CHAPTER 267: A WORD IN PRIVATE

Draven.

Meredith’s hand was still in mine when we stepped into the dining hall.

The air shifted the same way it always did when I entered a room—quiet reverence, unspoken tension. But I didn’t release her, not until I pulled out the chair at my right for her.

She sat gracefully, and I let my hand brush her shoulder for a fleeting second before taking my place at the head.

"Sit," I ordered, my voice low but final. Chairs scraped, and then silence settled.

As soon as the servants served the food, I gave the order for everyone to start eating.

And immediately, the clatter of cutlery followed, steady and unremarkable.

There were no whispered barbs or sly glances tossed my wife’s way. Not even Wanda dared to test me this morning. It was a bit strange, but I welcomed it.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Meredith leaning toward Xamira, quietly piling more chicken strips onto her plate. She didn’t even notice me watching as she was too absorbed in making sure the child ate properly.

My chest tightened unexpectedly at the sight. She would make a good mother. Not someday. Not in theory. Meredith—my wife—would make a remarkable mother to our children.

I forced myself to look away, spearing a cut of meat with deliberate calm. It wouldn’t do for anyone to catch me softening at the table.

The meal ended without incident. S

The servants began to clear the plates while serving dessert when Mabel finally lifted her chin and fixed her eyes on me.

"Alpha Draven," she said sweetly, too sweetly, "I would really like a tour of your estate. Everything here seems... fascinating."

Her tone was light, but I knew the game. A test. A way to pry, to measure what I had.

"Some areas are restricted for guests," I replied evenly, not bothering to hide the steel in my voice. "But Dennis will take you and Gary on a tour later today."

Mabel’s smile wavered, faltered just enough for me to see the irritation flash in her eyes. Gary shifted in his chair, equally displeased.

I leaned back, folding one arm over the other. "And until then, both of you will keep to the living room and your assigned bedrooms. Nowhere else."

The words dropped like stone into water, ripples spreading across the table. Mabel’s lips pressed into a thin line. Gary’s jaw tightened. Neither spoke, and neither dared to challenge me no matter their misgivings.

I didn’t give a damn about their unhappiness. Let them stew. Let them feel the boundaries of this house wrap around them like chains.

This was my home, my estate. Therefore they have no choice but to abide by my rules or return to Stormveil.

I returned my focus to Meredith.

She sat straighter than I’d ever seen her, her chin lifted with quiet pride. I caught the flicker in her siblings’ eyes—the disbelief at seeing her treated as she deserved.

Their stares had been sharp the moment I’d pulled her chair out for her, and now, with every subtle brush of respect I gave her, it was as though I’d struck at the image they never thought to see her.

I would even prefer they choke on it.

What pleased me most, though, was Meredith herself. She didn’t shrink beneath their stares. She didn’t fidget. Instead, she wore her composure like armor.

There was even a faint curve at her lips, one she tried to hide from me but couldn’t. I saw it. And I let her see me noticing.

It was the smallest exchange—her confidence blooming, my acknowledgment of it—but in that brief moment, I knew her siblings realized the truth. Meredith was no longer theirs to ridicule.

She was mine, and untouchable.

The scraping of chairs cut into the quiet as servants began clearing the last dishes. Just as I was about to dismiss everyone, Wanda’s voice broke across the room.

"Alpha," she said carefully, her tone polite but edged with something tighter. "May I have a word with you? In private."

A murmur seemed to pass through the air, though no one dared speak out. I turned my gaze to her, studying her expression which was too smooth, too calculated.

"Follow me to my study," I said flatly, rising from my chair.

But before leaving, I shifted my attention back to Meredith. Her purple eyes lifted to mine, steady despite the eyes still watching her.

I allowed myself a smile, deliberate and warm, for her alone.

"I will come and find you later," I told her, voice softening only for her ears.

She nodded once, her calm composure unbroken, but I caught the faint light in her eyes and that was enough.

Turning, I strode out, Wanda’s footsteps following close behind, her silence already heavy with the storm she intended to bring.

---

I closed the door to my study with a quiet thud as soon as we entered.

Wanda stood just inside, stiff-backed, her chin tilted up in that familiar mix of defiance and wounded pride.

Her sharp and defensive eyes snapped to mine.

"Draven, you should have told me," she began, her voice steady but edged. "About Madame Beatrice. You brought her here without a word as though I’d been cast aside. Do you know how that made me look? In front of the others? In front of—"

I cut her off with nothing more than a slow and unyielding look.

"This my home, Wanda— my affairs. My decisions," I said evenly, each word measured like the strike of a hammer. "I don’t owe you advance notice to act as I see fit."

Then I watched the impact land. Her lips parted slightly, and for the briefest second, I saw it—the surprise. She hadn’t expected blunt dismissal. Not from me.

But she should have.

Just looking at her soured something deep in my chest. That familiar rage stirred—not loud, not wild, but steady and cold.

Betrayal had a way of staining everything it touched, and Wanda’s face was no longer what it once was to me.

Her breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but I caught it.

"I learned something when I returned to Stormveil," I said, my tone lowering, quiet but heavy enough to press between us like a blade against her throat. "Something unforgivable."

The shift was instant. Her pulse kicked, hard and uneven, loud to my ears. The rhythm betrayed her—faster, sharper. Nervousness hidden beneath her composed exterior.

I let the silence linger, feeding it like kindling to a fire. Let her nerves steep. Let her imagination torture her more than my words ever could.

Then I tilted my head, my eyes never leaving hers.

"Do you want to hear it?"