Chapter 285 Sparks

    Third Person POV

    47 Pearis

    Henry hadn’t released ihis /ipheromones, but the weight in his words–the certainty, the veiled threat–was enough to freeze the air.

    Charles’s fists tightened, veins rising on the back of his hands. He could feel it: his Beta bloodline ced him at a disadvantage against an Alpha’s innate dominance. But his wolf howled in defiance, driving him forward.

    He fixed his gaze on Henry, voice cutting sharp and deliberate. “Alpha, what Ms. Mary needs right now is peace–a ce to rest. Not to be cornered by someone barging in, someone who’s already hurt her. If you really cared for her, you’d leave.”

    “Hurt her?” Henry’s eyes chilled, the warning in his tone unmistakable as he turned his gaze on Charles. “That’s between me and her. It isn’t for an outsider to judge. Especially not a Beta…” His words trailed, but the contempt in them was clear: Charles had no ce in matters between an Alpha and an Omega.

    “Beta so what?” Charles’s voice cracked like a whip, rising with wolfish ferocity. “At least I can see her pain. Ar least I don’t drag her back when she’s falling apart. Can’t you see her resistance? Or has Alpha arrogance blinded you so much that force is the only answer you know?”

    The two men shed without touching, one seated, the other standing, eyes locked in silent battle. The tension between them sparked like flint and steel, the air itself vibrating with it.

    Then-

    iClink/ii. /i

    Aubrey’s fork struck porcin, the sound sharp in the silence. Small as it was, it cracked through the standoff like amand.

    Both men turned to her at once.

    She lifted her head. Her expression was nk, but her eyes were frigid, sweeping over Henry, then Charles.

    She said nothing. But that cold gaze was enough.

    Henry’s Alpha presence retreated, contained. Charles slowly straightened, releasing his fists.

    The suffocating pressure in the dining roo

    eased, leaving only a wary, brittle quiet.

    “Sorry,” Charles muttered first, his tone/slipping back into gentleness, weighted with apology.

    Henry pressed his lips together, didn’t speak, but looked away–conceding in silence.

    Aubrey ignored them both, picked up her fork again, and returned to her meal.

    So the breakfast ended, not with conversation, but

    When it was over, Aubrey rose. “I’ve got cat hair all

    a silence so strange it felt almost unreal.

    over me. I’m going to shower.”

    She picked up the clothes Charles had bought for he

    and walked toward the bathroom.

    The two men exchanged a nce. The air thickened again, the faintest whiff of powder keg in the room. But

    Chapter 285 Sparks

    remembering Aubrey’s earlier look, both swallowed it back down.

    Not long after, Aubrey emerged, towel–drying her hair.

    Almost immediately, Hemy stood, tugging at his cor, his voice casual, deliberate. “It’s hot. I should wash up too.”

    Charles’s eyes darkened with understanding.

    He rose as well, voice t but firm. “Good idea. I haven’t cleaned up after my morning workout eitheri. /iThe implication was clear: sweat still clung to him, and he wasn’t about to give ground.

    And so, nearly in unison, both men stripped off their shirts, barc–chested, their physiques bared like derations of war.

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