Chapter 119 Arrange a Match
Aelira’s POV
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Although my instinct is to turn down Daelor’s dinner offer, Aunt Betty unexpectedly slips past me with remarkable speed.
“Oh, how awkward! Are you the Alpha Daelor Aelira has spoken about?” she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with a hunter’s gleam. “The esteemed Alpha King?”
The instant Aunt Betty lays eyes on Daelor, her attitude shifts entirely. She launches into a sudden questioning spree, completely ignoring my growing discomfort.
“We’ve heard so much about you from Aelira!” she continues enthusiastically. “She claims you’re so generous, formidable, and-”
“Aunt Betty,” I cut in, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “That’s not exactly what I said.”
Daelor just laughs softly, amusement flickering in his gaze as he looks knowingly at me. His calm manner seems only to encourage my aunt’s excitement.
“Oh, but that’s what she told us! She lights up every time your name comes up,” Aunt Betty persists, ignoring my increasing distress.
A timely elevator chime provides a brief reprieve. Yet Aunt Betty, determined and quick, ushers Daelor right into the small elevator.
“So, Alpha Daelor,” she picks up her questioning without pause, “are you mated already? Surely powerful Alphas like yourself have admirers everywhere.”
Daelor answers with careful neutrality. “Not at the moment,” he replies.
Those few words spark a new intensity in my aunt’s gaze. Watching her growing resolve only heightens my anxiety.
As soon as we enter my apartment at Myrthale Residences, Aunt Betty wastes no time pulling me into the kitchen.
“Aelira! Why didn’t you mention how ideal he is?” she whispers urgently, her face shining with barely contained delight.
“Aunt, it’s not what you’re imagining-“I try to explain..
“Where does he stay? Does he own a home? What’s his family like?” Her barrage of questions leaves me feeling more and more cornered.
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< Chapter 119 Arrange a Match
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Recognizing the brewing trouble, I try to shield Daelor by keeping my responses vague and ambiguous.
But her attention quickly swings elsewhere.
“Maria!” she calls to my cousin, who’s busy sulking in a corner. “Come over here, sweetie.”
Reluctantly, Maria looks up from her phone. “What is it now, Mom?”
“I need a word with you,” Aunt Betty insists, drawing her daughter aside.
I observe as she whispers something hurriedly to Maria. Whatever she says causes a sudden change in my cousin’s attitude.
Maria’s bored look dissolves into a surprisingly bashful smile. She glances down the hall, watching
Daelor as he politely examines the family pictures.
“Seriously?” Maria murmurs, her eyes lighting up.
With all the spare rooms cluttered with old boxes and unused furniture, accommodations become an issue. Maria surveys the available spaces, her dissatisfaction clear.
“This apartment is tiny,” she complains loudly. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”
“The guest room is quite nice,” I suggest.
But Maria makes a face. “It smells old. And that bed looks like it’s from another century.”
Her attention then lands on my own bedroom, her expression turning speculative.
“I like that room,” she quietly tells her mother, pointing at my private quarters.
A wave of unease sweeps over me. Aunt Betty acts as if nothing about the request is at all
inappropriate.
“Aelira, darling,” she begins, her words coated in calculated sweetness, “could you perhaps switch to the guest room this evening? Maria finds it almost impossible to sleep anywhere unfamiliar.”
Her request blatantly ignores my right to comfort in my own home. I sense my inner wolf grów tense
beneath my skin.
Despite my irritation, I keep a calm facade. My attention locks onto Maria.
“Is it truly my room that you want?” I ask, my tone sharp.
The directness of my question throws Maria off balance. The confidence she usually wears quickly
dissolves into visible unease.
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She flicks her gaze to her mother, silently pleading for assistance.
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“If it’s causing too much inconvenience-” Aunt Betty starts to backtrack, attempting to sound more
courteous.
“That will do,” Uncle Rulian interjects, his voice firm and commanding.
He has been quietly watching from the threshold, and his composed intervention quickly settles the brewing discord.
“Maria can have the guest room,” he asserts, leaving no room for argument. “There’s no reason to
complicate things.”
Maria’s expression falls, but she remains silent under her father’s authority.
Relief washes over me, yet I can’t help but regret not insisting that my aunt’s family book a hotel. The looming prospect of dinner with Daelor only adds to my unease.
Once the spare rooms are finally cleaned and everyone is in place, fatigue and sweat cling to me. Just
as I begin to relax, a knock sounds at the entrance.
Expecting Daelor, I head for the door. However, Aunt Betty intercepts me, urgently ushering Maria
ahead.
“Maria, answer the door!” she orders, her intention unmistakable.
Now surprisingly obedient, Maria opens the door, revealing Daelor. His commanding Alpha aura fills
the entryway at once.
Without acknowledging Maria, his eyes find mine, radiating familiar warmth.
“Are you ready?” he asks, his tone soft.
Before I can answer, Aunt Betty steps in with her well–rehearsed brightness.
“Absolutely, we’re all set! Thank you so much for inviting us, Alpha Daelor.”
She shepherds all five of us toward the elevator, guiding us into the underground parking area.
As we reach Daelor’s upscale SUV, marked with the Nightshade Pack insignia, he instinctively moves
to open the front passenger side for me.
Aunt Betty, however, quickly intervenes.
“Oh, Maria should sit up front,” she insists, firmly guiding Maria forward. “She gets terribly carsick in
the back.”
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<Chapter 119 Arrange a Match
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Daelor arches an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he glances my way.
Embarrassed by my aunt’s obvious scheming, I pretend not to notice. I accept my fate, squeezing into
the back seat between my aunt and uncle.
Maria takes the front seat with barely concealed glee, throwing me a smug glance.
Arriving at Silver Pine Bistro, my relatives are immediately struck by the restaurant’s refined
atmosphere.
Recognizing Daelor’s Alpha status and the Nightshade Pack emblem, the lobby manager quickly
approaches, bowing deeply in respect.
“Alpha Briarhallow, welcome back!” he greets, his tone reverent. “We have just received fresh venison from the Northern Territory, and your usual private room is ready.”
Daelor acknowledges him with easy confidence, his authority clear even in casual conversation.
“The regular order will do,” he responds smoothly.
Aunt Betty, Uncle Rulian, and Maria follow behind, their eyes wide with wonder. The lavish atmosphere
and the way the staff treat Daelor with such deference appear to leave them astonished.
Once inside the exclusive dining area, Daelor steps forward to pull out a chair. His eyes briefly flicker
toward me, making his intention clear.
Before I can respond, Aunt Betty steps in with her usual, overbearing energy.
She all but pushes Maria into the seat Daelor has readied.
“This spot is just right for you, Maria!” she exclaims for all to hear.
A surge of embarrassment rushes over me. The purpose behind my aunt’s actions is impossible to ignore now–she’s blatantly orchestrating a meeting between Daelor and Maria.
Daelor catches sight of my discomfort and appears quietly entertained. Without missing a beat, he draws out another chair and settles in at my side instead.
My aunt notices this gesture immediately.
“That won’t do at all,” Aunt Betty says, clearly dissatisfied.
She wastes no time, quickly repositioning Maria into the seat right beside Daelor.
“Maria was too close to the entrance,” she insists with obvious insincerity. “She might catch a chill
from the breeze.”
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< Chapter 119 Arrange a Match
Maria’s cheeks turn a rosy shade as she obeys her mother’s instructions.
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Seizing the opportunity provided by the new seating, Aunt Betty launches into a stream of flattery, her
motives transparent.
“Alpha Daelor, we’ve heard marvelous things about your company, Nightshade Security,” she says
effusively. “Running operations in so many regions–it’s quite remarkable!”
Daelor responds with courtesy, but keeps his demeanor professionally reserved.
Aunt Betty quickly presses on.
“We’ve traveled to the Northern Territory specifically so Maria can seek out promising job opportunities,” she states with perfect timing.
Her gaze sparkles with the hope of matchmaking.
“Would
you consider taking her on as your personal assistant? She’s extremely efficient and diligent.”
Suppressing a sigh, I rub my temples in frustration, feeling as if my aunt’s obvious scheming is an assault on my pride.
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