Across the table, Eric leaned back in his chair. "I don't trust you anymore, Mum," he said finally. "You're getting rather desperate for an heir. I just don't want a repeat of you putting some weird aphrodisiac in my food, especially now that there's a woman in the room next to mine."
"Honestly, Eric," she sighed. "You make it sound like I slipped you poison."
"Speaking of which, is our guest going to starve to death?"
Claudia dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin, pretending not to notice the faint curiosity in his voice. "She should be down any moment," she said airily. "Alice is helping her prepare."
Eric's brow arched. "When you say prepare, I'm guessing you mean seductive enough to catch my attention."
"Whatever works, Eric," Claudia said matter-of-factly, pouring herself more wine.
He smirked. "You know," he drawled, "I could fuck her just to spite you. Spill my seed on the sheets and send them to you."
"Don't forget," Claudia said coldly, "you're speaking to your mother."
"A mother who drugged me," Eric shot back.
"For your own good!" she snapped. "For the good of this family! For the good of your people!"
"My people?" he repeated. "Mother, my people don't need me to fuck a stranger to save them."
"You don't understand what's at stake. The council—"
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Eric muttered. The blade of his fork sank deep into the tender meat, releasing a faint hiss of steam — and then it hit him. That scent. Sweet, clean, and maddeningly warm. The wolf inside him stirred instantly, muscles tightening, pulse quickening. His nostrils flared before he could stop himself. She was close.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on his plate, on the heavy cutlery, on anything but the pull crawling under his skin. His wolf was pacing now, restless. He still didn't understand what all the fuss was about her.
"Sera, sweetie…" Claudia smiled, watching her son from the corner of her eye. Her every move was performance, every word designed to draw blood. "Benedict, dear, please pull out that chair for Sera," she said smoothly, gesturing toward the empty chair beside Eric.
Eric's grip tightened around his fork. Without looking up, he extended his arm lazily and pointed to the far end of the table — the chair beside Claudia. His message was clear. Stay away from me.
Benedict froze halfway to the chair, his eyes darting between mother and son. "Uh…" he began, uncertain.
Sera stood at the edge of the dining room, torn between politeness and panic. The long table stretched before her. She wasn't sure whether to sit, run, or curtsy.
Claudia's sharp glare cut across the room, freezing Benedict in place. The man immediately understood which side of power he stood on. "Of course, ma'am," he murmured, pulling out the chair beside Eric despite the younger man's cold defiance.
Eric didn't flinch, though the muscle in his jaw ticked dangerously. Sera hesitated for a second before finally sinking into the chair, her pulse hammering in her throat.
Alice appeared, setting down Sera's plate. She spooned a portion of food neatly and poured fresh juice into a glass, pretending not to notice the palpable tension filling the room.
"Thank you," Sera murmured softly.
Eric still hadn't looked at her. He cut another piece of steak, mechanical and detached, his focus fixed entirely on his plate.
Sera tried to act unfazed, picking up her fork with trembling fingers. She focused on her meal, but her gaze kept flicking toward him — the line of his jaw, the veins along his wrist, the effortless way he exuded quiet power.
Claudia leaned back in her chair, sipping her wine. "Isn't this nice?" she mused aloud.
Eric's knife scraped against the plate.
"Sera, your mother and I didn't have the time to speak. How come I have never seen you before?" Claudia's eyes, sharp and calculating beneath carefully arched brows, flicked toward her son, then back to the girl at his side.
Sera swallowed hard. "My mum is quite protective," she said carefully, forcing a polite smile even as adrenaline still coursed through her veins. "This is the first time she's allowed me to leave the house alone. And clearly…" Her cheeks heated as she looked down at the table, "I wasn't exactly prepared."
"Nonsense, dear. It was just a simple misunderstanding. Mrs. Thorne and Miss Duvall simply overreacted."
"I'm glad it's all cleared up," she murmured. She hesitated, then dared to look toward Eric. "Any idea when I can go back home?"
Finally, Eric looked up. And the moment his gaze fell on her, he felt it—a sharp, involuntary catch in his chest. She had let her hair fall loose over her shoulders, soft waves framing a face that now held a strange, breath-stealing serenity. The dress she wore clung just enough to hint at curves, modest yet daring, and revealed bare shoulders with the gentlest suggestion of cleavage. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, growling at his own restraint. He blinked, shaking his head.
Claudia, seated at the other end of the table, smiled, eyes glinting with triumph. It didn't matter how grown, stubborn, or dangerous her son was; mothers always found ways to influence events, subtle as a whisper, powerful as a storm.
"Your mother says you are a virgin," Eric said abruptly.
"Yes," Sera answered. She felt the tension in the air, that strange, vibrating pull between her and Eric. Her pulse raced, a wild rhythm she could feel in the tips of her ears, and yet she forced herself to meet his gaze.
"Then when the doctor gets here tomorrow and confirms that, you can leave," Eric said, leaning back slightly.
"Okay," she murmured.
Claudia cleared her throat, rising from her seat. "I'm going to get an early night," she said smoothly. "Today has been quite tedious." Her eyes briefly flicked to Eric, a tiny smirk teasing the corner of her mouth, the unspoken power in her glance making it clear she knew exactly the effect Sera had on him — and that she intended to manipulate it.