Chapter 347: Outsmarting Meredith
Draven.
"You should have seen him, Brother." Dennis leaned back in his chair, arms folded, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"One hit to the ribs, another to the gut, and Gary folded like wet parchment. The men laughed so hard I thought they would choke on their own breath. He will think twice before strutting onto our training grounds again."
I didn’t smile, though the satisfaction stirred deep in my chest. ’Good. Gary needed to learn a few lessons.’
But before I could speak, Rhovan’s voice cut across my thoughts. "Our mate is coming."
I stilled. Then I heard it—first the rhythm of her heartbeat, steady but quickened, then the faint sound of footsteps on stone.
I cut Dennis off mid-laugh. "Brackham must be in a good mood wherever he is right now," I said smoothly, voice shifting without pause. "Thinking he has gotten what he wants."
Dennis blinked, confusion flashing across his face. Then, to his credit, he caught on instantly and leaned forward.
"Hah. A good mood, yes. That old fox probably thinks his little stunt makes him clever."
Three heartbeats later, Meredith appeared with a large bowl of fruit balanced in her hands and a small smile that softened her lips.
I rose slightly and reached out a hand. She placed the bowl on the table and slid closer, taking my hand as she sat by my side.
I draped my arm around her shoulders and drew her in without a second thought.
Her violet eyes flicked between us. "What were you two discussing?" she asked lightly.
I brushed my thumb along her shoulder and leaned back, my tone smooth and casual. "We were talking about Brackham. I imagine he is somewhere right now, smiling into his glass of whiskey, thinking that he has finally gotten rid of the vampires."
Meredith tilted her head slightly, listening.
I let a faint smirk play on my lips. "He’s probably enjoying himself too much to realize the storm that is brewing under his nose. Short-sighted men always drink hardest before the ground splits beneath them."
Dennis gave a sharp laugh, picking up the thread without hesitation. "Hahaha, I can picture it. Feet up, smug grin, thinking he is untouchable. Won’t that be a sight when the storm hits him where it hurts?"
Meredith’s lips curved into a small smile as she reached for a piece of fruit from the bowl, but her eyes lingered on me a beat longer than necessary. Watching. Weighing.
I gently squeezed her shoulder and drew her nearer, as if to dispel the doubt, while she popped the fruit into her mouth.
"Enjoy your fruit," I murmured. "Men like Brackham always believe they have won, until they are drowning."
Then, she plucked another grape from the bowl, her fingers brushing the stem with deliberate grace. Without a word, she held it up to my lips.
I arched a brow but parted my mouth, letting her place it on my tongue. Sweetness burst against my teeth, but not as sweet as the small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
Dennis snorted. "Moon above, are we doing this now? Feeding grapes like doves in spring?"
Meredith only tilted her chin, her eyes glinting. "If you are jealous, Dennis, I could feed you one as well."
My laughter spilt into the air, but Dennis raised his hands in mock surrender. "No, thank you. I will leave the spoiling to my brother. He looks starved for it."
I smirked, ignoring him as Meredith picked another grape. She held it just shy of my lips this time, her eyes searching mine.
"You and your brother seem awfully... animated for just talking about Brackham," she said lightly, almost playful. But there was steel beneath the silk of her tone.
I let the grape linger there a heartbeat before taking it between my teeth, my gaze never leaving hers.
"Brackham has that effect," I said evenly.
Dennis chuckled, leaning back. "He does. Especially when he thinks he is clever."
But I could feel Meredith’s suspicion pressing at the edges of the moment, even as she smiled and reached for another grape.
Immediately, I plucked it from her hand and bit down, then turned to Dennis as if her question had never been asked.
"How many of our people are leaving for Stormveil tomorrow?"
The lightness drained from his grin as his tone shifted. "Thirty-five. That’s the first batch."
Before I could answer, footsteps sounded, and Jeffery stepped onto the terrace. He bowed his head respectfully.
"Alpha. Dennis." His gaze flicked briefly toward Meredith, acknowledging her as well, before he took a seat beside Dennis.
I nodded, then leaned forward. "And the second batch?" I asked. "When are they leaving?"
"Next week," Dennis replied.
I shook my head. "No. This weekend. I want them gone as soon as possible. No one knows when the vampires will strike, and I won’t risk the weaker ones being caught in the storm."
Meredith’s voice was gentle but assertive at my side. "I agree with Draven. We must act swiftly."
Dennis exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. This weekend, then."
Jeffery cleared his throat. "Two batches leaving in the same week might draw suspicion. The Humans will ask questions."
I leaned back, a sharp smile curving my mouth. "Good. Let them ask. I hope suspicion comes knocking. I want Brackham pressed enough to contact me as soon as possible."
Silence settled around us, the kind that comes when there is nothing more to argue.
I gestured toward the bowl. "You both should grab some grapes."
Dennis grinned, reaching in first, and Jeffery followed more cautiously. They thanked me and plucked grapes from the crown Meredith had built for herself, chewing as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
I didn’t mind. Eating from the same bowl didn’t lessen my title, nor my authority. If anything, it reminded me of the bond that held us together—trust, sharpened with steel.
Then, as Dennis laughed at something Jeffery muttered under his breath, a thought sparked in the back of my mind.
And I fixed my attention on the two of them, my expression turning serious.