I Kept the Alpha’s Secret Heir

Dean stood at the doorway, his gaze bouncing between Nathan and me, his jaw set in a tight line.

I arched a brow, amused as I watched his fists clench at his sides. Was he really jealous? That was rich, considering he was the one parading Cecelia around like a trophy.

"Why the hell are you two in here?" Dean finally growled.

Nathan, to his credit, didn't back down. "We were just talking," he said simply, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Dean scoffed. "In a bedroom?"

I let out a short laugh, stepping forward. "Oh? Is it so strange that I'm talking to Nathan in private?" I tilted my head, eyes narrowing. "Because I don't remember you having a problem when you talk to my sister alone."

Dean stiffened. That shut him up.

I saw it—the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the way his lips parted just slightly like he wanted to deny it, but couldn't. Satisfaction curled in my chest like a warm ember. He had no rebuttal.

Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply before changing the subject. "The party starts soon. You two should get ready."

And just like that, he turned on his heel and left.

I smirked at his retreating figure, but beside me, Nathan sighed. "Hannah, you shouldn't provoke him like that," he said in a low voice.

I turned to him, my amusement dimming. "Why not? He deserves to feel just as humiliated as we do."

Nathan rubbed his temple. "Dean isn't just some arrogant Alpha—he's calculating. If you keep poking at him, he'll find a way to turn things against us."

I lifted my chin. "Let him try. I know how he works." I met Nathan’s gaze with determination. "I'm done playing nice, Nathan. He thinks he can walk all over me while flaunting my own sister in front of me? No. He doesn't get to have that satisfaction."

Nathan hesitated, then sighed, nodding. "Just be careful, Hannah."

The grand hall was already packed with guests by the time we descended the stairs. Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowd, and the soft hum of conversation filled the space. The scent of expensive perfume and wine lingered in the air, mixing with the delicate aroma of fresh flowers.

I was painfully aware of the plain dress I wore—simple, understated, and nothing like the extravagant gowns the other women flaunted. But I didn't care. If Cecelia expected me to wither under her shadow, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

As if on cue, Cecelia appeared before me, wearing an obnoxiously smug smile. Her red gown shimmered under the light, clinging to her in all the right places.

"Why do you look like a granny?" she asked, voice dripping with mockery. "Honestly, Hannah, you're embarrassing."

I met her gaze, unbothered. "Let's see who's more embarrassing tonight," I said smoothly, smiling.

Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but then she flipped her hair and sauntered off.

I exhaled slowly, pushing down the wave of irritation that threatened to surface. Not tonight, Cecelia. You won’t get to me tonight.

The party went on in a blur of chatter and music. I sat at my table, sipping from my glass of wine, while my supposed mate twirled my sister across the ballroom floor. Their laughter rang louder than the music itself, their movements synchronized, effortless.

I ignored the way my stomach twisted.

But the murmurs around me didn’t go unnoticed.

"Isn't she the Alpha’s mate?"

"Why is he dancing with Cecelia like that?"

"Poor thing… he barely acknowledges her."

Pity. It was written all over their faces. And I hated it.

Before I could drown in my own thoughts, Nathan slid into the seat beside me. "Dance with me."

I blinked at him. "What?"

He gestured toward the dance floor. "You heard me. Dance with me."

I let out a breathy laugh. "Nathan, I'm a terrible dancer."

His lips curled into a small smile. "Then I'll teach you."

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to put on some kind of spectacle, but then I caught a glimpse of Dean. He was still dancing with Cecelia, but his gaze was on me now.

And just like that, I decided.

"Okay," I murmured.

Nathan took my hand, leading me to the center of the room. He placed one hand on my waist, the other clasping my fingers.

"Just follow my lead," he whispered.

And I did.

At first, I stumbled—awkward, hesitant. But Nathan was patient, guiding me with gentle movements. Soon, the music carried us, and for the first time that night, I wasn't thinking about Dean.

I was enjoying myself.

But then, I caught sight of Dean again.

His expression was unreadable, but his grip on Cecelia had tightened. His jaw was locked, his eyes burning with something dangerously close to jealousy.

As soon as the dance ended, Dean was there.

"You need to keep your distance from my brother," he said, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

I let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Why? You think you can dictate who I spend my time with?"

His glare deepened. "I am your mate, Hannah."

My amusement turned cold. "Are you?" I tilted my head, my eyes locking onto his. "Because from where I'm standing, it seems like you're more concerned about Cecelia than me."

Dean's lips pressed into a thin line, his face flushing with something dangerously close to shame.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "If I should keep my distance from Nathan, then maybe you should stay away from Cecelia."

His face hardened.

But before Dean could respond, Cecelia’s voice rang out across the hall.

"Everyone, may I have your attention?"

The crowd quieted, all eyes turning toward her.

And in that moment, I knew—whatever she was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.