Chapter 25 Two Alphas, One Luna
Aelira’s POV
O G B Minu
My jaw hangs open as Daelor’s words settle in the charged air. Had he really just claimed to be the “other Alpha” in my life? The shock reverberates through me, rattling my nerves.
Alarion’s face twists with rage, amber eyes narrowing. The hallway suddenly feels suffocating, the scent of two Alphas- one storm, one shadow–thick enough to choke me. My wolf paces restlessly beneath my skin, unsettled by the dueling pheromones and the way the men seem to fill all the air between the walls.
“You?” Alarion spits, his muscles bunching beneath his shirt. “You’re after my mate?”
Beside me, Daelor is unflappable, the picture of calm. His arm remains draped across my shoulders, anchoring me. The contrast is almost absurd–Alanion a live wire, Daelor a tranquil sea.
Daelor’s voice is gentle as he turns to me, dismissing Alarion with a flicker of indifference. “Aelira, why don’t you go inside? I think your soon–to–be ex–mate and I need a word.”
freeze. Leave them alone? Is he serious? My gaze flicks between them, heart fluttering like a caged bird. Daelor catches my hesitation, his hand warm on my head, then down to my shoulder for a reassuring squeeze. He even winks, as if this is
all a game.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs, low enough for only me to hear. “He can’t hurt me. Be good ”
A shiver runs through me, my wolf unexpectedly soothed by his confidence. I fumble with my keys, all the while acutely aware of Alarion’s eyes burning into me. This must be Daelor’s plan: make Alarion believe there’s something real between us–force his hand on the severance. But is Alarion buying it? One look at his face, carved with hurt and betrayal, tells me he is.
“When?” Alarion growls, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. “When did this happen, Aelira?”
Panic stirs in my chest. How do I answer? But Daelor saves me, his tone almost lazy: “Does it matter? Maybe around the
time
you left her alone at your mating ceremony to chase your childhood sweetheart?”
Alarion’s face darkens, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “You know nothing, Briarhallow.”
“I know enough,” Daelor retorts, stepping closer, his presence–radiating authority. “I know you abandoned your mate on the most important day of your lives.”
I should go inside, as Daelor told me. But I can’t move, can’t look away from the collision of history and pride unfolding my doorstep.
“And I know,” Daelor’s voice drops, iron beneath the velvet, “that your actions helped end her mother’s life.”
That strikes home. Alarion’s control shatters. With a snarl, he lunges, his fist connecting with Daelor’s jaw–a brutal, wet sound that makes me gasp.
But what shocks me more is the way Daelor doesn’t dodge. He lets the punch land, blood blossoming at the corner of his mouth. And then he smiles–a cold, dangerous smile that chills me deeper than any threat.
“Feel better?” he asks, silver eyes gleaming with something like satisfaction.
Alarion roars, swinging again, but Daelor is faster this time. He sidesteps, then lands a precise blow to Alarion’s stomach, doubling him over.
You broke the cardinal rule, Riven,” Daelor says, voice calm as a surgeon’s. “Never let emotion control your strikes.”
The next exchange happens in a blur–fists, snarls, the dull thud of bodies meeting wall and floor. In seconds, Alarion is on his knees, blood running from his nose.
Daclor grabs my arm and pulls me firmly into the apartment, shutting the door with a finality that echoes down the hall.
“I’ll have the severance papers delivered to your office tomorrow,” he calls through the door, voice icy. “Sign them, and we
can all move on.”
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Chapter 25 Two Alphas, One Luna
Alarion staggers to his feet, blood spattering his shirt, eyes wild. “Our friendship is over, Briarhallow,” he spits. “You’re dead
to me.”
Daelor doesn’t flinch. “Small price,” he answers, then closes the door–locking Alarion, and the past, outside.
Inside, the tension dissolves like a sigh. Daelor’s shoulders ease, the Alpha mask fading. He turns to me with a familiar smile–the one that makes my wolf flick her tail in confusion.
*So,” he says, as if we haven’t just survived a brawl, “about that tea you promised me?”
I stare, still trembling, clutching the edge of my kitchen counter for support. “You… you just… with Alarion…”
Daclor chuckles, wiping the blood from his lip. “Yes, I believe I did. Tea?”
“R–right,” I mumble, moving on autopilot. “I only have chamomile.”
“Perfect,” he says, settling onto my couch, utterly at ease.
My hands shake as I prepare the tea, the adrenaline slow to fade, Daelor has not only claimed me in front of Alarion but physically fought him for the illusion. The charade is spiraling far beyond anything I imagined.
“Here,” I say, handing him a steaming mug
“Thank you.” He takes a sip, nodding in approval. “You make excellent tea.”
I curl up across from him, nursing my own cup like a shield. “What just happened out there?”
Daelor sets his mug down, growing serious. “I sped things up. Now Alarion truly believes there’s something between us. He’ll sign the severance–he has to, now.”
“But the fight-”
“Was inevitable, Daelor interrupts softly. “He was spoiling for it. I just gave him the excuse.”
I swallow, the cost of all this heavier than I’d expected. “What about your friendship with him?”
Daelor’s laugh is short and humorless. “Friendship? We were allies, sometimes. But any man who lets himself be led by Cyrinne Wynthor, while neglecting someone like you, isn’t worth more than that.”
Warmth blooms in my cheeks at his words. “Still… thank you. Alarion might finally back off now.”
“That’s the idea,” Daelor agrees. “I’ve already spoken to Beryn. We’ll push the severance while Alarion’s reeling.”
He studies me, head tilted. “I hope you don’t mind keeping up this charade until the bond is broken.”
“Not at all,” I assure him, surprising myself with how much I mean it. “It’s worth it.”
I hesitate, thinking of Cyrinne, the hospital, the secrets swirling around us.
“There’s something else,” I say, voice hesitant. “Today at Aethervale, Oriana and I saw Cyrinne at OB/GYN. She was picking up paperwork.”
Daelor’s eyebrows lift, his attention sharpening. “Obstetrics and gynecology? That’s… interesting.”
I press my palm to my belly, protective. “Oriana thinks she might be pregnant. It would explain why she’s so desperate to keep Alarion’s attention.”
Daelor’s eyes flash with calculation. “That would complicate things. Perhaps we should find out exactly what she’s hiding.”
