Percy's Table Novels & Stories

To Percival: How did you know my name?!

I pulled him back and said, "Lucy's sudden disappearance might be related to her getting pregnant before marriage. Maybe she doesn't want anyone to find out about it. If you go up to them so brazenly, she would be caught in an awkward position." Patrick seemed to realize that he had acted out of turn. He put on a forced smile and answered, "You're right. Thank goodness you're thoughtful." I dragged him away to take a seat. As we watched Lucille and Samuel from afar, I commented nonchalantly, "Her boyfriend's pretty handsome." Patrick's features were delicate, and he looked every part a refined gentleman. Samuel, however, was tall and buff, and he had a commanding presence. The fact was, if w

It was my little secret. Well… except for him. There was this one spot at the table I always claimed as a pup, right next to Darius. And across from me—like clockwork—was Percival. I’d sneak glances at him while he chewed or burst into laughter. And somehow, like he had a radar for my gaze, his eyes would lock onto mine. He’d smirk that knowing, mischievous smirk of his and wink, and I’d turn beet red while everyone else remained blissfully unaware.

Their eyes sharpened with fierce determination. Percy spoke in a pitiful tone. "Cyrus, it's me, Percy. My family's food is gone. For the sake of us being colleagues, could you spare some?" He wore a pleading expression, but his hand hovered near his coat, ready to draw the knife. Cyrus leaned casually against the door. "I don't have any food left either. Can't help you with that." Behind the door, Diana and Natalie silently cursed. No food? What about the seven or eight boxes of dried scallops, abalones, and other delicacies in your kitchen? Are they all just decorations?

He’s kind of taken Gabriel under his wing as a seer. Percy comes to our family dinners every night, Allie always joins us too. Percy plays with Ares and Augustus every night. He plays so well with Augustus that you wouldn’t be able to tell that he wasn’t his child. He treated them equally and divided his attention between them. This past month, though, Percy’s been distracted and looking a bit down. Ares could always get him smiling again. I’ve tried to ask him what’s wrong, but he always tells me nothing. I know he’s lying, but I don’t have a way of getting the truth from him. I just hope, whatever it is, isn’t too bad. I hope he shares it with me soon. Kiran: What should I make for dinner

“I thought we could hang out, eat something. Just be here, of you wanted.” I stared at him. Percy, the second son of the most powerful Alpha in the country, standing in my small room at midnight with two boxes of pizza, suggesting we hang out. “Okay,” I said again, for the second time tonight. He smiled. He looked a little surprised, like he hadn’t been sure I’d say yes. My chest twisted in a way I didn’t try to untangle. “Good,” he said. We sat on the bed with the pizza boxes between us. Percy reached into his bag and pulled out his laptop, setting it on the pillow. Then, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it over the back of my desk chair.

He nodded to the two uniformed security guards, who opened a huge double door that led to a large room dominated by a long table with chairs. Mr. Percival sat at the head of the table, a blank look on his face. Mrs. Amelia and Vyr sat closest to him on either side, then Adrian and Torvin. “Sorry we’re late,” Carrie said as she settled beside her alpha, who acknowledged her with a quick smile. Lucian sat between Zeda and Adrian. “No problem, dear,” Mr. Percival replied, then turned to Lucian. “How are you doing, Prince Lucian?” “I’m feeling better,” Lucian assured him with a smile.

Her eyes move between us, and she stops for a second when she notices Percy. “Oh, you’re back,” she says lightly. “When did you come in?” “Not quite long,” Percy replies, his tone controlled again. Anita’s gaze shifts to the table and then to me. A small smile appears on her face. “She made all this,” she says proudly. Percy looks at me again, slightly surprised. Anita continues smoothly, “Yes, she did. You should try it.” For a moment, the tension softens. Percy takes another spoonful, slower this time, like he’s thinking. Then he nods again.

“And honestly, fun to watch when she’s on a mission.” The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of laughter, debates over flower arrangements, fabric swatches, and cake designs. Mom insisted that Percy help pick the napkin colors while I was in charge of table centerpieces. Somehow, we managed to turn it into a small adventure, teasing each other and joking over tiny disagreements about shades of gold and lavender. “Too bright!” Percy exclaimed, holding up something that made me hiss. “It clashes with the tablecloth.” “Too dull!” Mom countered, waving her hands dramatically. “It looks like mourning clothes for a funeral!”