The accusation from the alpha prince shocked them.
Claudine and Robert began stuttering, their words fumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to explain themselves.
"We would never!" the uncle blurted, his hands raised as if to shield himself from Caspian's wrath. "Alpha prince, this is a misunderstanding!"
"Yes, we—oh, we would never dare—" the aunt added, her voice trembling. "We apologize! Please forgive us!"
Meanwhile, Mirabelle whimpered, her hands clutching her dress as she swayed on her feet. Her body felt hotter by the second, her limbs weak and trembling under the pressure of whatever had invaded her system.
She let out an involuntary moan, biting her lip to muffle the sound.
Caspian's attention snapped back to her at once. His red eyes softened momentarily, but his grip on her arm remained firm. "Mirabelle," he murmured, his voice low, almost soothing.
She looked up at him with wide, glassy eyes. "Why… why did you make me eat it?" she whimpered, her tone both accusing and pleading. "If you knew it was laced… why?"
Caspian's lips twitched into a sly, almost mischievous smile. "Because," he said softly, his voice dipping to a growl as he leaned closer, "I wanted you to cling to me."
Her breath hitched, her mind fogging further as the meaning of his words settled over her.
Before she could protest—or make sense of anything—Caspian bent down, sliding an arm beneath her knees and lifting her effortlessly into his arms.
"What are you doing?" she managed to whisper, though her voice was weak.
"Taking you out of here," he said simply, his tone brooking no argument.
The family erupted into chaos behind them.
"Alpha prince, please!" the aunt cried, nearly tripping over herself as she followed him. "Forgive us! Whatever it is, we'll fix it!"
"What's happening?" Sally shrieked, darting after them. "Alpha prince, where are you taking her?"
Caspian ignored them all, his movements swift and deliberate as he carried Mirabelle out of the dining room.
His jaw was set, his expression thunderous as he pushed through the front door and into the cool night air.
"Put me down," Mirabelle murmured, though her voice lacked conviction. The heat coursing through her body left her limp and compliant in his arms.
"Not a chance," Caspian replied, his tone sharp yet protective.
Behind them, the family trailed, still begging for forgiveness.
"Alpha prince, we had no idea—" the uncle started.
"You dared to drug my food," Caspian growled, his voice a low rumble that made the family shrink back in fear. He didn't stop walking, his long strides taking them further from the house.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice? Or were you hoping I'd be too distracted to care?" but he had a marvellous sense of smell.
"We would never—"
"You would," Caspian interrupted, his gaze flicking over his shoulder briefly. "And you did. You thought you could manipulate me. But you underestimated how much I hate betrayal."
Mirabelle, barely clinging to consciousness, felt the protective strength in his hold. Despite the heat coursing through her veins, a sense of safety enveloped her.
Caspian's possessive grip felt like a shield against the chaos of her life—a life where she was constantly ignored, mistreated, and discarded.
She let her head fall against his chest, her body finally succumbing to the exhaustion and feverish sensation overwhelming her.
His steady heartbeat thudded beneath her ear, grounding her in the midst of the storm.
Caspian glanced down at her, his expression softening once more. "Rest, bunny," he murmured.
As they reached the edge of the property, Caspian turned to face the family one last time, his eyes blazing. "You'll regret tonight," he said coldly. "I'll make sure of it."
The aunt collapsed to her knees, sobbing, while Sally's face contorted in fury and disbelief.
"Alpha prince, please, don't—"
Caspian didn't wait to hear the rest of their pleas. He turned his back on them and walked toward his waiting car, cradling Mirabelle closer to his chest.
She clung to him instinctively, her small hands gripping his shirt as her breathing slowed.
Inside, Caspian's anger simmered, but his focus was on the fragile figure in his arms.
Whatever this family had planned, they had failed spectacularly.
Mirabelle was his now—completely and undeniably his—and he would never let them harm her again.
The car sped down the winding roads, the grand Howlcrest estate looming in the distance. Caspian sat rigid in the backseat, Mirabelle cradled in his arms.
Her soft groans of discomfort pierced through his thoughts, each one tugging at something primal within him. He clenched his jaw and took out his phone, dialing quickly.
"Dr. Harlow," he said the moment the call connected, his voice sharp and commanding. "Be at the estate. Now. I need you to check on someone." Without waiting for a response, he ended the call, his red eyes glinting with simmering fury.
The car came to a halt in front of the sprawling Howlcrest estate, its stone towers casting long shadows under the moonlight.
Before Caspian could step out, another car pulled up beside him. His brothers, ever-watchful and in sync, emerged one by one.
Fabian's brows furrowed the moment he saw Mirabelle in Caspian's arms. "What the hell happened?" he demanded, his voice low but laced with anger.
Caspian growled softly, the memory of the dining room fiasco still fresh. "The Harringtons dared to lace their food with an aphrodisiac. They tried to trap me—trap her." His grip on Mirabelle tightened protectively.
Fabian's eyes darkened. "That's it. I'm going to deal with them personally," he snarled, stepping forward.
"Fabian," Tristan interjected, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Think it through. Don't act rashly."
"They attempted to drug my brother, an alpha prince!" Fabian retorted, shaking Tristan's hand off.
"Exactly," Tristan said calmly, his golden eyes meeting Fabian's. "And we don't need to escalate this without a plan. We're not savages."
Dorian, who had been waiting at home, leaned casually against the car, clearly uninterested in the drama. "I don't see the big deal. Let them stew in their failure. Caspian clearly won."
Lucian, however, stepped forward with a more practical question. "And what about her?" he asked, nodding toward Mirabelle. His tone was measured, but his eyes flickered with curiosity. "What's your plan now?"
Caspian's voice was firm, unyielding. "She's my mate."
The declaration stunned them all into silence. Even Tristan, who had been seconds away from returning to his wife inside the villa, froze. He turned back, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"You already found her?" Tristan asked, his voice warm with congratulations. "I'm glad, brother. Truly."
The others exchanged glances before nodding in agreement.
"About damn time," Fabian muttered, though a rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Guess you're not completely hopeless."
Lucian smirked. "Congratulations, then. I assume you'll be making some big changes now."
Caspian didn't reply, his focus solely on Mirabelle as she stirred weakly in his arms. The brothers fell into step behind him as he carried her into the Howlcrest villa.
The grand hall was a reflection of their lineage—ornate chandeliers, dark wooden floors, and an unmistakable air of power.
"Prepare a room," Caspian commanded one of the staff as they entered. "And alert me the moment Dr. Harlow arrives."
As the family dispersed, Tristan lingered behind, his expression soft. "You've got this," he said, patting Caspian on the shoulder. "She'll be fine."
Caspian nodded, though his eyes didn't leave Mirabelle's face. "She has to be."
With that, he carried her deeper into the estate, his brothers' voices fading into the background as he prepared to claim and protect what was now undeniably his.