Sold To The Alphas I Hate - Chapter 184

Chapter 184: Kael And The Kid
Kael’s POV

I looked at Eira. There was certainly some desperation in her eyes as she looked at Raven. Through the bond we shared, I could feel her restlessness.

She was definitely trying to figure out if he was her child. Well, she wasn’t an idiot. But I had to keep the truth from her for a while.

Just then, Lucian said, “Raven, let’s freshen up…”

I quickly interfered, my voice was calm and composed. “I will do it.”

Lucian offered me a surprised gaze, as did the others. They probably hadn’t expected me to volunteer to take care of the kid. But I just wanted to.

I looked back at them. “You three are tired as well and need to freshen up.”

“Are you sure you can?” Lucian asked in confusion.

I sighed inwardly. What did they take me for, a stone, someone who knew nothing about kids?

I offered him a cold glare. “I used to take care of all those kids in my parents’ home whenever I visited there—not one, but all seven.”

“Oh. Then, I’ll leave him to you,” Lucian said and turned to Raven. “You can go with him.”

I stood up, and the kid got down from the sofa, ready to leave with me. It was a relief that he was obedient and was ready to follow me though I was a stranger to him.

Did he follow Lucian’s people just like this? What if our enemies asked him to follow them, will he do the same. Damn! This was worrisome now.

I turned to Roman. “Look after Eira.”

He offered me an assuring gaze.

I picked up the bags that were placed on the table. They were the things I had already ordered for him, since there was nothing in this home that a child needed.

Carrying the bags in one hand, I walked to the staircase, while the kid followed me in silence. When we reached the staircase, he climbed each stair in a composed manner. Of course, he was small, so it took time for him to climb those stairs.

I wondered if I should lift him in my arms and walk at my pace, but seeing him so self-sufficient, I decided otherwise. I slowly followed him, allowing him to take his time.

I shouldn’t impose myself on him or let him feel like he had no free will in this home.

We reached my room. I opened the door for him and entered. He followed me inside.

I placed the bags on the table and pulled out a few things while he stood quietly on one side, looking around the room.

“This is my room,” I told him, and he looked back at me, his eyes still calm. “You can stay here until your own room is ready, which might take a few more days.”

He didn’t respond.

I walked toward the bathroom carrying those few things in my hands—kids’ products. “I am arranging these in the bathroom for you. You can come take a look.”

He followed me into the grand bathroom of my room. I arranged his things on the shower counter next to mine.

Meanwhile, he had already started removing his clothes without me even directing him what to do. He folded them neatly and looked around for something.

“It’s there,” I told him.

He walked toward the laundry basket and put the clothes in. I could only watch him in surprise. He was so particular about things, didn’t hesitate even at strangers’ place, and strictly followed what he was taught.

Without hesitation, he went to the shower and looked at the knobs.

I was about to tell him which one was for hot water, but he had already turned it on and stood under the stream. He glanced at the product counter.

He wouldn’t be able to reach it. I felt I was needed, finally. I got a shower gel bottle for him. He accepted it, and I told him, “I will arrange a short-height counter for you here.”

He didn’t respond and continued to shower in silence. His actions were measured and practiced, as if he was used to doing it all on his own. He was entirely self-reliant.

It made me feel this was going to make it difficult to reach him. Both mother and son were the same—silent, withdrawn, locked inside themselves.

No matter how much you tried to communicate, he didn’t say a single word.

Once he was done with the shower, I took the small kids’ bathrobe I had prepared and wrapped him in it. He didn’t resist. In fact, he resisted nothing at all.

I made him stand on the small stool I’d placed in front of the grand washbasin, and we both stared at our reflections in the wide mirror.

“It’s cold. We need to dry your hair,” I told him, already reaching for the hairdryer.

Standing behind him, I worked slowly, my fingers brushing through his soft hair as the warm air flowed. The scent from his hair was the same as Eira, or it was just my mind was deluding me into thinking.

He remained quiet, unmoving, as if silence was his shield.

I decided to try anyway, hoping to draw at least a few words out of him.

“Are you used to doing everything on your own?” I asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

He gave a small nod. At least he wasn’t rude enough to ignore me completely.

“Didn’t you have a nanny?” I pressed gently.

Another nod saying he had a nanny.

“You can answer me in yes or no,” I told him, searching his expression for anything more.

He gave no reaction. His face remained calm, unreadable.

A thought crept into my mind, heavy and unsettling.

Is he mute?

I hoped not. That would make it even more difficult to make him one of us, to teach him to live like the kids of his age should.

Once done, we returned to the room. I pulled out the clothes I had ordered, meant for a boy his age.

A white short-sleeved T-shirt with the cartoon of a baby wolf on it, and light-colored pants to match.

I held them up to show him. “I think the size is perfect.”

He simply stared at the clothes, unmoved.

I realized something. If he had been taught to be so proper, his clothes must have always been like those of an adult, like the ones he wore earlier—formal, as if for school.

“I didn’t know what you prefer, so I just ordered what was available for kids. For now, we only have this. But tomorrow, I’ll take you out shopping so you can buy whatever you like.”

Damn. I suddenly felt like I was being so submissive, so careful in front of a child. For god’s sake, I was the most powerful Alpha, yet here I was, trying to please a kid.

Nevermind. I could do it. Because he was her child—and from now on, mine as well.

In response, he stepped forward, took the clothes from me, and began wearing them without hesitation.

He needed no one’s help. Only god could help us now to get close to him.

Once he was done wearing the clothes, I realized he looked so adorable in something so casual.

“These kinds of clothes suit you,” I told him.

He didn’t respond and walked over to the mirror. He observed his reflection, then started fixing his hair with his small hands, fingers combing through those short, well-trimmed strands.

He set them neatly without much effort. Even Lucian took more time to style his hair, always fussing over how it looked.

I thought he would look even cuter if his hair were grown out a little instead of being kept so trimmed and adult-like.

He wasn’t even my child, yet I had already started to think like a father—already planning things for him. I had started even before he arrived, buying children’s things, preparing a room for him.

Maybe I had already considered him my child since the moment I saw his picture. Something about him had pulled me in, filling my mind with thoughts of him.

Strange, but gladly acceptable.