Chapter 3
As it turned out, an Alpha's decree wasn't something a mere mortal could refuse.
While I was still reeling from "My son is a half-werewolf, his father is the Alpha," Lucas had unilaterally declared our cohabitation officially begun.
Before I knew it, my luggage and Ollie's tons of toys had been moved into the palatial manor. Lucas casually mentioned it was just one of his human residences.
All, as he put it, "for the convenience of taking care of my pup and my mate."
I protested. I struggled. I even plotted a midnight escape with Ollie.
But I chickened out whenever I met Lucas's casual golden-eyed glance.
The sheer dominance in his gaze promised: One step outside, and he'd shift and drag me back by scruff.
And so, Ollie and I began our ridiculous cohabitation under Lucas' so-called "werewolf-style house arrest."
As the Alpha, Lucas kept odd hours, often leaving early and returning late.
Yet his "care" for us was overbearing to the point of absurdity.
Take breakfast, for example.
On the first morning, still bleary-eyed from being woken by Ollie, I stumbled into the dining room to find the long table laden with... an array of meats.
Yes. Meats.
Steak, lamb chops, roasted chicken, sashimi, and even a plate of raw, bloody chunks of some unidentifiable animal.
I was speechless. Ollie's eyes, however, lit up. "Mommy, this looks yummy," he said, pointing at the raw meat.
I nearly choked on my own breath.
Lucas, impeccably dressed in loungewear, was elegantly slicing a rare steak. "Try it. Freshly hunted," he said, looking up.
My eye twitched. "Mr. Blackwood, humans generally don't... eat this for breakfast."
Lucas frowned. "Not to your taste? Pups need ample protein."
He clearly put Ollie and me under his "werewolf-nurturing" standards.
I took a deep breath. "Ollie's half-werewolf. I'm 100% human! We need grains, veggies, fruit—a balanced diet!"
Lucas set down his utensils, studied me thoughtfully, then nodded. "Got it."
The next morning, meat still dominated, but now the table also held a lonely plate of steamed broccoli and a bowl of oatmeal.
I eyed the sad little greens and oatmeal, then the mountain of meat, and lost in thought.
Did His Royal Highness the Alpha confuse "balanced diet" with "carnivore buffet"?
Beyond diet, Lucas' "werewolf-style care" extended elsewhere.
He'd appear behind me like a specter.
Showering once, I turned, and a tall figure stood just outside the frosted glass. I almost hurled my loofah.
"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled through the frosted glass.
"Your protection," came Lucas' dead-serious reply from behind the door.
"Protection from what while I shower?"
"The mother of my heir and Luna of the Moonlight Pack stays guarded, always."
Damn it. I never asked to be wrapped in this much werewolf drama.
Then there was his "territory patrol."
Every night, he'd walk every inch of the manor with the focus of an alpha canine guarding his domain.
Once, while fetching water at midnight, I found him standing in the living room, staring out at the moon, lost in thought.
Moonlight bathed him in a silver halo, his golden eyes gleaming in the darkness.
Right then, he shed all traces of humanity—just a solitary wolf bathed in moonlight, radiating both aching loneliness and something dangerously magnetic.
The realization hit me like a shock, and I had to remind myself that he was just a freaking werewolf.
What drove me craziest was his "alpha-style parenting" for Ollie.
Ollie shattered a cup. As I opened my mouth to scold him, Lucas walked over, ruffled Ollie's hair with pride, and grinned, "Good grip. That's my pup."
I fell silent.
Ollie bounced on the sofa, nearly shredding new pillows.
Just as I was about to snap, Lucas chimed in, "Full of energy. Good."
"Lucas Blackwood." I snapped. "Could you try human parenting?"
He looked at me with feigned innocence. "All werewolf pups learn hunting and survival through roughhousing and a bit of destruction."
I facepalmed.
My bad for expecting a werewolf to understand human parenting.