The Kitty Cat's Mates (ManxMen)

14 | Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

"Not too shabby," King murmured to himself as he fixed the cuffs of the maroon suit he was to wear for the ascension's party. Thrown numbers of other tried articles of clothing littered his and Axel's room.

"I think it'd fit with a black shirt, what d'you guys say?" He unbuttoned his white shirt, letting his collarbones peak out, as he turned side to side, posing like a sophisticated highbred. Did I mention he was a fashionista? I just did.

"King, stop messing with that outfit," Pandora sighed as she walked across the mountain of clothes. She grabbed a handful and gave him the eye. "And it's a ceremony, not a fashion show."

Bryce eyed them while resting his head on his hand on the bed. "Your mirror session is over, Mr. McCarthy. Please refrain from being obsessive."

King ignored him. "Exactly, it's a party. An elite party in a massive event center. I wouldn't wanna look like a ten-year-old with a freaking red bow."

"You don't even look like a ten-year-old—"

"Bryce, it's a figure of speech, and stop playing with that spider and place it in a damn container, please." King pointed at the spider crawling on the big guy's hand. "How the heck did you even brought that creep in here?"

"It's a huntsman, mind you. And I found it right at that table beside your bed. Plus, how dare you call Peter a creep?"

"Well, hi there, Peter," King said sarcastically.

"King, just wrap it up. It already looks good," Pandora commented.

"Yes, yes, I'm already finished. All I need now is a black shirt," he mumbled as he turned his head at the litter of clothes.

Pandora placed both hands on her waist and was blinking her eyes disapprovingly at him. He's probably going after his hairstyle afterward, she just knew.

King turned his eyes on them. "What about yours?"

Pandora crossed her arms. "A cowl-neck white gown. That's it."

Bryce narrowed his eyes. "What's a cowl-neck?" he asked as he twisted his hand around, the huntsman spider twirling around it.

She blinked at him and drew a U back and forth with one finger. "It's... like a loose piece of fabric in the chest area—"

"You'll know in the next two days, big guy," King said. "And what about yours?"

"I've got mine right here," Bryce presented the creased black suit on his side with a wave of his hand, "topped off with anything and voila."

Pandora moved over to the window. "There's a car outside."

The other two rushed over to the window, stepping onto the pile of clothes under their feet. There was indeed a car that had just pulled up on one of the infinite space of their front yard.

"A guest, maybe?" Bryce mumbled.

"No shit, Sherlock."

Bryce slapped him, and he hit him back. Pandora pinched them both.

Bryce turned his head back to the window and snorted, "Hola. Well, don't he looks so daddy?" he chuckled.

King, curious, looked back. There was a tanned man in glasses and white rolled-up sleeves that got out of the driving seat.

He shrugged. "He got swag," he uttered, before turning uninterested.

He took off the suit and shirt, leaving him in his sleeveless undershirt, and tossed it to the side.

Pandora looked at him. "Where are you going?"

He waved a hand. "Just grabbing a bite on the kitchen."

King moved along the winding hallway, trailing his fingers along the polished log walls while eyeing the paintings hanging high above the wall. Along the way, he noticed a particular portrait. An arising sensation welled in on his chest, and he stopped in front of it and stared. It was him and his dad.

King ran his finger across the rough canvas, mesmerized by how something that was already taken from seven years ago would feel as if it was taken just a few weeks before. He scoffed and paced down in his path again.

Just when he nearly reached the kitchen, he halted in his track. There was a familiar scent that struck him in the nostrils again, and he didn't want to register who it was because it wasn't, for the second time, good news. But his brain had already screamed it for him—Lykaios!

The word bounced around and echoed inside of his mind, and King already guessed it was the guest they saw earlier.

Instead of moving towards the kitchen, that was already on his right, King took a step on the left. Then another one, and another, until he found himself like a thief in one corner of the spacious living room Hugh and that other man were in. He could hear them murmuring.

"—s good to finally meet you, King Hugh," said the man he saw earlier.

Damn, King thought as he eyed the posh black-haired guy who looked like he was in his early thirties. He got the complete set, from head to toes. More than that, he seems well-mannered and highly educated. Which strung a contrary at the fact that he was a slave before.

The maid handed the two men each a cup of hot tea. She was blushing. Not that King could blame her. The chap was running a factory of magnetic charm.

"Although I would like to exchange pleasantries with you, I'm interested in asking why the great alpha of the south would be interested as to request an audience with us, nevermind, alone? Don't you feel skeptical coming here by yourself? Or perhaps you might have thought of a backup plan that brings comfort on your mind?" Hugh said to him.

King was right; it was a member of the Lykaio— wait, alpha?

The fellow chuckled. "Trust in both parties is one of the most important values in negotiation, especially when reaching a constructive outcome." He smiled. "Although I would be honest about the backup plan."

Hugh laughed, amused. He crossed his legs and bounced it, waiting for the man's primary response.

"Now, about your first question, we heard about your son's ascension, and we would like to express our courtesy on the upcoming event."

"Courtesy? Now, that's weird. . . I seem to remember your men intruding on our territory and assaulting three of our members. And now you wish to show courtesy?"

"We plot nothing if that is what you mean. I've heard of the incidents that happened indeed. Thus, I bring this discussion as a manner of passing down our greatest apologies for my men. . . and my brothers' misbehavior."

Hugh examined him; the man's gaze did not seem to slump.

He sighed, taking the cup in front of him. "If that is what you truly wish for, then I'm in no position to reject you. I'm also not that bitter as to deny an invitation to those who wish goodwill for my son."

The gentleman nodded, smiling back at him. A lady trap, if King was asked to describe.

"However, you must enlighten me. For what reason would your men unreasonably assault my men, Alpha Zachary?"

King's eyes widened. Puppet master behind their current administration, Zachary, he remembered.

"I think that is a topic that we should discuss elsewhere. . . with less ears on the walls."

The alpha's gaze shot him like a bullseye. King ducked, his heart pounding so loudly against his chest like it was trying to escape and hide. For heaven's sake, the guy caught him looking at them like a creep!

In the beginning, he thought the man resembled a sheep from the gentle aura he shed, but the way his eyes glowed as he stared at him, that was no sheep, it was the eyes of the wolf lurking around its prey.

King ran back upstairs. Screw the kitchen, he thought.