Page 30 of Dearest Alpha Brothers 1: Vampire Prince

I nearly cried with relief. Benedict would know what to do. Benedict always knew what to do. He probably had a whole chapter in his butler manual aboutWhat to Do When Your Charge Accidentally Seduces Three Brothers Before Breakfast.

At least I hoped he did. Because right now, I needed all the help I could get.

The bath helped. Sort of. At least for those blissful twenty minutes, I managed not to think about the brothers or my mortifying display of vampire-prince-gone-wild. The lavender-scented water and Benedict’s careful ministrations almost made me forget the whole incident.

Almost.

“A soft lavender ensemble today, I think,” Benedict mused as he helped me into a robe. “Something light and elegant for the morning.”

He presented me with quite possibly the most beautiful outfit I’d ever seen. The silk shirt seemed to float like lavender blossoms, with delicate embroidery details that managed to be both refined and sophisticated. The black pants were tailored perfectly, with subtle purple accents that caught the light. The color reminded me of twilight clouds, that perfect moment between purple and midnight.

“It suits you perfectly, Prince,” Benedict said with satisfaction as he helped me into it. The fabric felt like wearing a cloud, if clouds were made of pure luxury and probably cost more than my annual salary.

I stared at my reflection as Benedict worked on my hair. The outfit made me look… impossible. Like I’d stepped out of one of those magical boy anime transformations, except instead of fighting evil, I was apparently trying to die of embarrassment in the most elegant way possible.

A knock at the bedroom door made me jump.

“Luca?” Sylvie’s voice called after a quick knock. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

“Just a minute!” I called back, checking my reflection one last time.

Sylvie bounced into the room, looking unfairly put together in her school uniform, golden curls perfectly styled. Her facelit up when she saw me. “Oh my gosh, that outfit is absolutely perfect on you! The lavender really brings out your eyes.”

She linked her arm through mine, her enthusiasm infectious. “Come on, everyone’s waiting for breakfast. Benedict has your favorite blood type ready.”

The breakfast room was a sun-filled space near the balcony, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of New Vale’s skyline. Harrison stood by the ornate sideboard, directing two staff as they set out the morning spread, while Benedict was already preparing my blood in a lavender-tinted crystal glass.

Great Uncle Johnathan sat at the head of the table, reading what looked like ancient scrolls. Uncle Owen and Aunt Senna were deep in conversation while Hunter was playing a game on his phone.

And then there were the brothers.

I kept my eyes firmly ahead as Sylvie led me to my seat, trying very hard not to notice how Zane’s rich musk and amber mixed with Ryker’s warm spice and bergamot and Archer’s citrus and sunshine. Three very distinct, very tempting scents that definitely weren’t making my fangs ache. Nope. Not at all.

“Good morning, dear.” Aunt Senna smiled warmly. “That color suits you perfectly.”

“Thanks,” I managed, focusing intently on Benedict as he placed my glass in front of me. The blood’s rich aroma helped distract me from… other scents in the room.

“Thank God it’s Friday,” Hunter groaned, finally putting his phone down. “This week’s been brutal. Ms. J threatened to turn me into an alarm clock again.”

“Maybe if you spent less time gaming and more time studying,” Uncle Owen remarked dryly.

“Hey, gaming develops strategic thinking!” Hunter protested. “Right, Uncle Archer?”

Archer winked at Hunter over his coffee. “Absolutely. Some of my best marketing strategies came from raid planning.”

“Please don’t encourage him.” Aunt Senna sighed, but her lips twitched with amusement.

“Speaking of work,” Ryker said, his scent growing stronger as he reached past me for the coffee pot, making my fangs throb, “the security updates for the downtown properties are ready for review, Zane.”

“Work doesn’t stop for clan alphas, even on weekends,” Zane replied, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment, sending electricity down my spine.

“And that, brother”—Archer stretched lazily—”is exactly why I’m glad I’m not the clan head. My weekend plans involve absolutely zero property reviews and at least three raid battles.”

“Your weekend plans…” Zane’s voice was dry as desert sand. “Include the quarterly marketing presentation that was due yesterday.”

“Details, details.” Archer waved his hand dismissively, throwing me a wink that definitely didn’t make my undead heart skip a beat.

I tried to focus on my blood, but it was impossible not to notice how the brothers moved around each other with practiced ease, even as they bickered. Zane’s natural authority, Ryker’s quiet competence, Archer’s playful energy—they balanced each other perfectly.

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