AIDEN'S POV
"Grandpa?" The word escaped me like a breath I hadn't meant to exhale.
He stepped into view, looking every bit like the powerful figure he was—silver-haired and refined, with an air about him that made even the seasoned alphas shift in discomfort.
Gregory Frost.
Silver Frost Pack patriarch. Former Alpha. My grandfather.
He stood relaxed with his hands behind his back, but I could see him carefully taking mental notes.
Then I realized, I hadn't sensed him at all. Hadn't picked up a trace of his scent. Not even the faintest echo of a presence.
Which meant… he'd let me sense nothing.
Stealth. The art of cloaking one's presence. A skill only mastered by the most experienced wolves—and he'd taught it to me, once.
Clearly, I still had room to improve.
I glanced at Jasmine beside me. She was staring at him with calm poise, but I could hear her heartbeat in my ears—fast and erratic. The only real tell that she was caught off guard.
He grinned, spreading his arms slightly. "Don't just stand there like you're not happy to see me, boy."
I stepped forward and clasped his hand, pulling him in for a brief hug. "You weren't supposed to be back until next month."
"Change of plans," he said lightly as we pulled apart. "So," his gaze flicked between Jasmine and me, "aren't you going to introduce us, or should I start guessing names?"
Right. Introductions.
I cleared my throat and gestured. "Grandpa, this is Jasmine. My wife."
His brows lifted slightly. "Wife?"
His gaze shifted to her, more focused than before. It wasn't aggressive, just intent and curious. Jasmine, to her credit, stayed calm. She smiled confidently and reached out her hand.
"Jasmine Heart Frost," she said.
The old man smiled as he took it. "Gregory. But call me Greg. All that 'sir' or 'Grandpa' nonsense makes me feel older than I look."
She blinked. "You don't look old at all."
He chuckled. "Flatterer. I like her already."
Jasmine smiled.
Greg's sharp gaze shifted back to me. "Now, why don't you tell me why you got married without informing the family?"
I rubbed the back of my neck. "I… found the one. Why wait?"
His brows lifted again, this time in something suspiciously close to amusement. "The one, huh?"
I nodded once. "There'll be a celebration later. Something proper. When the rest of the family's around."
He eyed me for a second longer before humming. "Convenient timing. But I suppose we'll get to that."
Without another word, he turned and walked through the grand front doors like he owned the place—which, frankly, he kind of did, once upon a time.
Jasmine and I followed him inside, into one of the formal lounges. She sat beside me, and instinctively, I rested a hand lightly on hers. She didn't flinch, but I felt her tense under my palm.
I ignored the sparks, ignored the heat that bloomed the moment we touched.
Because Greg was watching.
Always watching.
"So, Jasmine," he began casually, though I recognised the predator in the tone. "How are you adjusting to life as Mrs. Frost?"
Her voice was smooth when she replied, "It's… an adjustment. But not unpleasant."
Greg chuckled. "Good answer. Honest. But your heart tells a different story."
Her brows lifted just slightly.
He grinned. "Relax, dear. I'm no youth, but I'm still a romantic at heart. And a damn good listener when it comes to things that beat a little too fast."
I cleared my throat. "Grandpa."
He smirked. "What? I'm just saying she shouldn't be so tense. You didn't marry a corpse, did you?"
Jasmine bit back a laugh. I could feel it vibrate through her hand.
"So," he said casually. "How did you two meet?"
I felt Jasmine stiffen beside me. Her heart kicked again—quick, unsteady. She wasn't used to lying yet.
Jasmine chuckled lightly. "We met at an event. Sort of fell into… alignment, I guess you could say."
"Ah," Greg said warmly, smiling. "So fate still plays her little games."
I gave a small nod, then leaned toward Jasmine with what I hoped was a convincing smile. "We should freshen up. Long day."
Greg waved a hand. "Go. I'll be here."
I stood up and, just before Jasmine could get up, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Then, I offered her my arm to help her up, and we walked hand in hand toward the hall.
Once we were in the hallway, I let go of her hand slowly.
"You okay?" I asked, keeping my voice low.
"Define 'okay,'" she muttered, but her lips twitched like she was barely holding in a smile.
"I swear, he came out of nowhere. I had no idea he was visiting."
"Obviously."
"He's not here to judge," I continued. "He's just curious."
She snorted softly. "Seems to be a family trait."
"Jasmine." I exhaled before speaking. "I know last night was… messy. But my grandfather can be… relentless. Which means we need to sell the perfect couple thing harder than ever."
Jasmine arched a brow. "So we're performance artists now?"
"We're married," I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face before catching myself. "So we should look married."
She didn't say anything to that.
I held her gaze a moment longer than I meant to. Then turned away, heart pounding for reasons I didn't care to name.
"I'll meet you back downstairs," I said, retreating toward my room. "Five minutes."
—
I took a quick shower and then put on a black Henley shirt and dark slacks. It was a good mix of casual and looking presentable.
And then I made my way back down to find Greg already halfway into a bottle of red.
He looked up as I entered.
"Where's your wife?" he asked without preamble.
"She'll be down soon," I said, settling into the leather armchair across from him.
He studied me for a long moment, then said, "You're going to tell me the truth now, or I'm going to extract it the old-fashioned way."
I rubbed a hand down my face. "She doesn't know."
Greg sat back, swirling his glass. "That she's your mate?"
"No."
"You're the Alpha, Aiden. That's not a detail you keep hidden."
"She's human," I said. "She didn't grow up with any of this. So I'm trying to take things easy."
Greg's eyes flicked up. "Sounds like you're protecting her?"
"Yes."
"And yourself?"
I didn't answer.
Because maybe he wasn't wrong.
He studied me for a long moment. Then—finally—he nodded. "Fine. You've always done things your way."
I started to breathe again.
"But make no mistake," he added. "She'll find out. And when she does… if you haven't earned her trust by then, how do you intend to mark her, mate with her and break the curse?"
I clenched my jaw as Greg's words echoed in my head.
Break the curse.
Those three words felt like a death sentence.
I turned my face slightly, jaw tight, eyes on the fire crackling quietly in the hearth. "You think I don't know that, Grandpa?"
Greg didn't flinch. He just watched me over the rim of his wine glass with a hard-to-read expression.
"I just clocked thirty," I muttered. "There's still time."
"Where's the time?" he asked in a calm but sharp voice. "Is it before or after you start losing control?"
My wolf bristled at the edge of my consciousness, pacing beneath my skin. "Tell him to shut up," it growled. "I don't need reminding of what happens if we fail."
I swallowed hard.
The curse was simple in structure, but cruel in design.
If I didn't find and claim my mate—mark her—before my thirty-first birthday, I would lose control of my wolf permanently. No balance. No reasoning. Just primal, bloodthirsty instinct in a body with no master.
My humanity would be gone. I would become feral.
A monster.
I took a breath through my nose. "She's still adjusting to this life. I'm not going to shatter her world by telling her she's mated to something she doesn't understand."
Greg's stare darkened. "And what happens if she finds out from someone else?"
"We just got married, grandpa. And I'll tell her… when the time is right."
There was silence.
Until—
"Tell me what?"