Chapter 0457

Hannah

I laughed stiffly. “Funny,” I said, bouncing Melody gently in my arms. “I know she has fairer looks than you, Marcus, but she is your granddaughter.”

Marcus said nothing. His cold, calculating gaze deepened the tightness in my chest. The faint amusement died on my lips as the truth hit me. Oh, Goddess. He was being completely serious.

“Of course she’s your granddaughter,” I scoffed, glancing at Noah, who mirrored my shocked expression. “Who else would she be?”

“Hm. I’m not sure.” Marcus stepped forward, his sharp eyes narrowing on Melody. His gaze lacked the warmth and tenderness of a grandparent meeting a new family member; it was hard, piercing, as though he were inspecting something flawed, something amiss. He reached out to touch her.

A primal instinct surged, and I clutched Melody tighter, pulling her away before he could make contact. As if I’d let him touch my daughter.

“Father,” Noah growled, stepping forward, “What is all this about? Why are you treating our daughter like a specimen?”

Marcus barely acknowledged his son, his gaze still fixed on Melody with a calculating intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, forgive an old man for simply being cautious,” he said, flashing a thin smile that did nothing to ease my anxiety. “In matters like these, one must be certain.”

A sharp stab of anger pierced my growing unease. “Well, she is your granddaughter, Marcus,” I said, my voice colder. “And one day, she will be the Alpha of Silvercrest—probably in your lifetime.”

I paused, eyeing him with undisguised disdain. “If you’re lucky, that is,” I added.

That got his attention. His gaze snapped to mine, his eyes narrowing, a flicker of irritation breaking through his otherwise perfect facade.

“Ah. Silvercrest,” he repeated slowly, as though the name tasted bitter. He leaned back, crossing his arms with a look of mild amusement. “And a female Alpha, no less. How… progressive.”

Sarcasm dripped from his words, but I refused to be baited. A fire burned low in my belly, but I maintained my composure, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing my anger. Noah moved closer, his hand resting gently on my back. “Melody has the female Alpha gene. I’ve already explained this to you, Father. She’s as much an Alpha as any son might have been.”

Marcus’s jaw clenched, though he remained silent. His disapproval was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife; but for now, at least, he seemed smart enough to keep his thoughts to himself.

Afterward, we moved to the dining room in tense silence. The table was laden with delicious-smelling food: rare elk steaks, cream croquettes, glistening green asparagus. Noah hadn’t mentioned his dinner plans, though I assumed he’d asked the chef to prepare something Marcus would like.

Why he would care, I wasn’t sure. Maybe he was trying to impress his father. But the food did look good.

I sat beside Noah, my heart still racing from the earlier exchange. Melody gurgled softly in her high chair between us, oblivious to the tension as she played with her bib. But as my gaze drifted toward Marcus, I noticed his eyes still on her, watching, calculating.

The first course began. Marcus uncorked the wine, insisting on pouring it himself, and for a short while, the clinking of silverware and quiet coos from Melody were the only sounds that broke the suffocating silence. My appetite had disappeared entirely, but I forced myself to eat for appearances’ sake.

But it wasn’t long before Marcus broke the fragile peace. “I must admit,” he began, his voice deceptively light, “I’m still having trouble believing this child is truly my granddaughter.”