Bought a Wolf Pup at the Black Market, Found Out His Father Is Alpha King Chapter 03
Chapter 3 Anonymous Messages
That day, right after I made him wash the dishes, my phone buzzed.
[Unknown Number 1: That pup is Alpha King Soren’s son. His wolf form is an ancient white wolf, the strongest battle bloodline there is. How’d you end up training him like a dog?]
I frowned, thinking somebody had texted the wrong number.
[Unknown Number 2: Poor little guy. He lost his mom so early. Then he got lost, lost his memory, and now he’s getting abused by this woman.]
[Unknown Number 3: Don’t worry. Alpha King Soren already ordered a citywide search. He hates humans. If he finds out his son’s been treated like this by some woman, he’ll tear her to pieces.]
My chest seized.
Wait—whose son?
Slowly, I raised my head and looked toward the kitchen.
Dylan was standing on a stool in his cartoon apron, his chubby little face full of impatience as he scrubbed a plate.
“One more plate,” I said.
“When you’re done, come over and give me a shoulder rub.”
“No. Forget the shoulder rub.”
“Then what? My back?”
“No. I mean when you’re done, go rest. You don’t have to wait on me.”
Dylan put down the rag and turned to stare at me, his little brows pinched together like a stern miniature grown-up.
“Did I make you mad again?”
“No.”
“Say it.”
He crossed his arms.
“Was it because you caught me sneaking half an hour of TV today, or because you found the broccoli I stuffed into the couch?”
What?
Rage shot through me, but I forced it down when I remembered the texts.
“It was neither. I just think maybe I’ve been too strict with you. You’re already six. You should have your own judgment. From now on, if you want to watch TV, watch TV. If you want to toss broccoli, toss broccoli.”
Dylan narrowed his eyes and stared at me for a full five seconds.
“So you’re not mad?”
“I’m not.”
“You’d better not be lying.”
He gave a chilly little snort.
“I finished the dishes. And don’t even think about cheating me out of my allowance.”
Then he stalked off with his face set in a stubborn pout.
I watched his stiff little back and quietly let out a breath.
If I treated him better for a while… then when his real father finally came for him, Dylan would probably say something nice about me.
Right?
