Chapter 19 Rumors and Rebounds
Aelira’s POV
My heart sinks as I meet Daelor’s gaze across the table. Regret shadows his silver–gray eyes as he speaks of his friendship with Alarion–of course they’re close. The two most dominant Alphas in the Northern Territory would naturally be bound, their lives braided together by power and history.
“I get it,” I murmur, disappointment heavy in my voice, unable to mask the ache. “I shouldn’t have put you in this position.”
I start to stand, but Daelor’s hand closes gently around mine, heat radiating from his palm, halting me in place.
“Why so serious?” His teasing tone is so unexpected, it makes me look up, startled. A playful smile flickers at his mouth, softening his usually reserved features. “I never said I wouldn’t help you.”
“But you just-“I begin, confusion flickering.
“I said it puts me in a difficult position,” he corrects, his thumb tracing slow, calming circles across the back of my hand, sending a shiver spiraling up my arm. “Not an impossible one.”
A fragile hope stirs inside me. “So you’ll help?”
“With one condition,” he says.
I hold my breath, desperation tightening around my lungs. With Alarion stonewalling the severance, I’m ready to agree to nearly anything.
“I need you to come with me to Nightshade Pack territory,” Daelor says, his expression growing somber. “My grandmother’s been asking to meet you.”
“Your grandmother?” I blink, caught off guard. “Why would she want that?”
His smile returns, gentler now, almost fond. “She’s curious about you. She says there’s something important you and she need to discuss.
“That’s all?” The simplicity of the request stuns me.
“That’s it,” he confirms. “Elowen Briarhallow doesn’t request audiences lightly. If she’s calling for you, it matters.”
I don’t hesitate. “I’ll go
Relief floods me, so intense my vision blurs. With Daelor at my side, maybe I can finally break free. Maybe I can make my own choices–about my life, my child.
“When do we leave?” I ask, the eagemess in my voice betraying me.
Daelor lifts his glass, the crystal catching the soft light. “I’ll arrange everything for this weekend. Three days from now.”
I raise my water in a trembling hand, clinking it against his. “Thank you, Daelor. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this.
His eyes glint, warm and alive. “Let’s start with you enjoying that wolf–apple pie you ordered.”
The tension shatters. I laugh–a real, bone–deep laugh, the first since before my mother died. My wolf stirs, comforted, sensing we’re inching closer to freedom.
We finish our meal, then move through the restaurant, out of the hush of the private dining room and into the bright, murmuring main space. The hostess bows her head respectfully to Daelor as we pass. Diners turn, curiosity sharpening as they watch us thread through the crowd.
Briarhallow!”
The familiar voice freezes me mid–step. My wolf bristles, her protective instincts snapping awake around the fragile life
Inside me.
Alarion stands near the entrance, Cyrinne draped possessively on his arm. Her emerald eyes gleam with delighted cruelty as she presses herself against him, a smile of ownership curving her perfect lips.
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< Chapter 19 Rumors and Rebounds
I instinctively shrink behind Daelor’s broad frame, pressing close. His scent–pine after a storm, laced with cinnamon- enfolds me, masking the subtle shifts of my own, pregnancy–altered scent.
“Riven,” Daelor greets him, voice cool and unreadable. He adjusts his stance, shielding me more completely.
Alarion approaches, amber eyes narrowed as he studies Daelor. “Just taking Cyrinne out for dinner. She’s had a rough day.”
Cyrinne’s laugh is brittle, shrill, scraping across my nerves. “Alex, maybe we can ask Daelor for his private room. You always said he keeps one reserved here.”
A growl simmers in my chest at her easy familiarity. Ex–mate, I remind myself savagely, digging my nails into my palms.
“That’s my space,” Daelor replies, voice light but iron–edged beneath. “Reserved for certain company.”
Cyrinne tries to peer around Daelor, her gaze sharp and searching. “Who are you hiding back there?”
My breath lodges painfully in my chest. I press my forehead against Daelor’s shoulder blades, wishing I could vanish. My w olf wants to bare her teeth, but the woman in me–the pregnant woman–wants nothing but distance.
“Briarhallow, you sly bastard,” Alarion drawls, his tone mocking but laced with suspicion. “Concealing a woman? That’s not your style.”
Daelor straightens, his Alpha aura unfurling in a subtle, silent threat. The effect is immediate; several diners glance away, di scomfort rippling through the air,
“Some situations require discretion,” he replies, voice even.
I summon my courage, ready to step forward, to face the inevitable. But Daelor shifts again, blocking any attempt for me to
emerge.
“Come on, Dom,” Alarion presses, curiosity sharpening “Who is it? Anyone I know?”
I can almost feel Alarion’s wolf straining to parse the scents, even with the restaurant’s scent–neutralizing spells.
“If you must know,” Daelor says, patience thinning, “she’s a mated she–wolf seeking counsel. She wants to sever her bond.”
My heart stutters at how close he edges to the truth. He’s not lying–but he’s not revealing me either. My pulse pounds so
hard I’m afraid it’s visible.
Alarion’s brow rises, surprise flickering. “You’re helping with a mate severance? That’s a new one for you.”
“Her mate’s been neglectful,” Daelor says, his words measured but sharp. ‘It warrants intervention.
Alarion’s jaw tightens, the accusation not lost on him. He forces a smile, brittle at the corners. “You’ve always had at weakness for damsels in distress,” he says, striving for levity though imitation sharpens his scent. “Surprised you’d meddle in another wolf’s mating. Not like you.”
Cyrinne tugs at Alarion’s arm, her pout theatrical, her beauty infuriating. “Alex, I’m starving. Let’s get our table.”
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, my wolf snarling at her blatant manipulation.
*Introduce me to your mystery woman once she’s free,” Alarion says to Daelor, his wolf’s possessiveness leaking through the casual words. “Maybe we’ll arrange something.”
Rage burns in my veins. The audacity–his mate on one arm, already angling for another.
“I doubt she’d be interested, Daelor returns, voice smooth but cold. “She has standards.”
Anger flashes in Alarion’s eyes, amber irises igniting, but he buries it beneath another shallow smile. “Your loss. Or hers.”
He turns–then pauses, fixing Daelor with a calculated look. “By the way, you seen Aelira lately? She’s… taking time for herself. I’m worried about her.”
His false concern is a knife. My wolf seethes, a low growl vibrating in my chest.
“I’m sure Luna Sunmere can handle her own affairs,” Daelor answers, voice neutral. “If you’ll excuse us…”
He steers me toward the door, his body a shield against Alarion’s gaze, guiding me through the curious diners.
Chapter 10 Rumors and Rebounds.
“Enjoy your evening,” he calls back, unmistakably dismissive.
Once outside, I gulp down the night air, my hands trembling violently.
