Chosen By My Mate's Father-in-law
Chapter 10: Bullseye

Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Bullseye

I didn’t hesitate - my hand instinctively shot up and caught it in one clean motion.

The butler gasped. “Miss—!”

But I just smiled, twirling the blade lightly in my fingers. I looked up at Michelle, still sitting in that damn tree like a smug little queen.

“That’s a little rude,” I said calmly. “You could have really hurt someone.”

She blinked, surprised. I could tell she didn’t expect me to catch it. Her lips parted, but she quickly covered it up with a scoff.

“I don’t need to know your name,” she said, flipping her ponytail. “You won’t last till the end of the week anyway.”

I let out a soft laugh and tossed the knife up, catching it again with ease.

“Not a great way to make friends,” I said. “But I’ll give you this—it was a good throw. Fast release. Solid aim.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Name’s Jasmine,” I added. “Might want to remember it. I’m not that easy to scare off.”

She didn’t reply. Just leaned back against the tree trunk with her arms crossed, staring at me like she was trying to figure me out.

The butler looked like he might pass out. His eyes were wide as he turned to me.

“I—I’m terribly sorry, Miss Lowett,” he stammered, bowing slightly. “On behalf of the family... Miss Michelle’s behavior is completely unacceptable—”

I held up my hand, cutting him off. “It’s fine,” I said calmly. “Really. I’ve had worse things thrown at me.”

He blinked at me like he didn’t know if I was joking or insane.

I turned my eyes back up to the girl in the tree. Michelle hadn’t moved an inch. She didn’t look scared. She looked proud of herself.

That only made me more curious.

“Hey,” I called out, stepping a little closer to the tree. “Wanna make a bet?”

Her brows rose. “A bet?”

“Yeah.” I crossed my arms, trying not to smirk. “If I win, you come down, greet me properly—no attitude, no insults, no throwing things. Just a normal introduction.”

She let out a laugh. “And if I win?”

“I’ll leave,” I said simply. “You won’t have to deal with me ever again.”

Behind me, the butler let out a strangled sound. “Miss Jasmine, I don’t think that’s—”

“I’m not talking to you,” I said gently, keeping my eyes on Michelle.

Her expression shifted and her gaze sharpened as she focused on me. I could see the flicker of interest there, behind all the bravado. “You’re serious?”

“Completely,” I said. “Unless... you’re scared you’ll lose?

The taunt worked entirely as expected. Michelle Laken bristled like an angry cat at the insinuation that she was a coward.

“What’s your challenge?”

I smiled and stepped forward, pointing toward the wooden target nailed to the far wall of the garden—it looked like someone had used it for throwing practice before.

“I’ll hit that bullseye three times. With my back turned.”

The butler stiffened beside me. “You’ll what?”

Michelle leaned forward, clearly more interested now. “You’re serious?”

I turned around and gave them a grin over my shoulder. “Dead serious.”

The butler hesitated for a second, then quietly pulled three small throwing knives from a leather pouch by the tree and handed them to me like he was holding a tray of explosives. I now had four knives with me.

I gripped the handles and let the weight settle in my hands. My wolf stirred, alert and focused.

“Alright,” I said, spinning one knife once before gripping it properly. “Let’s do this.”

I turned my back to the target, closed my eyes briefly to picture the distance, then snapped my arm up and released.

Thunk!

The blade hit the bullseye. Clean.

Michelle gave a dry laugh. “Okay, lucky shot.”

I shrugged and readied the next. Another spin. Another flick of the wrist.

Thunk!

Dead center again. The butler made a small noise of surprise. Michelle’s smirk faded slightly. “That was a fluke,” she muttered.

I heard her shift slightly on the branch, the faint rustle of leaves. My senses sharpened.

Then—just as I moved to throw again—I caught the quick whip of something flying through the air.

An acorn. Cute.

I grinned and flicked both remaining knives in one motion.

Thunk! Clink!

The acorn hit one blade mid-air, sending it off to the side—but the other sank right into the center of the bullseye.

Dead on.

Michelle stared, her mouth slightly open. “You threw two?”

“Sure did.” I turned to her and held up the knife that had been knocked away. “Technically, this one was yours.” I tossed it up once, caught it, and walked over to hand it to her.

She hopped down from the tree, grumbling. “That wasn’t fair.”

“You threw the acorn,” I said, laughing. “You gave me the chance. So, thank you.”

Her ears turned red as she snatched the knife from me. “Whatever. That wasn’t a warrior move. Where’d you learn that?”

“A carnival,” I said with a wink. “Part-time job, throwing for prizes.”

The butler chuckled. “Impressive. Very impressive.”

Michelle crossed her arms. “Fine. Teach me.”

And just like that, I knew I’d passed the first test.

After the knife-throwing challenge, Michelle wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

“Gymnastics,” she said, hands on her hips. “Let’s see if you can actually move or if that was just a show.”

I raised a brow. “You want to race me across the yard? Climb trees? Cartwheels?”

She didn’t even blink. “All of it.”

I laughed, stretching my arms. “Alright, let’s go.”

We started with a simple sprint across the garden, then added some flips and vaults over the benches. Michelle was fast, her movements wild and sharp like a pup who’d taught herself everything. But I’d spent years training my body to do better than my peers.

Still, I didn’t show off. Much.

I let her lead the first round, then slowly picked up my pace. By the time we hit our third lap, her breathing had gotten heavier. She tried to jump a low hedge, but her foot slipped.

She let out a surprised yelp—but I was already there.

I caught her by the waist just before she hit the ground.

For a second, we were both still.

Her face was flushed, not just from the near fall. She looked away quickly and pulled out of my grasp. “I had it.”

“Of course,” I said with a grin. “I just felt like showing off my reflexes.”

She didn’t respond at first. Just dusted off her pants and kicked at the grass.

“You’re better than the last one,” she muttered after a moment.

I tilted my head. “Last what?”

“Last tutor.” She sounded annoyed now. “She didn’t care about teaching me. She just wore tight clothes and waited around hoping my dad would show up. They all do.”

That explained a lot.

“My sister used to help sometimes,” she added, kicking at a pebble. “But since she got engaged, she barely talks to me. And Dad...” She paused. “He’s always working. I see Milky more than I see him.”

I looked toward the big fluffy dog, now napping in the shade, then back at her.

No wonder she acted out. This girl wasn’t mean.

She was just lonely. She was tired. Tired of being treated like an afterthought in her own home.

“I get it,” I said gently. “I didn’t grow up with much attention either. I’m from a normal family in Ashborne. My parents were always working to earn money, and it still wasn’t enough. When I grew old enough, I also worked a bunch of jobs for my allowance. Tutoring, carnival games... Even helped out at training camps.”

Michelle glanced at me, her expression softening just a little. “Carnival games?”

“Yup. Had to impress drunk wolves who thought they were better than me.”

A tiny smirk touched her lips. “That’s kind of cool.”

“I know,” I said, bumping her shoulder playfully. “You’re lucky I’m your tutor.”

She scoffed, but I caught the hint of a smile. The air between us had changed. It felt lighter.

Then the doorbell rang. Michelle’s ears perked up.

Her whole face lit up as she gasped, “Daddy’s home!”

Michelle ran towards the front doors like her life depended on it.

I hurriedly smoothed my hair and straightened my shirt, my heart thudding louder with each step I took after her.

I hoped her father would accept me. While I passed Michelle’s test, he was the one with the final say.

The butler had already opened the door. My breath caught in my throat.

Gareth Laken.

His towering figure filled the doorway. Sharp suit. Strong jaw. Gray eyes that somehow always seemed to see too much. He looked straight ahead until those silver eyes met mine.