Chapter 103: Why aren’t you eating?

Before my mother’s heartfelt speech of gratitude, both men had been strangely fixated on my plate, competing to pile it high with roasted fish, grilled vegetables, and prime cuts. I wasn’t a picky eater by any means, but when the food on my plate began to form a literal mountain, my patience ran out.

STAB.

I slammed my fork firmly into a piece of fish, making the porcelain ring out sharp in the silent room.

"Will you two cut it out?" I asked deadpan, side-eyeing both of them.

Edgar and Benjamin cleared their throats simultaneously. Smoothly, Edgar withdrew his hand from my thigh, picked up his napkin, and began calmly peeling a large, seasoned jumbo shrimp before dropping it onto my plate.

"Promise, this is the last one," he shamelessly said and once again, I sighed.

That was when I noticed Benjamin’s bowl.

While everyone else was feasting on the massive spread, Benjamin had barely touched anything.

His plate held nothing except a small scoop of white rice and a meager bowl of plain beef soup. He was sitting there like a silent, dark shadow, ruining the entire festive mood of the table just by existing.

Wasn’t he the one who wanted to sit for dinner? So, what was he doing now? Did he need a green light or something?

"Why aren’t you eating?" I asked, turning to face him directly.

Benjamin didn’t answer. Whether it was his natural arrogance, his high-born pride, or some secret he didn’t care to share, he just stared straight ahead with an indifferent, tight jaw.

Tired of his brooding, I picked up a plump, perfectly glazed chili shrimp from the center platter with my fork.

I placed it on my plate, peeled it with my own hands and then brought it directly to his lips.

"Eat," I commanded softly.

Benjamin froze. The entire table seemed to pause with him. Edgar stopped swirling his wine glass, his golden eyes narrowing into a sharp, observant line as he watched us.

Jayden cleared his throat loudly from across the table, his brain visibly melting as he watched me lean close to the Almond heir. From his perspective, it looked like a scene of pure, tender concern.

The sheer, unexpected proximity stunned Benjamin for a whole three seconds. His purple eyes locked onto mine, completely speechless. Before his stalling brain could process what was happening, I smoothly pushed the shrimp past his lips.

He took it into his mouth instinctively, still staring at me like he was under a spell.

"So?" I asked, watching his face closely. "How is it?"

He chewed once, swallowed, and said, "It’s... delicious."

But then, he started coughing.

It wasn’t a mild throat-clear. Benjamin suddenly began coughing violently, a harsh, hacking sound that racked his entire upper frame as he slammed a hand against his chest, his face flushing dark.

Edgar let out a long, dry sigh, leaning back in his chair with an amused scoff. "You idiot. You know you’re allergic to shellfish, yet you sat there and swallowed it like a moron."

I froze, and blinked, my brain momentarily short-circuiting. "He’s allergic to shrimp? Wait... wolves get shrimp allergies?!"

I don’t think that’s what I should be focusing on at the moment.

I stared at the gasping Alpha beside me, my confusion instantly turning into sharp, furious disbelief. I rounded on him, my eyes narrowing into slits. "If you’re allergic, why didn’t you just say so?! Why did you take the shrimp?!"

Benjamin leaned back, clutching his throat with one hand while a slow, wicked smirk broke through his breathless strain.

"It’s because..." Benjamin rasped, his purple eyes burning straight into mine through his watering lashes, "...you took my breath away."

. . .

The entire dining room plunged into absolute, dead silence.

Jayden’s fork slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly against his plate. Jordan stared at Benjamin with his mouth hanging wide open, while my mother and father exchanged a wildly uncomfortable, wide-eyed look across the table. Did the Almond heir just say that out loud?!

He did, while suffocating no less.

My heart gave a sudden, violent thump against my ribs—a strange, chaotic flutter that felt completely ridiculous. A sudden flush ran straight up my neck and into my face for no reason at all.

I snapped my head away instantly, crossing my arms so tightly my knuckles turned white.

"You’re an idiot, that’s what you are," I muttered, my voice tight as I desperately tried to ignore the strange rhythm in my chest.

This stupid guy... Even now, he was still trying to act cool. He should just drop down and die.

Wait, no, my family will be implicated if the Almond Heir dies while having dinner with us. I can’t have that.

I turned my back on him and glared directly at Edgar. "Do you have any allergy medications in this house? We can’t let him die."

Edgar didn’t even bother getting up. He simply pressed a silver chime set into the underside of the dining table, and within five seconds, the estate manager appeared silently in the doorway, holding a small velvet-lined case.

It was almost as if he had predicted this the moment, he saw the spread and informed the manager to get it all ready.

It would’ve been a thousand times better if he had warned me beforehand. These two cousins were definitely messing with me by withholding such important information.

"An Epi-pen and high-grade antihistamines, Alpha Edgar," the manager murmured, bowing as he placed the vial and syringe beside Edgar’s glass.

"Good man," Edgar said, casually picking up the auto-injector and twirling it between his fingers like a fountain pen.

He looked over at Benjamin, who was still leaning back against his chair, breathing through his teeth with his chest heaving, though that maddening smirk hadn’t completely left his lips.

"You know, Benjamin," Edgar drawled, his golden eyes sparkling with pure, unadulterated amusement, "most wolves in the Almond pack display their devotion through grand feats of strength or territory expansion. I didn’t realize the next heir’s strategy involved suicide by seafood just to get a girl to look at him with concern."

"Shut... up, Edgar," Benjamin rasped, his voice raw as he glared at his cousin through narrowed, watering eyes.

"And to think," Edgar continued smoothly, uncapping the injector with an effortless click, "you dragged yourself through a street market, sat through a full family dinner, and nearly asphyxiated on a single prawn—all without lighting a single one of your precious cigarettes. If your father saw you right now, he’d wonder if I replaced you with a circus act."