[BL] Alpha, You've Got the Wrong Mate! Chapter 80 — Spiked Wine

The door creaked open, drawing every gaze. At the entrance stood Zayden and Yohan, eyes wide.

"W-What is going on?" Yohan whispered, feeling out of place.

Zayden had co to visit Eiran after their eting, and Yohan had decided to use the chance to grow closer to the boy. However...

"Eiran." Zayden’s voice was soft, but the child’s body stiffened.

Leon wrapped an arm protectively around him.

"Have sothing to say, my dear son?"

The General shook his head, fists clenching. How could he explain to Eiran not to trust so easily? That so people, even good ones, couldn’t keep secrets?

Leon rolled his eyes with a low scoff.

"You are bad at hiding your expression, Zayden."

Zayden coughed.

What expression?

He was certain his composure was flawless. No one could read his mind—he paused, shaking his head.

Leon could.

Perhaps that was why the man had survived so long despite being a consort. Or perhaps it was thanks to his powerful household. Either way, Zayden had completely forgotten about this ability of his.

"And how does it work again, Dad?" Zayden asked, taking a seat on the couch across from Leon and Eiran.

Yohan folded his arms, sitting stiffly beside his nephew. He simply felt out of place.

"How does what work?" Leon asked, as if he hadn’t read Zadyen’s mind just now.

The dark-blue-haired man shook his head in disbelief, a soft scoff escaping his lips.

"Your Royal Highness," Eiran tugged on Leon’s sleeve.

"Yes?"

"You have powers?" Eyes bright, the child asked.

Leon chuckled, nodding sofly. "But it’s a secret," leaning close to Eiran’s ear, he whispered.

"S!—" He gasped, quickly covering his mouth to stop himself from saying the word.

"What are you telling my son?" Zayden raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of the tea a maid had served.

"Nothing important," Leon grinned.

However, Zayden and Yohan were not convinced, looking at him with suspicious eyes.

***

"My Lord," a soft voice called.

Zayden instantly turned, his expression bright. However, the smile that tugged at his lips faltered the mont he saw the man standing before him.

"Would you do the honor of a dance?" The man bowed, extending his hand. His short silver hair frad red eyes, and his thin figure was wrapped in a black suit.

Without realizing it, Zayden placed his hand in the young man’s. In an instant, he was pulled onto the dance floor, where couples moved in rhythm with the music. The lody played louder than before, and every gaze in the hall focused on the General. He was dancing with soone! Most could barely recall the last ti they had seen him dance.

"I thought you had left," Zayden whispered, a faint smile forming on his lips.

The silver-haired man tilted his head.

"Pardon ?"

When Zayden blinked, the person standing before him wasn’t Ren. It was soone else—entirely different. Despite the similar hair and eyes, his figure was completely distinct. And the pheromones—

Most importantly, Ren had never smiled at him the way this man did.

"Not again," he muttered under his breath.

"What do you an—"

The music ended, and Zayden imdiately let go of the man’s hand.

"You wanted a dance, and now it’s over," he said, heading toward Eiran, who was seated at one of the tables.

Leon and Yohan were keeping him company during his dad’s absence.

"Zayden! I can’t believe I saw you dance," Leon grinned, eyes curious. "Who was it? Your partner?"

"Of course not," Zayden replied, pulling a chair and taking a seat between Eiran and Yohan. He cupped his face in his palms, letting out a deep sigh. What was wrong with him? It had been only a day since Ren left, yet he seed to be everywhere in the mansion, haunting him. How could that be? He had been fine the week he spent without him.

However... was it because he knew Ren was still in the mansion? Was it because his attendant had stayed by his side, and he had grown used to him?

Yes. That must be it.

He nodded, fists clenched, convinced of his own reasoning.

His rut was approaching. He needed to leave for the pleasure house as soon as the banquet ended—in five days. Until then, he had to use suppressants to make sure his pheromones wouldn’t trail off, unnecessarily attracting ogas.

Then, he sensed a familiar figure standing beside him. When he turned, he froze. What was wrong with him? He rested his forehead against his palm.

"What is wrong?" Yohan asked, leaning closer, his voice low.

"Right... What is wrong with ?" He mumbled to himself.

"Pardon?" Failing to hear him, Yohan tilted his head.

Nothing, Uncle."

"Are you sure? It does not appear that way to ."

Zayden looked at him, forcing a smile.

"Is there anything in this world that could bother ?"

As if to answer his question, Ren’s face flashed before his eyes. His jaw tightened, throat dry.

When he reached for the glass of wine before him, he noticed a strange green liquid clinging to the edge. Furrowing his brows, he looked around. The guests’ movents had grown sluggish, bodies swaying drowsily as if sleep had already claid them. So were already making their way back to their bedchambers, not far from the banquet hall, while others headed toward their carriages, unsteady on their feet.

"What the—"

Leon yawned, covering his mouth as he rose from his seat. "I believe it’s ti I head to bed," he said, glancing at Yohan, who nodded in agreent.

"I should also return to my bedchamber," Yohan added.

Zayden’s eyes lingered on the glass, unease curling in his chest. Sothing was wrong.

Soon, only Eiran and Zayden remained in the hall—until Zayden noticed Duke Danman seated at a table not far from his. The duke’s gaze was sharp, a smile tugged on his lips as he stared at the room—and him.

"Guards, escort Eiran to his room," Zayden ordered, his voice calm but edged with warning.

A pair of soldiers rushed forward, leading the way.

Although hesitant, the child obeyed, casting a wary glance at the duke as he left. The fury in Zayden’s gaze was unlike anything Eiran had ever seen, and the boy shivered, sensing that the air itself had grown heavy, cold and freezing.

Once outside, Eiran looked up at the guards, whispering among themselves.

"Do you think they’ll fight?"

"I’m not sure."

"Everyone knows they have so sort of fight going on between them."

"I hope it’s nothing too bad because..."

The child narrowed his eyes.

Will Dad have a fight with that old man?