Rejected and Pregnant: Claimed By The Dark Alpha Prince-Chapter 706: Using my title against me

Dominick stared down at the steaming plate of pasta Jeniva had set before him as he studied the unique blend of ingredients.

"Doesn’t His Highness like the look of it?" she asked, pulling out a chair and settling across from him, her eyes tracking his every movement.

"I haven’t even tasted it yet," Dominick replied, his voice low as he leaned in closer to the plate. "It’s just... I’ve never seen a pasta dish prepared quite like this before. It doesn’t look like anything the palace chefs serve."

"That’s because it’s my own invention," Jeniva answered with a hint of pride. "Back home, everyone loved it. It was always the first thing to disappear at the table."

Dominick finally lifted his fork and spoon, swirling a few strands of the pasta together. Jeniva sat in expectant silence as she watched him take the first bite, waiting for him to confirm that her home-cooked meal was worthy of a prince’s palate.

Dominick set his fork and spoon down against the fine china with a soft click. "It’s definitely delicious," he said, his gaze lifting to meet hers with a sincere smile.

"Really?" Jeniva asked, her hands coming together in a small, hopeful gesture of excitement.

"Yes," Dominick answered firmly. "I like it. The flavors are... unexpected, but very good."

That statement made Jeniva feel relieved. They ate in companionable silence for a moment before Jeniva spoke up, "You have the privilege of everything within those palace walls. It must feel like a true blessing when you have every luxury and every person at your command."

"What exactly are you trying to imply?" Dominick mused. He rested his fork back on the edge of the plate, leaning back slightly as he finished chewing, his dark eyes sparkling with curiosity and amusement.

"You’re learning to live for yourself now," Jeniva noted. "You actually go out to buy your own things, to see the world with your own eyes, unlike back at the palace where everything is brought to you."

"I suppose I’m learning how to be independent, then," Dominick said with a thoughtful nod. "But honestly? It’s fun. There is a freedom here that doesn’t exist behind those gates. At the very least, your every movement isn’t being tracked by a dozen different departments."

He shifted in his seat. "In the palace, every choice you make is recorded and analyzed. It’s all in the name of safety, of course, but it means you can never truly have privacy. I’ll admit, before I came here, I loved the palace life, even if it was monotonous. But now? I find myself preferring this. I know I’m privileged in ways most people can’t imagine, but this quiet... it’s a different kind of wealth."

"Hmm." Jeniva nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to her plate.

"Don’t you agree with me?" Dominick asked, sensing the shift in her mood.

"My family wasn’t well-off," she began, her voice carrying the weight of years of effort. "The kind of struggle I grew up with... it makes you tired in a way that’s hard to describe. While other girls were out enjoying their youth, I couldn’t afford to do the same. As an Omega, the odds were already stacked against me. I had to train thrice as hard as anyone else just to prove I belonged in the Sentinel Department."

"You’ve fought for every inch of ground you stand on," Dominick murmured, his respect for her deepening. He watched her for a moment before resuming his meal.

When the meal was finished and Jeniva moved to gather the plates, Dominick stood and reached for them first. He headed toward the kitchen, but Jeniva was quick, stepping in front of the sink to block his path. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"I can’t let a Prince do this kind of work," she stated firmly, her arms crossed as she stood her ground.

Dominick looked down at her, the dirty plates still in his hands and a playful glint in his eyes. "And I can’t let my date do all the work after she spent the morning cooking for me. Move aside, Jeniva. I’m an independent man now, remember?"

"You might be independent, but you’re still a prince," Jeniva countered, her voice softening but her stance remaining firm.

"Didn’t you say you wanted to treat me as an equal?" Dominick remarked, a teasing glint in his eyes as he caught her gaze. "Now, you’re using my title against me just to win an argument." He moved forward with gentle persistence, nudging her aside just enough to reach the faucet. "Go on. You can wipe down the counters while I handle these."

Jeniva finally relented with a slow nod, picking up a cloth to clean the countertop. She watched from the corner of her eye as Dominick rinsed the plates with surprising care. It felt surreal to see a man of his stature standing at a basic kitchen sink, his sleeves pushed up and his hands covered in soap suds.

"If you had done something like this in the palace, then—"

"Then I would have been scolded," he finished for her, pointing a sudsy finger toward her. "The staff would have been summoned and likely punished for letting me lift a finger for such a chore. They see it as a failure of their duty." He paused, turning the water off. "But I’m not at the palace, Jeniva. And I’m certainly not letting you do everything."

Jeniva watched him, silently admiring the perspective he held despite his royal upbringing. When she caught herself smiling a bit too warmly, she quickly shook her head, focusing back on her task.

"How is your rut?" she murmured, her voice laced with concern. "You mentioned before that taking suppressants during this time could actually make it worse."

Dominick shook the excess water from his hands and reached for a towel. "Well, nothing can be done about it now. I’ve been taking them since yesterday evening," he stated plainly. He didn’t seem distressed.

"I’m not worried about it worsening," he added, turning his full attention toward her. A smile spread across his face. "I can always just hold your hand if something happens."

Jeniva felt her heart flutter. The casual way he suggested using her presence to soothe his Alpha instincts made her pulse jump, especially knowing that a rut was usually a time of intense isolation for men like him.