CHAPTER 207: _ BELLAMY BROTHERS, UNITE

Darien’s focus sharpens as footsteps echo from the dining room again. This time, it’s two sets, synchronized, cocky, and unmistakable. The twins emerge with their mother, Rayne, trailing between them like a diplomat escorting her own chaos. Morgan’s grin is already halfway to mischief. Grayson’s, cooler, edged with entertainment. Rayne looks like she’s trying very hard not to throttle both.

Darien straightens. "Halt. I need to speak with you."

Morgan freezes mid-step, his expression instantly dramatic. "Oh, he needs to speak with us. Sounds ominous."

Grayson lifts a brow. "Can we skip the mystery and go straight to the yelling?"

"Neither," Darien says. "You’ll know after I’ve spoken to you. Rayne, could you..."

Rayne’s gaze slides from the eldest to her younger sons, faintly exasperated. "Should I assume this is about pack matters or family idiocy?"

"Bit of both," Morgan offers helpfully.

Rayne sighs, long-suffering. "I raised wolves, not diplomats. Fine. I’ll see you boys later."

Morgan leans down to kiss her cheek. "You’re the best mother we’ve ever had."

"You’ve only got one," she says, swatting him lightly on the arm. "Don’t make me regret it."

As her footsteps fade down the corridor, the twins shift back into their more feral ease with hands in their pockets, eyes bright with the shared energy that’s gotten them into trouble since childhood. Grayson looks at Darien, half serious now. "This better be worth it."

"It will be," Darien says.

The dining room doors open again. Amias steps out with his mother beside him. Clarissa looks freshly smug, as though she’s just claimed a silent victory inside. Her perfume trails like something sharp and expensive.

Darien’s patience thins. "You too, Amias. We need to talk."

Clarissa arches a brow. "About what, exactly?"

"Something between us," Darien says. His tone carries enough Alpha edge to make the air hum.

Amias glances at his mother. "Go ahead. I’ll join you soon."

Clarissa hesitates because she doesn’t like leaving her son alone with Darien, not after the tension between his mother and her. It almost looks like she’ll decline until she finally nods, brushing invisible dust off her sleeve. "Don’t be long."

The door closes behind her and silence settles. It’s just the four of them now... the Bellamy sons.

Kairos stirs in Darien’s chest. "Now we’re getting somewhere."

Darien jerks his head toward the far hallway. "Follow me."

Morgan groans dramatically. "Are we marching to an execution?"

"Depends on how fast you walk," Darien mutters.

They trail behind him, boots striking rhythm on marble. The house creaks faintly in the kind of ancient structure that always sounds like it’s whispering about its dead. The scent of polished wood, smoke, and old books grows stronger as Darien leads them to the west wing and to their father’s study.

The twins exchange a look. Grayson mutters under his breath, "He’s taking us to the study. This is either serious or suicidal."

"Maybe both," Morgan says.

Inside, the study is dimly lit, books crowding every wall. The fireplace crackles low, throwing amber across the rug. The air smells faintly of whiskey and wolf musk as expected of an Alpha territory.

Darien turns, leaning back against the heavy oak desk. "We need to talk."

Morgan sprawls into an armchair like a man preparing for a lecture he plans to sleep through. "If this is about us announcing our claim on Heidi..."

Grayson interrupts, half-grinning. "Darien started it, and we won’t reach a compromise."

"Exactly," Morgan agrees. "May the best man win."

Argh... these idiots!

Darien exhales slowly. He expected this. "You’re both idiots."

"Thank you," Morgan says brightly. "We try."

Grayson smirks. "At least we’re not brooding ourselves into ulcers."

Kairos growls in his chest at that, and Darien’s eyes flash briefly gold. "You think this is a game?"

Morgan opens his mouth, then shuts it, because there’s something in Darien’s tone that could freeze running water. The air feels denser now, packed tight with Alpha command.

Amias, who’s been quiet so far, finally speaks. "It’s not a game. But neither is what you’re doing."

Darien looks at him sharply. "Meaning?"

"You’re acting like you’re the only one who understands what’s at stake," Amias points out. "You’re not."

Darien studies him. "You didn’t even look at her the way we did. Don’t pretend you understand."

Amias’s jaw tightens. "You think I don’t feel it? That bond is a curse, Darien. You should be careful what you glorify."

Morgan leans forward, grinning like a hyena circling the scent of blood. "Careful, brother. You sound like someone regretting a choice."

"Maybe I am."

The admission halts even the air. The twins exchange looks, twin sparks of intrigue lighting between them.

Darien steps closer. "Then why agree to marry Lira?"

That seems like a question that ignites a genuine reaction from Amias. He visibly gulps, fumbles before muttering a... "Because sometimes duty outweighs desire."

Kairos scoffs in Darien’s head. "What noble garbage."

Darien’s lip curls slightly. "Duty doesn’t require stupidity."

Amias rises from his chair, eyes glinting. "You think I want this? You think I asked for any of it?"

Morgan whistles softly. "And the tension explodes."

"Shut up," Darien snaps.

Grayson chuckles under his breath. "He’s serious, brother. Duck."

But Darien doesn’t move to strike. He’s never the first to except for that one exception when he lost his mate after finding out the twins marked Heidi. He just stares at Amias right now, chest rising and falling like a man holding back his wolf by threads. The fire throws moving gold across their faces, two reflections of the same inheritance; both heirs, both burning

Morgan swings a leg over the arm of his chair. "Well, if anyone’s keeping score, I vote we stop fighting and focus on the real prize—Heidi. She’s probably somewhere blissfully unaware we’re about to destroy each other over her."

Grayson laughs. "She’d probably punch us all if she knew."

"True," Morgan chuckles. "She punches well. You should confirm that from the NAY boys’ sisters. Oh, gosh. That girl is constantly proving how resourceful she is."

"She kicked the asses of our enemies’ sisters and my love for her grew beyond comprehension!" Grayson adds, laughing and clapping his hands like his deepest desires have just been fulfilled.

Oh, Goddess.

Darien runs a hand down his face. "You two are impossible."

Morgan grins. "Irresistibly so."

"You’re like mosquitoes with muscles."

"I’ll take that as a compliment, brother."

The exchange breaks a little of the tension, laughter skittering like sparks across the thick air. But underneath it, the heaviness remains. It’s a storm hovering just beyond the edge of humor.