Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 234

Chapter 234: Shielding the Heir

Dorrent walked into the expansive sitting room with a slow, leisurely stride, his heavy footsteps echoing against the floor.

On the center leather sofa, Guron and Himelda were sitting side by side, their eyes fixed on the wall-mounted television screen displaying the evening financial news. The ambient light of the screen flickered across their faces, but the calm atmosphere of the room shattered the exact moment Dorrent approached.

Without a word, Dorrent bypassed the surrounding armchairs and sat down directly on the couch beside his father, leaning his head back against the leather cushion with an unmistakable, triumphant air.

Guron turned his head, his sharp eyes evaluating the relaxed, victorious posture of his son. He muted the television with a flick of his wrist. "You look like a man who just conquered an entire continent, Dorrent. Did something happen?"

"I succeeded," Dorrent declared simply, his voice carrying a deep, resonant rumble that filled the room.

Guron tilted his head, his brow furrowing as a brief flash of impatience crossed his rugged features. "Succeeded in what? Unless it’s about the expansion in the northern sector, the only news I actually care to hear from you right now is that Jannah is pregnant with my grandchild."

Dorrent’s lips slowly curled into a broad, arrogant smile. He turned his eyes toward his father. "That is precisely what I am talking about. She’s pregnant."

The room seemed to freeze for a fraction of a second.

Guron’s eyes widened in sheer, sudden delight. Before any other words could be exchanged, the elder Alpha let out a booming laugh, reaching over to snatch Dorrent into a fierce, suffocating bear hug. He slammed his heavy palm against Dorrent’s broad shoulder with enough force to rattle the furniture, his face beaming with intense pride.

"I knew it!" Guron roared, pulling back to grip Dorrent’s shoulders tightly. "I knew my son wouldn’t fail me! Congratulations, boy! You’ve done exceptional work!"

Sitting on the opposite end of the couch, Himelda’s posture went instantly rigid. Her hands clutched the armrests so hard her knuckles turned stark white. She watched the display between her husband and son with a look of utter, undisguised disgust, her lip curling in bitter contempt.

"What on earth is there to celebrate this early?" Himelda cut in, her voice slicing through Guron’s thunderous laughter like a blade. She sat up straight, crossing her legs with a cold, refined arrogance, staring at Dorrent with absolute disdain. "The pregnancy isn’t even visible yet. Aren’t the two of you counting your chickens far too early?"

Dorrent didn’t even flinch. He casually draped his arm over the back of the sofa, looking at his mother with a cool, unbothered expression. "You wouldn’t understand, Mother."

"Oh, I understand plenty," Himelda scoffed, her voice rising into a sharp, poisonous register. She leaned forward, her bloodshot eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as she locked her gaze onto Dorrent. "Aren’t you worried at all, Dorrent? How can you sit there so proudly when that pregnancy might belong to someone else entirely?"

Guron’s laughter instantly died in his throat. He snapped his head toward his wife, his jaw clenching tightly. "Himelda, watch your mouth—"

"No, Guron, let him hear it!" Himelda snapped back, completely ignoring her husband’s warning growl as she pointed a manicured finger at Dorrent. "There is no possible way that lower-sector girl has given her heart to the man who slaughtered her family! Why haven’t you considered that the baby might belong to Damian Boren?!"

Dorrent’s silver eyes flickered with a brief, dangerous spark, but his posture remained impeccably relaxed.

"I saw how that boy looked at her," Himelda pressed on, her tone dripping with malicious conviction, her face twisting with anxiety. "When Damian Boren was treating her wounds after she was shot, the way he touched her, the way he looked at her—it was obvious! How can you be so blind, Dorrent? She could easily be carrying his blood just to mock you!"

Dorrent slowly adjusted his posture, turning his full, undivided attention to his mother. His gaze was icy, yet dripping with a supreme, untouchable confidence.

"I understand that you can’t accept Jannah because of your late brother, Dean," Dorrent delivered smoothly, his voice dropping an octave into a low, terrifying baritone. "And for your loss, Mother, I am truly sorry. But as for Jannah’s pregnancy... I am absolute in my certainty."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify