CHAPTER 201: _ EVERYBODY’S WEIRD

Darien closes his eyes, feeling the truth in that. Protecting her means swallowing his pride, maybe even apologizing to his brothers which is a thought that makes him want to punch a wall. Still, he’ll do it. He has to.

When he finally steps out of the shower, steam fills the mirror. He wipes a hand across it, revealing his reflection, and sees the water dripping from his jawline, the faint scars across his collarbone catching the light. He looks... tired, maybe. But determined.

He towels off, dresses in a black shirt and dark trousers, the kind his mother insists "reflects dignity." His sleeves are rolled to the elbow, revealing the wolf sigil tattoo on his forearm. The Alpha’s mark. The thing he’s spent his whole life proving he deserves.

He ties his hair back loosely at the nape of his neck, runs a hand down his front, and exhales.

Breakfast with the family is the one ritual he’s never skipped. His mother insists on unity, even if it’s forced unity. A unity he knows she also deep down doesn’t give a bat shit about, but to maintain appearances, Ines would do anything. Even if it means sitting across from a table with Luna Clarissa, her most hated rival in the house along with the carefree Luna Rayne who does nothing but irritate Ines—along with Amias, Grayson, and Morgan, their kids.

Everyone must show up, no excuses. Usually, Darisn doesn’t mind. Today, though, he’s got bigger things on his mind than eggs and social niceties.

He opens the door, stepping into the hall... and immediately halts. Because there she is.

Not Heidi, unfortunately. Not that one would expect her to be in the Alpha’s estate anyway. This morning’s surprise greets him in the form of Luna Clarissa — Amias’s mother, the so-called "sadist of the family" and an ongoing cautionary tale whispered among pack daughters.

Clarissa stands halfway down the corridor, humming cheerfully, dressed like she’s heading to a gala rather than breakfast. Her satin robe is a soft shade of rose gold and catches the light. Her hair is glossy and perfectly styled. It tumbles down her back. She’s wearing diamonds. At eight in the morning.

Darien blinks.

Kairos mutters in his head, "Is it just me, or does she look... alive?"

"She looks happy," Darien answers under his breath, still half-stunned. "Which is terrifying."

Because Luna Clarissa hasn’t looked truly happy since her infamous scandal thirteen years ago — the one involving a servant, a forbidden affair, and a near-duel between her father and the Alpha. The fallout left her reputation in tatters, and Amias with more emotional scars than anyone cared to count.

And yet here she is. Humming. Radiant. Almost glowing.

Except... not quite. As Darien looks closer, he notices it. The leanness around her face. The slight hollowness under her eyes. There’s something brittle under all that sparkle.

Still, she smiles when she spots him. "Darien, darling!"

She sings his name like she’s performing on stage.

He straightens instinctively which is what years of etiquette drilled into him by his mother kick in. "Luna Clarissa," he greets politely, nodding. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you too!" she chirps, her tone so bright it could burn holes in reality. "Isn’t it a beautiful day?"

Darien hesitates, glancing toward the window. "It’s... decent."

"Decent?" She gasps as though he’s insulted the moon itself. "Darien Bellamy, you are the most joyless creature I’ve ever met. And I’ve met the Elder Council."

Kairos snickers. "She’s not wrong."

Darien suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. "I’ll try to be more enthusiastic next time."

She waves her hand dismissively, her bracelets chiming. "Don’t bother. I quite like you morose. It’s charming, in a tragic sort of way."

He blinks again. "Thank you?"

She beams, clearly pleased with herself, and turns, humming as she glides down the hall directly toward Amias’s room.

That makes Darien pause.

He watches her go, noting the sway in her hips, the faint tremor in her hand when she adjusts her robe. For all her performative cheer, something’s off. There’s a fragility under the surface, like she’s holding herself together with perfume and defiance.

Still, seeing her this way; light, even flirtatious is surreal.

Kairos adds thoughtfully. "She’s happy. That can’t be good."

"Nothing in this house ever is," Darien mutters, then sighs and continues toward the stairs.

As he walks, the familiar scent of coffee, warm bread, and spiced venison wafts from the dining hall below. It’s a comforting smell. It’s the smell of home, duty, and mild dread all wrapped in one. The house is alive already; servants hurry past carrying platters, their heads bowed respectfully as he passes. The marble floors gleam. Paintings of ancestors line the walls, watching him with solemn, judging eyes.

He can almost hear them whispering, The heir of Ines. The serious one. The dutiful one. The one who never smiles.

Well, not today. Today, duty’s about to look like mutiny.

By the time he reaches the grand staircase, the estate is fully awake. The low hum of chatter, clinking silverware, and the distant laughter of his sisters somewhere down the west wing. Everything looks perfectly ordinary. It almost convinces him that he isn’t planning to start a family alliance for the sake of a girl his mother would kill on sight.

Almost.

He grips the bannister and descends, his movements measured, his mind already working through the conversation he’ll have after breakfast. How do you convince three grown wolves who barely tolerate each other to work together for a Moon Blessed girl who shouldn’t even exist in their world?

"Carefully," Kairos offers helpfully.

Darien huffs a laugh. "Or violently."

"I’d say both. You’re good at both."

When he reaches the bottom step, he pauses again, the faint echo of Clarissa’s humming still drifting from upstairs. He wonders, for just a fleeting moment — what could make a woman like her suddenly sing. Maybe she’s found peace. Or maybe she’s hiding something.

Either way, it’s not his business. Not today.

Today, his focus is singular: Heidi. Protecting her. Rallying his brothers. Surviving his family.