Chapter 377: A Whiskey Boy..

Faye was standing, serving cocktails and expensive drinks to the guests. She held her tray balanced on her palm, her fingers gripping the edge tightly while her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, her breath blowing out soft against the warm air of the bustling hall.

She wondered when her girlfriend was going to arrive at the party and when the so-called celebrant would finally show up.

Since the party started, all she had been doing was moving around, handing out drinks like it was some grand ball.

Faye kept checking the time on her phone, monitoring when her service time would finally be over.

Then a boy with long black hair approached her. He walked with a surprisingly firm stride, his chest held high as his breath came out calm and controlled, his gaze locking straight onto her face.

She slipped her phone into her apron pocket.

He wore a fitted suit, his tie was neat, and even his hair was tied into a ponytail.

He looked about ten or eleven years old, at least from Faye’s point of view.

"Do you have London whiskey?" the boy asked. His voice was remarkably steady for someone his size, his chest rising in a small wave while he held her eyes without blinking.

Faye looked at him. She paused right in her tracks, her brow furmly knitting together while her lungs took in a sharp, incredulous gasp through her mouth.

"Is it for an adult?" she asked. She leaned down slightly, her eyes narrowing as her heart rate maintained an amused, doubtful pace.

"Yes, it’s what I would like to drink. Do you have it?" He stated plainly....

"Just because Oakland legalized alcohol doesn’t mean you should drink whiskey. You look too young. Maybe a beer with 1 percent alcohol." Faye said, her tone dripping with dry humor as her chest expanded with a soft, amused breath, her hand shifting the tray slightly.

"You must be new to this town, right?" The boy observed coolly, tilting his head while his eyes searched her face, his posture remaining perfectly relaxed.

"I was born here and raised in two towns, but that doesn’t mean I’m new to this town," Faye said, looking at the boy.

"So what is it going to take for you to give me my whiskey, girl?" He demanded, his voice carrying an unexpected edge that made his small chest rise and fall in a sharp, demanding cadence.

"You don’t need whiskey. Here, have this mocktail, boy," Faye said, handing him a mocktail from her tray.

She was about to walk away, but he grabbed her apron.

"I am not a boy but a man of grace, and I demand my drink."

Faye shook her head, viewing him as nothing more than a naughty child. She tried removing his hand from her apron, but he was surprisingly strong for someone who looked younger than her.

So Faye dragged herself along with the boy until they reached the table where the drinks were being served. She set her tray down before turning to face him.

"Look, young man. Why don’t you go to your parents or guardian and demand your little whiskey, huh? With the way you behave, I’m sure you’re from one of those council families. There are like 10 to 15 servers at this fucking party, and somehow you chose me for this annoying banter." Faye snapped, gesturing wildly with her hands while her face flushed hot, her heart hammering a fierce rhythm against her ribs.

He looked at her and smiled. His lips curved up slowly, his body uncurling from its tense posture as his lungs filled with a quiet, easy draft of air.

His smile felt strangely familiar. Faye blinked behind her eyelids, her heart skipping an odd, uneasy beat as she stared at his face, her breathing slowing down into a cautious frequency.

"You do not have fear in your eyes," he said. He folded his hands behind his back, his chest expanding with a calm, heavy wave that seemed far too mature for his small body.

"Why should I? I’m never scared of anything... except my big brother finding out about my dirty secret in the closet... or my girlfriend." Faye muttered, rolling her eyes as a short puff of air escaped her nose, her shoulders dropping into a relaxed slouch.

"You’re scared of your girlfriend but not scared of someone like me?" he asked curiously. He stepped a little closer, his eyes gleaming while his breath came soft and even.

"You look too small to be scary. And I’m not really scared of my girlfriend. I’m just scared I won’t live up to her expectations." Faye admitted softly, her posture shifting as her lungs pulled in a gentle, thoughtful draft, her throat tightening slightly with raw honesty.

"I see. Can we discuss these expectations you’re talking about?" The boy offered, gesturing toward the quiet space behind the long service counter while his own breathing remained steady.

The two of them ended up sitting on the floor behind the table. Faye sipped on a cocktail while the boy was forced to settle for his mocktail.

"I mean, her family, yes insane. From her grandfather to her stupid-ass brother. She’s happy being with me, but I see it in her eyes... she still longs for them." Faye talked freely, taking a long drink from her glass while her heart beat a heavy, sympathetic rhythm against her chest, her mind picturing Princess’s face.

"Obviously she does. It’s her family. Family always comes first. No matter how you’re treated, loyalty is what makes a family." The boy argued plainly, taking a small sip of his fruit juice while his chest rose and fell in a firm, unyielding motion.

"Love makes a family. The unconditional love my brother gives me is what she desires from her brothers. The loving tender care of parents is what she yearns for from her damned grandfather, who only uses a stupid strike to control them. Her family only seeks power."

"Because power is the foundation of a family," the boy replied calmly.

Faye couldn’t connect with him. She had been doing all the talking while he simply challenged her words. She took a quick, irritated breath through her nose, shaking her head as her pulse throbbed with annoyance at his cold logic.

"You’re not following me. Love is the foundation of a family."

Then she studied his hair, which was the same striking black as her girlfriend’s and her pups’.

She leaned closer, her eyes scanning the dark strands tied neat behind his neck while her breath caught sharply in her throat, her heart giving a sudden, violent thud.

"Are you a Kings? Your hair is black, just like my girl."

Faye finished her cocktail. The last drops swallowed down her throat with a raspy sound, her chest expanding with a large, questioning draft as she waited for his answer.

"What are you doing here, Grandfather?" a voice called out. The sharp, familiar tone cut directly over the top of the table, making Faye’s breath lock straight up in her chest while her whole body froze rigid on the floor.

Faye looked up to see Adam Kings staring at the boy. Adam stood tall near the edge of the tablecloth, his face pale as his chest heaved with short, shocked gasps of air, his pulse visibly thumping at his jawline.

Faye and Adam locked eyes for a second before his attention returned to the boy.

The boy gracefully stood up from the floor. He smoothed down the front of his fitted suit, his chest swelling with a massive, terrifying draft of air that seemed to shift the entire temperature around them.

"Adam, it seems you’ve forgotten your manners. Do you now speak to your Alpha like that?" the boy said.

Even his voice had changed. It carried authority. The light, youthful pitch vanished completely, replaced by a deep, resonant rumble that made the marble floor vibrate beneath Faye’s legs, her pulse exploding into sheer shock.

Adam bent his waist deeply, his eyes fixed on the floor while his breath hitched tight in his throat, his posture bowing in complete, terrifying submission.

"I’m sorry, Alpha. The guests are looking for you. I was searching everywhere..." Adam stammered out, his chest rising and falling in rapid, nervous puffs of air.

"Do I look like a boy who gets lost easily?" The small looking Alpha demanded coldly, taking a slow step forward while his presence expanded, filling the space with pure, suffocating dominance.

"No, sir." Adam answered instantly, his head dipping lower while his throat swallowed hard.

The boy looked at Faye, who was still sitting on the floor, staring at the two of them with utter confusion. His eyes glided down to meet hers, a faint, unreadable look passing over his face while his breathing remained slow, smooth, and utterly terrifying.

In Faye’s mind, there was only one thought.

What the fuck is happening here?