first thing she did when she entered her room was lock the door.

Click.

Only then did she breathe.

She dropped her bag on the chair, changed into something comfortable, and sat at her desk with her schoolwork spread out in front of her. She tried to focus—numbers, words, anything—but her mind kept drifting. Luke’s eyes. The locker room. Brian’s smirk. Her parents’ silence.

Time passed quietly.

Too quietly.

Then—

Knock. Knock.

Sofia froze, pen hovering over the page.

She didn’t move.

Another knock came, firmer this time.

Her heart sank. Her parents never knocked on her door this late. Her aunty was definitely asleep. Slowly, she glanced at the clock on her desk.

12:00 a.m.

Her brows knitted together.

It’s him.

Her face went cold, every trace of warmth draining away. She didn’t get up. She didn’t answer. She simply turned back to her work as if the sound hadn’t reached her ears.

The knocking came again.

She ignored it.

Minutes passed. The hallway outside remained silent, then finally—footsteps retreating.

Only then did Sofia release the breath she’d been holding.

She closed her books, exhaustion settling deep into her bones. Crawling into bed, she pulled the blanket over herself, her body tense even as sleep slowly claimed her.