Chapter 12: Just Call Me Grandmother

Clara could not fathom why Dominic had descended upon her territory tonight, bringing the formidable Matriarch along, especially since she had flatly rejected his feast invitation the previous midnight.

She directed a sharp, questioning gaze straight at his face, but the elite Alpha King merely shifted his focus away with a distinct, defensive stiffness.

Watching his clumsy posture, Clara felt completely deadpan, utterly baffled by his erratic behavioral patterns.

Yet, she could not bring herself to violently insult the warm intentions of a revered pack elder right to her face. Forcing her expressions into a mask of sudden realization, she lightly tapped her forehead. "Oh, looking back, my professional ledger completely blinded my senses to the hourglass! Please cross the threshold and find comfort, Matriarch. I shall retire to my private chambers to robe myself in traveling garments immediately."

She gently guided Matriarch Evelyn into the living quarters, entirely treating the towering male standing beside her as though his scent were completely nonexistent.

For the first hour in his cycles of absolute rule, Dominic encountered pure, suffocating awkwardness.

He remained anchored at the entrance, his calculation grid paralyzed as to whether his massive frame should advance or retreat from the den.

In the end, it was the Matriarch who settled herself upon the central velvet sofa, gesturing toward him with an imperial wave of her hand. "You stubborn pup, why is your form still frozen by the wood? Move your feet inside."

The exact second Dominic took a seat, his peripheral vision locked onto the active crystal-screen projection resting upon the table.

The display was frozen upon the ancient artifact Clara’s outer-realm network had requested her to evaluate—a sacred bridal crown.

Forged from pure, refined celestial gold, its center was embedded with a massive, perfectly rounded ancient pearl, surrounded by four secondary protective pearls arranged in a majestic runic arch, still pulsing with a faint, shimmering silver life-force like distant starlight.

Dominic’s dark amber eyes narrowed by a fraction. By all laws of craftsmanship and elemental density, this sacred artifact was an priceless heirloom of supreme status.

Could it be that Clara Thorne harbored other wealthy male targets within her orbit besides his own bloodline?

Otherwise, relying strictly on her material status as a rogue female, her vaults shouldn't be capable of holding such top-tier sacred treasures.

A sudden, irrational wave of dry, suffocating heat corrupted his veins.

Had her relationship with some outer-realm male already advanced to the point of securing a bridal crown and discussing eternal mating contracts?

The absolute moment that deduction solidified, his commanding features turned completely black with suppressed hostility.

Emerging from her private quarters in her fresh garments, Clara was met with the exact sight of Dominic’s face looking as dark as a storm-swept mountain.

The silent exasperation in her chest intensified. Was sharing a simple meal with her truly such an agonizing sacrifice for his supreme pride?

She wasn't rejoicing either!

He was the one who had mysteriously breached her secure borders without warning.

To project such a toxic, foul aura made it seem as though she were some desperate female who had crawled to his den, begging for a sliver of his attention.

"Matriarch, I have robe myself appropriately. Alpha Dominic, I trust your schedule is free of urgent pack campaigns? If securing a private feast with my person compromises your invaluable cycles of rule, I would endure a profound burden of guilt."

Though her articulation carried the superficial patterns of high-society etiquette, every syllable was saturated with a sharp, mocking current explicitly targeted at Dominic's ego.

Evelyn pressed her lips tight to suppress an ancestral laugh. This young female possessed quite a lethal wit; within a single breath, her speech remained flawlessly polite, yet she managed to thoroughly discipline the arrogant pup.

It appeared her hawk-like vision and ancestral instincts had delivered a flawless judgment. Clara Thorne was not merely intelligent; she possessed unyielding principles and a fierce individuality. Only a female of her exceptional caliber was worthy of running alongside her supreme grandson!

"My calendar is clear," Dominic rasped out through tight lips, his articulation somewhat rigid.

He was far from blind to the mockery woven into Clara's tone, yet his predatory mind simply could not construct a proper response to counter her. He had been born to a silver throne, recognized as a supreme predator since his awakening, and no entity within the territories had ever possessed the courage to insult his person directly.

"Then, Matriarch, let us cross the perimeter lines now."

Evelyn offered a joyful nod, deliberately reaching out to lock her fingers around Clara's hand as she added an authoritative decree. "Young Clara, the more my spirit maps your aura, the deeper my affection grows. Abstain from utilizing such distant, formal titles going forward. Do not treat this old wolf like a stranger; follow his lead and address me simply as Grandmother!"

"This... I fear such familiarity defies proper protocol, Matriarch." Clara had truly never calculated that the supreme elder of the Vance Empire would shatter her boundaries so aggressively. Left momentarily off-balance, she directed a fierce, demanding glare at Dominic, silently commanding him to unleash his dominant authority and shut the arrangement down.

Yet, defying all her expectations, Dominic merely offered a flat, detached remark from the side. "There is zero disruption to protocol. The Vance bloodline does not harbor the absolute, cold detachment your mind has constructed."