CHAPTER 248: YOU!

Ronan loved him, he knew that. They were mates. And though he was jealous, he made sure to hide it. He found it cute.

Riven lay nestled between two very territorial protectors: Ronan on the left, chest rising and falling in gentle slumber, Soren on the right, curled inwards, hugging him.

Riven blinked at the warmth on either side and sighed. His stomach rumbled loud enough to wake up his mate.

They were both still half-asleep and... Well, best not to wake them up, he could not take another fight.

He tuned out his stomach’s repeated grumbles, inhaling the quiet hum of their combined breaths instead. But the third rumble was emphatic. With that, he might as well wake them himself.

Sure enough, Ronan was the first to stir. His icy-blue eyes flickered open at the noise, instantly aware.

"Hungry?"

He whispered close to Riven’s ear, tone soft. Ronan shifted away, careful not to disturb Soren too much, and pressed a gentle kiss to Riven’s forehead. "I’ll bring something to eat. Right away."

Riven’s heart warmed.

Ronan barely paused before he eased himself out of bed, moving quickly to secure some food.

Within minutes, Ronan returned, carrying a tray piled high with sizzling steaks, medium rare, just the way Riven liked—and a selection of soft pastries, fresh fruits, and cool jam for variety. He also set out a plate of lean meat and berries for Soren. Riven’s jaw dropped a bit at the sight.

Ronan caught his glance. With a proud half-smile, he explained, "I know how you love steak. I already ordered the cooks to prepare your favourites." Ronan brought food for Soren too. He hoped it’ll earn him some brownie points for bringing that annoying pest some food and not being petty. And it worked. Riven was touched! He did not want to witness a fight when he already felt sick and tired.

So kind of Ronan to be the bigger person!

Riven sat up and was about to scoot closer to the food when Soren woke up.

Soren awakened just in time to meet his gaze, and the slow curve of a smile touched his mouth. He turned to see Ronan in the same room, and the smile was quickly replaced with a small frown.

He turned slightly away from Ronan, curling closer to Riven. His expression turned sharp, defensive; when Riven gently urged Soren awake, he complied, aware of the tension but refusing to let it show.

"Good," Soren said, eyes cool but voice even. He took the plate and shifted it closer to Riven’s side so he wouldn’t have to face Ronan. "Thanks," he added, but tension crackled like static through the air.

Another rumble from Riven’s stomach interrupted the tension.

Riven flushed slightly, the room’s emotional undercurrents suddenly overwhelming. "Sorry, I’m just so hungry..."

Ronan, trying to lighten the mood, started carving a steak. "Here, you first, mate." He sliced off a bit and held it out on a fork. "Try this."

Soren quickly leaned in and took the bite, leaving both Riven and Ronan stunned. Riven had to hold back his laughter, the situation was just that absurd. Soren was a petty King, and he loved it.

Riven took the fork and knife, sliced off a bite for himself, ignoring the two men. He needed food, and he was going to ignore the situation because to him, his stomach was more important.

Riven reached gratefully, savouring the tender meat, flavoured perfectly with those familiar spices Ronan had learned he liked. One bite, and a grin spread across his face.

"Oh, Ronan," Riven moaned with delight. "It’s perfect." Hah... Food is good.

Ronan’s lips curved into a grin as he watched Riven enjoy the steak, but the way Soren’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly at his actions wasn’t missed. Ronan met that stare head-on, letting his wolf peek through for just a moment, a silent challenge.

Soren didn’t blink. He reached forward without breaking eye contact, plucking a ripe, dark berry from his plate and popping it into his mouth with slow, deliberate grace. Then, before Riven could even shift back into his seat, Soren curled an arm around his waist and pulled him into his lap with ease.

"Feed me," Soren said, voice low and commanding in a way that brushed up against a dangerous edge. His chin rested on Riven’s shoulder, eyes still locked onto Ronan’s.

Riven blinked. "Wait, what—?"

But Soren was already tilting his head back slightly, mouth parted expectantly.

Ronan’s smile twitched, the sharpness of his teeth peeking through as he watched Riven reluctantly pick up a slice of steak with his fork. As Riven raised the fork to his own lips, clearly intending to taste it himself, Ronan struck. He leaned forward quickly and bit down on the piece of steak—his teeth brushing the metal of the fork, lips nearly brushing Riven’s fingers.

He chewed slowly, gaze never leaving Soren’s.

The implication was obvious. Same fork. Same closeness. Same claim.

Soren’s jaw tightened, his arms pulling Riven even closer to his chest as if to remind Ronan who was holding him right now.

"Are you kidding me?!" Riven suddenly snapped, voice rising.

Both men turned to look at him, startled. Riven’s face was flushed with frustration, not affection.

First, it was Soren who stole his food, but now it was Ronan! He wanted to eat! Let him eat! He was hungry!

He shoved the fork into the plate and wiggled out of Soren’s hold with surprising force. Once on his feet, he planted his hands on his hips and glared first at Soren. "You!"

Then he turned his glare to Ronan. "And you!"

Ronan opened his mouth to speak, but Riven held up a hand.

"No. No explanations. You two—" He pointed between them, then at the plates. "—are insane. I’m starving. You’ve both hands and mouth, so eat it by yourself! And I will eat by myself!"

Neither of them uttered a single word, but they listened to him. They had a fairly peaceful lunch...