True Alpha's Chosen Mate-Chapter 300: Here’s your chicken

Paris was the least of my concern at the moment. If he knew I met this werewolf before today, I was certain he would understand if I explained the reason. However, every single one in this dining hall was the duke’s eyes and ears. They would surely tell the duke about it, and Octavian would most likely hold it against me.

Not that I was afraid of what he would do to me, but what terrified me was what he would make me do. I held my breath as Sven’s lips parted with his twinkling russet eyes on me.

"Hey!" to my relief, before Sven could speak, Paris spoke before him. "I heard you’re the duke’s guest, and I was a bit intrigued when he talked about you so happily."

Paris finally stepped out from where we were hiding and stood by the door. I automatically straightened my back out of instinct and kept my poise. I then followed Paris inside the dining hall, looking for a seat that was on the farthest corner across from Sven, and then settled on it. My little brother dragged the chair right across Sven, not caring about the stacked-up plates that were yet to be removed because of how fast the wild werewolf was eating.

Thanks to our sudden appearance, the servants took this opportunity to remove the plates. That second, Paris and Sven stared at each other. The former had his arms crossed, trying so hard to stop himself from scrunching his nose up in dismay but failed, miserably.

Sven was quite a sight. There were still crumbs on the corner of his mouth and sauces around it as if he was a child. I had always known this person had no notion of etiquette and manners, but it was still unbelievable and annoying if one didn’t also have basic table manners.

"So?" Sven smiled and blinked after a minute of silence since our arrival. "What do you want?" he asked without beating around the bush. His tone wasn’t intimidating or condescending, nor did it sound vigilant. If anything, it seemed he was asking because he was genuinely curious, and that was all.

Paris pressed his lips before he smacked them. "I came here because I want you to become my sandbag," answered my little brother bluntly.

I lowered my head and scratched my temple. I should’ve known, I thought. Paris was also the type who never hold back in his words. Unlike me, who was used to bottling up everything, Paris was the complete opposite. He was the type who wouldn’t be able to scheme and create a meticulous plan without sabotaging it himself.

"Your sandbag?" Sven tilted his head, puzzled by the invitation.

"Yes. His Grace said you took down a few of his men. So I came here to invite you to become my sparring partner with little hope, obviously."

"Then, why sandbag?"

"Isn’t it obvious? Because I’m that strong. I don’t want you whining when you get hurt and run to the duke crying."

"Oh... like you will beat me black and blue?" Sven nodded before stabbing the fork into the meat on the plate and shoving it into his mouth without looking away from Paris.

"I won’t kill you... that’s for sure." Paris rocked his head.

Sven didn’t answer as he chewed his food down. "Just to clarify, when you said sandbag... you want me to not move while you beat me?"

"I said sandbag because I know you might end up like that instead of a proper sparring partner."

"Ahh..." Once again, Sven shove a piece of meat inside his mouth and nodded in understanding. "Alright."

’What?’ I tilted my head when he agreed, glancing at Paris, who also knitted his brows.

"Alright, what?" Paris inquired since we weren’t sure if he was agreeing to get beaten mercilessly.

"I won’t move," Sven answered as he continued to eat without care, albeit he slowed down since our arrival. "I admit, I am a terrible sparring partner. It’s better if you just beat me black and blue. I heal quickly, so it’s fine."

"..."

I wasn’t the only one who was rendered speechless, but everyone who had ears and heard him was dumbfounded. Even Paris was a bit taken aback at how relaxed the man across from him was while speaking about getting beaten.

Who wouldn’t? I knew everyone in this place wasn’t all sane, but no one wanted to get beaten that easily!

Paris frowned. "Are you taking me lightly?"

"Huh?"

"The duke said you’re quite capable. Are you telling me I’m not even worth your time, so you’d rather get beaten up instead of trying?"

This time, Sven scrunched his nose up before he leaned his arms against the edge of the table. He then raised a finger in front of his ear and moved it in a circular motion.

"Hey, are you crazy?" he asked in disbelief. "You asked me to be your sandbag, and I agreed. But the second I did, you pick on me! Man... why is everyone making things so complicated?"

"You..." when Paris’ eyes darkened as his eyelids dropped until they were partially closed, I knew I had to step in.

"Paris," I called, but he didn’t look in my direction. "Sir Sven accepted your invitation. There is no need to prolong this conversation since we’ve already met with our agenda."

There was a silence after my remarks. I studied Paris’ side profile before shifting my eyes to the man across from him, only to flinch when Sven shot me a side-eye. He didn’t say anything, though, as he set his eyes back to Paris and smiled.

"Come on, young master. Of course, I’ll try to save myself if I knew you’d kill me! But I’m not lying when I said I’m a terrible sparring partner. I get... distracted," he explained with the same light tone, smiling brightly, and then continued on finishing his one-man feast.

Paris remained silent, and I knew him so well that I knew he was planning something in his head. But that was none of my concern. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"... I’ll surely force you to save yourself," he mumbled, but Sven smiled.

"Sure, sure. Here’s your chicken." Sven suddenly tossed a chicken wing across the table which landed right in front of Paris. "For you too."

I flinched when a chicken leg landed in front of me. When I raised my gaze, I caught the barbaric man grinning.

"Eat plenty. You’re too thin I’m afraid the wind will blow you away."

"..."