Chapter 0094

The moment I step into the Sinclair residence, it's obvious Evelyn has dressed up for my arrival. She's breathtaking on any ordinary day, but tonight her golden hair cascades in perfect waves, her lips painted a soft rose. The sight of her steals my breath.

Grant Sinclair raises an eyebrow when he sees me. I'm prepared for his interrogation, but what shocks me is how Evelyn immediately positions herself between us—a living shield. Her voice carries steel as she tells her father in no uncertain terms that if he has any objections to my presence, we'll take our dinner elsewhere.

Her fierce protectiveness warms my chest even as it twists my gut. The concept of having a Guardian—a warrior equal who'd fight beside me—thrilled me when I first learned of it. The reality is far more brutal. This woman who holds my soul in her hands would willingly throw herself into danger for me. Unacceptable. I'm the future Alpha of Blackthorn Pack. Protecting everyone, especially my mate and future Luna, is my sacred duty.

When I try to sidestep her, she shifts seamlessly to block me again. Across the room, my father Alistair observes this dance with keen interest. Thankfully, Grant chooses that moment to defuse the tension, and Evelyn tugs me toward the dining room.

While she searches for a vase, I study the cozy living space. Unlike the pack house's communal halls, this home feels intimate. Private. The thought of building our own den together someday takes root in my mind—somewhere we could raise our pups away from prying eyes. I'd never considered living separately before, but the idea suddenly feels essential.

"Smell that?" Evelyn asks as she arranges the flowers.

I inhale deeply. Beneath the aromas of seared meat and herbs lies her unique scent—vanilla and storm winds—that instantly calms the restless energy thrumming through me. "Not the steaks," I tease when she mentions them. Her eyes sparkle when she admits to making lobster mac and cheese, a dish she knows I adore. The realization that she planned this meal specifically to please me sends heat rushing through my veins.

Unable to resist, I close the distance between us in two strides. My hands find her waist as she melts against me with a soft sigh, her palms flat against my chest. The sweet musk of her arousal floods my senses, and for one dangerous moment, I consider forgetting about dinner entirely. But the murmur of our fathers' voices just beyond the door forces me to step back.

We're setting the table when Alistair and Grant return with the grilled steaks. The rich aromas make my mouth water. No wonder my father guards his Thursday nights so jealously—if I'd known he was being fed like royalty, I'd have crashed these dinners months ago.

I brace myself when Grant asks about being Evelyn's "mystery man," but the conversation takes an unexpected turn. Watching our fathers interact fascinates me. Alistair rarely lets his guard down, yet here he seems... relaxed. It's a stark reminder of how isolating leadership can be. Another reason the Luna's role proves vital—she provides the partnership an Alpha can't find elsewhere, save perhaps with his Beta.