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The cheese layer was so tender that it practically melted in the mouth.

The combined flavor of blueberry and vanilla ice cream was so sweet, but it did not stick to the throat. It was like eating a scoop of cloud.

The entire dinner was so fulfilling that for once Ronan did not utter a single word of complaint.

Good-mooded and a little tipsy from the wine, he decided to talk about some stuff in the past.

“Say, Lulu,” Ronan spoke to his mate. “Did you really think that Lillian’s baby was mine?”

Lucien hummed.

“Well, judging from the rate of how you went from bed to bed, it was not unlikely, was it?”

Ronan cleared his throat.

.....

An inexplicable chill suddenly crept up his spine. The same kind of chill one experienced when danger was imminent. It was his fight-or-flight response.

‘You idiot,’ Beowulf suddenly spoke up in his head. ‘Ronan, you are digging your own grave.’

The wolf could not believe how stupid Ronan could be sometimes.

‘...’

Beowulf turned out to be right.

It seemed that Lucien had been brooding over this topic for a while. Since Ronan so freely walked into his arms of judgment, he happily wrapped his claws around him and refused to let go.

“Sooo, tell me. How many men and women were there after we broke up back then?” Lucien asked while he leaned back against his cushioned chair.

His lips were pulled into a smile, but his eyes were not smiling at all.

When Ronan sat there in silence with dread written all over his face, Lucien chuckled and added, “Tell me, I won’t get mad.”

“...”

There was no use avoiding it. Sooner or later, Lucien was going to ask the same thing again. When he found out later, his reactions might be worse.

Ronan coughed into his fist. The knot at his throat rolled up and down nervously.

“Not... Not many.”

“How much is not many?”

Ronan rubbed at his face and cursed at himself. He could not regret breaching the topic more. By then, the wine effect was gone, replaced by cold and judicial sobriety.

“Maybe two or three...”

Lucien was about to open his mouth and say, “Liar” when he heard the last word that Ronan said with the lowest voice ever.

“...hundred.”

Lucien’s dessert fork dropped on the table.

Two or three hundred?

He stared at his mate in disbelief.

“More like two hundred, really,” Ronan said in a hurry. “I had orgies some nights...”

Orgies, huh?

Lucien knew that Ronan had an awful reputation as a womanizer, but after knowing the truth, he felt that the word “womanizer” was insufficient to describe Ronan’s decadence.

“Wow,” Lucien mumbled. “You are way worse than your father.”

Ronan was deeply ashamed of his past adventures, but in his defense, he did not know better. What else could he do back then? He had tasted heaven in Alpha Camp a few times but then he was ruthlessly tossed to hell right after.

The only thing that Ronan never ceased to regret was the fact that Lucien got tortured by the rejection backlash every time Ronan indulged himself with various men and women.

“Sorry,” Ronan clasped his hands in front of his face and bowed his head. “I didn’t know that you would get hurt because I slept around.”

Lucien scoffed.

He beckoned the butler to approach for more wine.

“Wow,” he repeated. “Just wow.”

Ronan felt like a sinner on the way to the execution platform, but he still had to plead for mercy.

“Lulu, are you upset? I am so sorry.”

Lucien took another sip of wine after the butler refilled their glasses.

‘Two to three hundred eh? Wow. I knew it was bad but not this bad,’ Landon commented.

‘Mmh.’

‘Should we castrate him?’

‘Maybe next time if he cheats on us again.’

Landon giggled viciously.

Lucien finished his wine and then pinned Ronan with a cold stare.

He was the one who asked the question. Ronan gave him an open and honest answer, so Lucien had no reason to get mad.

“It’s fine. We were broken up back then. I just didn’t know that you were such a slut.”

“I am your slut now,” Ronan made pretty eyes at Lucien shamelessly. “I belong to you and no one else.”

“You better be. If you cheat on me, Landon is going to castrate you.”

“...”

Beowulf whimpered in Ronan’s head.

‘I am NOT going to cheat!’ Ronan growled. ‘Have a little trust in me, B!’

“And by the way, how did you manage to not get a single one of them pregnant?”

“...”

Another uncomfortable question.

Ronan coughed into his fist again. “I was very careful.”

His Luna squinted at him, his eyes full of suspicion.

“No one can be that careful,” he said. “Maybe you do have some illegitimate children running around.”

“I don’t.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I am absolutely sure. I covered all the bases.”

Ronan rose to his feet and walked leisurely around the table toward Lucien.

He then pulled his mate to his arms and rubbed the latter’s stomach.

“My babies will be born through you, my Luna.”

Lucien turned red.

It was the wine, he told himself.

The red-blonde man looked away in embarrassment.

“Technically, they will be born through the lab-grown womb.”

“It still is your womb, sharing your flesh and blood.”

“Mmh.”

Ronan ran his hands down and squeezed Lucien’s squishy rear ends.

“I love you so much, my Luna.”

“I love you too, my debauched Alpha.”

Ronan scoffed.

Lucien chuckled, and then he gave his mate a deep kiss on the lips.

Filled with good food and good wine, with his beautiful and forgiving mate to accompany him, the Alpha was so happy that nothing could ruin the night for him.

Not even Annalynne and Lowell, who came back a while later.

.....

Lucien was quickly dragged away by Annalynne to sit together on the pool lounges, while Ronan and Lowell were left to breathe in some fresh air on the balcony.

Lowell was extremely nervous in Ronan’s presence.

The first reason was their obvious status difference.

The second reason was Ronan’s sharp instincts.

“So,” Ronan cocked his head at the man. “When did you start sleeping with Anna?”