A Decision for the Future

Leonard

The dining hall of the Blackwell Manor was grand, yet Leonard barely noticed the intricate chandeliers casting a warm golden glow over the long mahogany table. His parents sat on either side of him, the weight of their presence pressing down on him like an invisible force. He had just returned from the Pack House after a long, grueling day—one that included overseeing admissions at Moonshine University, ensuring that the new laws allowing female wolves to enroll were smoothly implemented, and managing his ever-growing business empire.

But none of those things weighed on him as much as her.

His wolf, Zade, was restless, howling in frustration at being away from their mate for so long. Every second spent away from Eila was unbearable, his mind plagued by the memory of her scent—warm honey and lavender, soothing yet intoxicating—and the feeling of her soft body pressed against him as they slept. He wanted to be wrapped in her scent again, to bury his face in the crook of her neck and forget everything else.

But that was impossible right now.

His father, Reynard Blackwell, finally cleared his throat, breaking Leonard from his thoughts. "Would you like to shed some light on your mate's existence, or do we need to get information from someone else?" His father's voice carried its usual edge of sarcasm, a trait Leonard had long since learned to ignore.

Leonard clenched his jaw but responded evenly, "I was going to tell you once you returned."

His father scoffed, taking a sip of his wine. "Clearly, Magnus got to it first."

Leonard's fingers curled around his fork at the mention of Alpha Magnus. He had almost argued with him earlier over the unnecessary meddling, but the Alpha had merely given him a cool stare and stated, 'I am the Alpha. I don't need permission to share news that causes no harm.'

The worst part? He wasn't wrong.

Taking a deep breath, Leonard focused back on his parents and began explaining everything—how he had first sensed the bond, how he called Eila over to confirm it, and how he had chosen to scent her instead of marking her just yet. He told them about her family, about Celena working at the manor, and about Eila's determination.

The moment he mentioned Celena's name, his mother, Evelyn Blackwell, straightened in her seat, recognition flashing in her eyes.

"Celena Johnson?" she repeated, looking at her husband.

Reynard hummed in thought. "I remember her well. She has been a diligent worker at this estate for years. She's an excellent housemaid, very skilled at her job."

Evelyn nodded in agreement, a soft smile appearing. "She always took great care of us whenever we stayed here."

For a moment, Leonard thought this would go smoother than expected. But then, Reynard's expression turned serious.

"But here's the issue," his father continued, voice firm. "Your mate is a maid's daughter. It's not an ideal match for our family's status."

Leonard's grip on his knife tightened.

Reynard's sharp gaze didn't waver. "Before you say anything, let me clarify—I have no intention of disrespecting Celena. She is a remarkable worker, and I value loyalty above all else. However, if you are to accept Eila as your mate, her mother cannot continue working as a maid here. It will affect the family's honor. People will talk, and not in a good way."

Leonard expected this. He wasn't a fool. He knew his father was a man of logic and pragmatism, and his words, though harsh, weren't entirely wrong.

But that didn't mean Leonard liked hearing them.

Zade growled in his mind. This is absurd. Eila is our mate. She is worth more than all the wealth in this estate.

Leonard agreed. He hated the way people measured worth by social standing. He had spent years building his own empire, proving himself beyond just being the Beta of the pack. But his father came from a different time—where status meant everything, and alliances were built through bloodlines and wealth.

Leonard exhaled, trying to keep his anger in check. "You realize Eila will not accept this easily, right?"

Evelyn tilted her head. "She's an intelligent girl, from what I've heard. She'll understand the situation."

"She might understand it," Leonard said, voice tight, "but she won't like it. Her parents' income supports their entire household. Removing that income source is not a simple decision."

Reynard leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Then we must find an alternative. Celena Johnson will no longer work as a maid, but she can be given a better position. Perhaps something more managerial, overseeing the household instead of serving in it."

Leonard considered this. It wasn't unreasonable. It was actually better for Celena in the long run, but the real issue was convincing Eila.

"She is proud," Leonard murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "She won't want special treatment just because she is my mate."

Evelyn chuckled softly. "That's why you like her, isn't it?"

Leonard didn't respond, but the truth was evident.

She was strong-willed, independent, and unafraid to speak her mind. He knew she wouldn't take kindly to changes that seemed like favoritism.

But this was necessary.

If he was going to make her his wife in the future, this step was inevitable.

Finally, he sighed. "Fine. But let me handle the conversation with Eila and her mother. I don't want this to feel like a command."

Reynard nodded in approval. "Good. Because whether she likes it or not, this is happening."

Leonard barely touched his food after that. His mind was already racing, planning the best way to talk to Eila about this.

Would she be angry?

Would she push back?

Would she refuse him altogether?

The very thought of her rejecting him made something dark twist inside him.

No. He wouldn't let that happen.

As dinner came to an end, Leonard stood abruptly. "I have things to take care of," he muttered before excusing himself.

He needed to see her.

The overwhelming need to be near her, to feel her warmth and presence, was clawing at him. He would have waited until morning, but his patience was running thin.

Within minutes, he was heading toward her house, his long strides purposeful.

Zade was howling in triumph.

Because tonight, Eila would understand something very clearly.

She belonged with him.

And he wasn't letting her go.