[BL] Alpha, You've Got the Wrong Mate!

Chapter 174 — Being So Dramatic

The Emperor sat at the dining table and exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples.

"Your son has gone mad," he murmured, shaking his head.

He had already sent away the servants, finally having some privacy with his wife. His meeting with Zayden in the morning had left him speechless.

"Which son?" The Empress took a sip of her apple juice, placing the glass back on the table with a low thud.

"It can’t be Soren, for sure."

Selena chuckled, her lips curved faintly. She had a hunch Zaphyr was speaking about Zayden, but she had to make sure.

"What did he say this time?"

"He spoke of divorce."

"Divorce?" She straightened, her composure immediately slipping. "When did he get married? And without our knowledge?"

"Not his," Zaphyr muttered. "High Priest Charles and Enzo."

"Enzo?" Her brows drew together. "Marquis Valron’s youngest son?"

He nodded gravely.

Selena’s fan lowered to her lap, the faintest frown forming. "Wouldn’t that cause a rift between Hianshu and Revhara?"

"Exactly." Zaphyr leaned back, his expression shadowed. "But... he told me something that left me shaken."

Selena’s tone softened, wary. "What is it?"

"The High Priest mistreats Enzo." His voice grew quieter, each word weighed down with meaning. "Mistreats as in..." He trailed off, unable to finish.

Selena’s eyes widened. "How could that be? They appear so harmonious on the outside." Her hand rose instinctively to cover her mouth, her voice trembling.

Zaphyr’s gaze lingered on the floor, deep in thought.

"Appearances can be deceiving, Selena. You know that better than anyone."

The Empress folded her fan slowly, her expression tightening.

"If what he says is true, then this is no longer a domestic dispute—it’s a diplomatic threat. Hianshu will not take kindly to such rumours about their High Priest."

"That’s precisely the problem," Zaphyr’s voice lowered. "Revhara’s alliance with Hianshu keeps our borders stable. If this turns public, it will be seen as an insult. And if Enzo speaks, or worse, if he runs back to his family—Marquis Valron will not stay quiet."

"Do you believe him?"

"I don’t know," Zaphyr admitted. "But Zayden wouldn’t risk my wrath by lying about something so grave. If he saw mistreatment, then perhaps... Perhaps there’s more to this marriage than a political union."

"I’ll have someone look into it quietly. We must know the truth before any whisper reaches Hianshu—or the Marquis," Selene sighed.

Zaphyr’s gaze softened with gratitude. "Thank you... And... make sure Zayden doesn’t act recklessly. His heart tends to lead him before his head."

A faint smile touched her lips.

"He is your son, after all."

Zaphyr chuckled, though the sound carried no joy. "That he is."

***

The next few days went by in the blink of an eye. The long-awaited day finally arrived—the hunting festival. Zayden stood near the fireplace, putting some wood in it. Although it ran on magic, he enjoyed burning those dry branches.

"You really enjoy this, don’t you?"

Ren asked, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth.

Zayden turned, stiffening immediately. He still couldn’t get used to Ren making the first move regarding their conversations.

He cleared his throat, tossing another branch into the flames. "It’s different when it burns like this," he said finally, eyes fixed on the orange glow. "Feels... real."

Ren tilted his head slightly. "Real?"

"The smell, the crackling sound. Magic fire doesn’t have that." He turned to glance at Ren, who stood near the table, fastening the strap of his glove. "You wouldn’t understand. You probably think it’s childish."

Ren’s lips curved faintly. "Not at all. I think it’s... cute."

Zayden froze. The word caught him off guard. His cheeks warmed up, and he knew a dark red had already bloomed on his face. He quickly turned toward the fire, hoping Ren hadn’t noticed.

"My Lord, your face..."

Zayden squeezed his eyes shut. Of course, Ren saw. Was there anyone who escaped his gaze apart from the love he felt?

"Are you sick?" The man rushed to him, gently placing a hand on his forehead.

The General stood still like a statue, holding his breath. Today was the grand day—the day he would finally confess to this man. The day he would finally reveal the feelings that had been eating him up from within. And, from the looks of it, he would accept. He had to.

He made sure Ren spoke about Ilyan while making his presence known. Whenever that alpha was mentioned, Zayden shifted the conversation to the future—to the things Eiran and they could be.

Now, as the morning light spilled through the curtains, he felt the weight of his decision settle in. The hunt would begin soon, and with it, his chance.

No more waiting. No more hiding behind stolen glances and half-meant words.

Today, he would tell him.

The door swung open. Eiran stood at the threshold for a moment, watching his two fathers get ready.

They were actually wearing the outfits he had picked out! And they looked like family, just as Leon said.

When he suggested to pick out their outfits, the two stared at each other as if Eiran had asked something too unexpected. Or maybe, they didn’t trust his taste in fashion. However, when he brought the clothes, they once again stared at each other, smiling. That was enough for the child to know they liked it but they kept complimenting him for it for days! Mostly Zayden.

His Dad wore a dark blue hunting suit that fit his frame perfectly, paired with black pants beneath his long coat. His Papa’s shirt was also blue—similar in shade but simpler, since he never liked drawing too much attention.

Eiran, meanwhile, was dressed in a small black and dark blue suit, his hair neatly combed at the top. His boots were already on, unlike his father’s, who still weren’t completely ready. He couldn’t believe it.

He had been told to be ready by five in the morning!

He crossed his arms, frowning.

"You’re not ready yet... You’re both late."

Zayden glanced up from adjusting his gloves.

"We’re early. You just woke up too soon."

"I woke up when you told me to," Eiran said with all the seriousness his face could manage. "Now I’ve been waiting for hours."

Ren hid a small smile behind his hand.

"He’s right, you did tell him to be ready at five."

Zayden shot him a look.

"And you could’ve helped me finish sooner."

"I was helping," Ren replied calmly, straightening the collar of Zayden’s coat. "You’re the one who kept changing gloves."

Eiran sighed, clearly deciding his parents were hopeless. "At this rate, the festival will end before we even get there."

That finally drew a laugh out of Zayden, the tension in the room easing a little. The thought of looking perfect during his confession kept him from finalizing the gloves. None of them suited his taste.

"All right, little commander. No need to be so dramatic. We are only a few minutes past five. And the forest is not that far if we use magic."

Eiran didn’t answer, settling on the couch.

Ren chuckled, still adjusting Zayden’s collar. His gaze lingered on his neck, the muscles tense as if he were nervous. He looked up, meeting Zayden’s eyes.

The General stiffened but forced a smile.

"W-What?"

"He takes after you. Being so dramatic."

Zayden blinked, surprised. The man who refused to call Eiran their son was now saying that he takes after him.

Great.

"No, he takes after you," He argued, half-teasing. "Look how he just went silent."

Ren frowned—then unexpectedly burst into laughter.

Zayden’s heart raced at the sound—at the sight of his bright face. His cold fingers brushed gently against Ren’s cheek before he quickly pulled away.

"O-Oh, sorry." He apologized immediately, rushing to Eiran’s side.

"My Lord, your gloves?" Ren asked, unbothered by his touch.

Rather, the cold fingertips grazing against his cheeks felt... good. Was it because he was standing in front of the fireplace?

"You can choose some for me," he said, gently lifting Eiran and setting him down on the floor.

"Dad! I’m not a baby!"

"Oh, but you’ll always be one to me," he grinned.

Eiran scowled, his cheeks puffing up. He shook his head, as if that would make the irritation disappear. Then he tugged gently on his dad’s sleeve, pulling him down. Zayden leaned closer, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you prepare the ring?" the boy whispered.

Zayden chuckled, giving a faint nod.

"Did you prepare your present? You said it would be a surprise and refused to tell me," he said, keeping his voice low enough for Ren not to hear.

"I did," Eiran grinned.