Chapter 115 Talk With Esther
Aelira’s POV
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I watch Daelor with an increasing sense of unease, my fingers subconsciously tightening together. A chilling dread settles in my stomach as I brace myself for his next words.
My wolf whimpers anxiously within me, picking up on my turmoil.
Daelor’s piercing gaze lands on my trembling hands, pausing for a moment before he slowly redirects his attention. The potent scent of his Alpha presence shifts subtly within the confines of the SUV.
“I can’t stand Alarion’s self–righteous behavior,” he finally states, his rich voice measured. “I wasn’t really helping you.”
Inexplicably, a mixture of relief and disappointment stirs in my heart. The sense of relief is immediate, but the peculiar feeling of loss that follows leaves me bewildered.
Before I can untangle these conflicting feelings, Daelor speaks again. His hands maintain a steady
grip on the steering wheel of his luxury SUV, knuckles relaxed yet attentive.
“What do you envision for your future?” he asks softly.
I purse my lips, fully grasping what he truly means. With Alarion now aware of my pregnancy, he will
inevitably become a persistent source of trouble in my life.
This is exactly why I insisted on having the termination procedure in the first place–so I could sever all
ties with Alarion permanently.
Without a child, there would be no bond linking us. No reason for him to chase after me or place
demands on my life.
“Then I’ll get a prenatal paternity test,” I assert, lifting my chin with renewed determination.
My hand instinctively moves to cradle my belly where my unborn child is developing, a protective
gesture that feels second nature to me.
“As long as Alarion knows he is not the father, he surely won’t bother me anymore.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that straightforward,” Daelor replies, shaking his head slightly, his Alpha instincts
clearly detecting something I’m overlooking.
“Do you believe Alarion will simply back down knowing the baby isn’t his?”
I look at him, genuine confusion filling me, as my wolf stirs restlessly within my skin.
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“What do you mean?”
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Daelor’s distinctively jointed fingers begin to tap gently on the steering wheel in a rhythmic pattern. A faint smile rests on his lips, but his silver–gray eyes shine with a knowing glint.
“What, don’t you believe what I said earlier?”
“I just doubt Alarion would be that insistent,” I argue.
His outburst today was solely because of this pup. If he finds out the baby isn’t his, he surely won’t continue being so stubbornly possessive.
Daelor’s gaze glints with amusement, yet his features come off sharp and predatory. His dominant Alpha energy fills the entire car.
“Care to wager?” he asks with an air of relaxed confidence.
“Wager?” I respond, completely perplexed. “What exactly are we wagering on?”
“Let’s make a bet that Alarion, even if he knows the pup isn’t his, will still pursue you relentlessly.”
The idea sounds utterly implausible to me. His words awaken my competitive spirit, making my wolf
perk up with curiosity.
“What are the stakes?” I counter.
“Let’s wager one wish from the other person,” Daelor answers smoothly.
The idea of being able to make a wish to Daelor is, in fact, quite enticing. Given his connections and resources, such a chance could be incredibly beneficial.
“Alright,” I concede without a moment’s pause.
I extend my pinky toward Daelor with a childlike eagerness.
“It’s a deal.”
Daelor grins warmly and links his much larger pinky with mine. The physical contact sends. unexpected shivers up my arm.
“Whoever breaks the promise is a coward,” he states, his voice deep and captivating.
After making my way back to my apartment at Myrthale Residences, I find myself collapsing onto my bed, feeling utterly overwhelmed by the day’s disorder.
The shocking revelation of my brother Jornic being savagely beaten at the hospital by Draven Cook. Cyrinne’s opportunistic miscarriage which erased crucial evidence. Alarion’s unsettling awareness of
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< Chapter 115 Talk With Esther
my pregnancy, despite my careful efforts to conceal it.
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These revelations create an intense sense of both emotional and physical weariness. My wolf whines softly within me, clearly distressed by the unrelenting chaos.
However, my main worry remains fixated on my brother’s perilous situation. With both our parents gone, he is my last surviving blood relative in this world.
I don’t wish for him to have infinite wealth or pack recognition. My only desire is for him to remain safe
and unharmed.
Yet, his ongoing involvement with Cyrinne brings him unending problems and escalating threats.
Dominant figures like Draven Cook, Roderic Riven, and Alarion possess the power to easily crush him with their pack influence and greater Alpha strength. He is entirely outclassed and at risk.
In spite of these evident dangers, my brother continues to keep critical information from me. His unwavering loyalty to Cyrinne leads me to believe he won’t see her true manipulative side until it’s far too late or until he faces dire consequences.
Heavy with these dark thoughts, I gradually slip into an unsettled sleep. My pregnant wolf feels
drained from all the emotional upheaval and stress.
I am suddenly roused by the persistent sound of my doorbell. As I open my eyes to the pitch–black darkness, I realize several hours have passed and night has descended while I slept.
As I approach the door on shaky legs, I glance through the peephole. The sight that confronts me sends shockwaves through my body.
Esther Riven stands in the hallway, looking resolute and undeniably purposeful.
I feel genuinely baffled about how she has found my address. My frown deepens as I recall the dramatic incidents at the hospital earlier today.
It is evident that she is here specifically regarding my pregnancy.
The doorbell rings again, this time with mounting urgency. I decide to stay silent and pretend I’m not home, hoping she will eventually grow tired of waiting and leave.
Esther proves to be far more resolute than I had expected. She starts to knock firmly on the wooden
door.
“Aelira, I know you’re in there,” she calls out, her voice imbued with the undeniable authority of a former
Luna.
“Please open the door.”
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Her use of my name in such a familiar manner causes a wave of discomfort to wash over me. Now that Alarion and I have successfully dissolved our mate bond, I have no ties left to the Riven family at
all.
Her insistence on using my first name strikes me as presumptuous and inappropriate.
“Aelira, please open the door,” she urges again, her insistence growing stronger.
“Aelira, we need to have a conversation.”
Recognizing her determination to continue knocking until I relent, I take a deep breath. My wolf
whimpers anxiously, sensing the impending confrontation.
I realize that I cannot avoid this awkward situation indefinitely. The matter must be addressed directly
and resolved.
Given how much I loathe speaking with either Alarion or Roderic Riven, Esther actually seems like the
least intolerable choice among the Riven family.
With this resigned thought, I reluctantly unlock the door.
As I appear, a satisfied smile instantly brightens Esther’s elegantly aged face. Her amber eyes reflect
warmth but also calculation, clearly pleased with her maneuvering.
“I knew you would eventually decide to open the door,” she comments, her tone laced with quiet
triumph.
Her experienced gaze shifts downward to my slightly rounded belly. The knowing glimmer in her eyes
sends a chill down my spine.
I instinctively turn slightly, attempting to evade her intrusive stare. My hand instinctively moves
protectively over my unborn child.
“Just tell me what you want,” I state tersely.
Esther steps into my modest apartment and begins to survey the space with obvious curiosity. I can’t
quite figure out what she’s searching for, but her scrutiny feels invasive.
I turn and pour her a glass of water, placing it deliberately on the coffee table in front of her. Then I take a seat in the chair opposite her and ask directly, “Did you come here for something specific?”
Esther instinctively closes the distance between us, her presence as a former Luna filling the small room. Even in her older age, she still wields considerable authority.
“Aelira, please don’t take my intentions the wrong way,” she begins cautiously. “I didn’t come here to convince you to remarry Alarion. I simply want to have an honest discussion with you.”
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“What exactly do you want to talk about?” I inquire, my expression remaining completely neutral.
Esther exhales deeply, her amber eyes mirroring years of complex pack politics and family
manipulation.
“Are you still upset with me over what occurred previously?” she asks, her voice crafted to convey vulnerability.
She reaches for my hand as she continues speaking, her touch unwelcome yet persistent.
“I never wanted you to leave the Riven family back then, which is why I encouraged you to think carefully before severing your bond with Alarion. Perhaps my words made you uncomfortable, but I’ve always regarded you as if you were my own daughter.”
I quickly pull my hand away from her grasp, rejecting her emotional manipulation.
“If my mother were still alive, she’d wholly support my decision,” I assert with calm determination.
She wouldn’t have exclusively considered Alarion’s feelings while pressuring me not to end our mate
bond!
A mother–in–law is, after all, merely a mother–in–law. She can never truly fill the role of my mother.
Esther purses her lips, genuinely taken aback by my unexpected and unwavering stance. It’s clear she anticipated a more compliant and guilt–ridden response from me.
She quickly shifts away from appealing to emotions and instead adopts a tone of direct authority. Her voice transforms into the commanding one that once made her a powerful Luna.
“Aelira, I recognize that you’ve held onto resentment toward Alarion due to your mother’s passing. However, there is a distinct perpetrator and victim in this situation.”
Her amber eyes flash with a sincerity that feels calculated.
“At that time, Alarion was thoroughly misled by that cunning she–wolf, Cyrinne. The true killer of your
mother is Cyrinne Wynthor, not my son!”
Leaning in closer, her voice becomes even more persuasive and urgent.
“Trust me, I will personally ensure Cyrinne faces the consequences of her actions. I will seek justice
for both you and your mother.”
Her demeanor shifts to one of pleading desperation.
“Please, don’t hold onto anger toward Alarion any longer, alright? Regardless of what has transpired between you two, the child you carry is still part of our Riven lineage. We are, at our core, one pack.”
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