CHAPTER 279: COULDN’T SWALLOW THE JABS

Meredith.

The dining hall was filled with the faint clatter of cutlery with everyone else minding their business and fixing their full attention on the food in their plate.

But my attention wad divided, between the food on my plate and Wanda.

It had been a surprise when I first saw her seated in her usual position at the table. I never thought she would show up given the fact on ground that Draven was sending her away tomorrow.

I considered she would be furious to the extent of sitting dinner out, but here she was, shoulders drawn inward, her usual poise completely diminished.

Wanda didn’t even try to speak a word, and she hardly even lifted her gaze.

Every movement she made, the way she reached for her goblet, the way she cut into her food was tentative, as though she feared she might break something if she pressed too firmly.

I found myself staring at her more than once, studying her silently. She wasn’t just quiet, she had shrunken in on herself.

And it was then I knew without a doubt that Draven’s decision to send her back to Stormveil had gutted her. She wasn’t masking it at all like I had initially thought.

Wanda was truly unhappy.

The realization sent a quiet ripple of relief through me, though I schooled my expression quickly and lowered my eyes back to my plate.

Finally, after it felt like today’s dinner would end silently and peacefully, Mabel’s fork against porcelain broke the silence.

She looked across the table and fixed her gaze on Draven, her eyes bright with what she thought was charm.

"I took a tour of your estate earlier today," she said lightly. "It’s beautiful. And I noticed you have such a large expanse of land."

Draven didn’t even lift his gaze. He only hummed a low acknowledgment, and gave a curt nod before returning to his meal.

A short awkward silence followed until Gary spoke. "Did you buy this land," he asked Draven bluntly, "or was it gifted to you?"

My fork froze halfway to my lips. I darted a glance at my brother, stunned at his audacity to ask Draven something like that so directly and boldly. It was reckless of him.

My heart drummed faster, but I kept quiet and waited while wondering if Draven would actually answer him or tell him off.

Dennis was the one who broke the tension. "Why the sudden interest in my brother’s house, Gary?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual as he leaned back in his chair.

Gary’s expression didn’t falter. "Because it seems unlikely that the Humans would let a werewolf own this much property right here in their territory."

The words hung over the table like a spark in dry wood, as if daring the air itself to catch fire.

Then Draven finally lifted his gaze. "None of that matters now," he said, his tone steady and calm. "Because in the end, we are moving back home to Stormveil."

I felt the subtle shift in the room, and for most, that would have been enough to end the matter. But oh Gary never knew when to stop.

"But I still want to know to know you managed to get this property," he pressed, his voice edged with a false casualness that fooled no one.

"Because if the war ever ends and we Weres, return to Duskmoor again, I will want to get my own estate here. This piece of information would be useful to me then."

My stomach twisted. Gary had lost his mind. Completely.

Heat prickled the back of my neck as shame washed through me. I silently wished I could distance myself from him entirely. I wished no one at this table knew he was my brother.

Draven’s reply came slow and deliberate. "Then you can wait till that time," he said clearly with finality in his voice, leaving no room for argument.

But Gary’s face soured with dissatisfaction. His lips parted like he was about to push further when Wanda’s voice suddenly cut through the air.

She sneered as she turned her head, her sharp gaze fixing on Gary.

"You seem to think you and Alpha Draven are on the same level," she said coldly. "None of you know your place. You are all the same."

I scoffed inwardly, though I kept my expression calm.

Of course, even in her sour and defeated mood, Wanda still had enough venom in her to spit at others. I should have expected this.

It was so like her to toss her insults in a way that scraped against me too because I was sitting right here, and I was a sibling to the person she spoke of.

A leopard truly can’t change its spots, no matter the storm that raged.

The silence after Wanda’s barb was thick enough to choke on. My eyes then accidentally drifted to Gary, and what I saw sent a ripple through me.

His jaw was clenched, his fists, probably tight against his thighs, his expression dark with anger directed at Wanda.

For a fleeting moment, I thought he might keep his mouth shut, might tolerate the insult for the sake of peace.

But no, my brother couldn’t swallow the jabs.

His voice cut through the quiet like a sharp blade. "You don’t know your place either."

My fork froze halfway to my lips as heat shot through my chest, a mixture of surprise and a little embarrassment.

My own brother, has the time to exchange words with Wanda right here, in front of everyone?

Wanda’s eyes glittered. She leaned back in her chair with a mocking tilt of her chin.

"Why don’t you behave like a civilized wolf, Gary? When you come to a civilized city, try to act like it. And remember, I am older than you. Show some respect."

I darted a glance toward Xamira. The little girl was completely absorbed in picking apart her chicken leg, tearing the meat away with quiet determination.

Relief trickled through me. At least she wasn’t paying attention to this ridiculous, humiliating spectacle.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder, when would this argument end? Or would it burn until the whole table went up in flames?