Chapter 141 Your Child (1)
Aelira’s POV
After more than ten days apart, encountering Alarion again at the Golden Lake Hotel feels unreal. He looks noticeably slimmer than before, his features marked by the subtle traces left by severe hardship.
The events in the warehouse have clearly left their mark, even though his Alpha healing should have helped.
Alarion moves toward me briskly, and his amber eyes instinctively flick to the private suite behind me, filled with barely concealed curiosity.
“Are you here with friends?” he asks, his tone still carrying the unmistakable authority of an Alpha, despite looking frail. “It’s a company event,” I reply, keeping my response even. “We’ve just wrapped up our first big project.”
He gives a nod of acknowledgment. “I’m meeting with Thunder Pack business partners. For a similar purpose, actually.” A thick, awkward silence settles between us, as if an invisible wall has gone up. Neither of us seems able to break it. The mate bond that once made everything effortless has been severed, leaving a strange and uncomfortable distance where there used to be connection.
I shift my stance, acutely aware of the tension that now fills the space between us.
Finally, Alarion’s gaze drops to my feet, and he speaks with sincere concern.
“How’s your ankle? Did it heal?”
“It mended a while ago,” I answer, relieved to discuss something neutral. “My wolf’s regeneration handled it quickly.”
Despite our history, I feel compelled to ask after his well–being, too.
“And your back–how is it? That silver dagger injury looked serious.”
When I inquire about his wound, Alarion’s face brightens with a rare, radiant smile. His wolf seems pathetically eager for
my attention.
“All healed,” he assures me, his voice growing warmer. “Alpha healing is remarkable, even with silver injuries.”
Just as I’m about to excuse myself and rejoin my colleagues, Alaron suddenly steps forward, urgency in his movements.
“Aelira, hold on,” he says, his words filled with a desperate note I’ve never heard from him before.
“There’s something important I need to tell you.”
I hesitate, every instinct warning me to escape the conversation, but I stay.
Alarion’s usual Alpha pride crumbles as he nearly pleads with me, his once commanding presence replaced by raw vulnerability.
“I realize I hurt you deeply during our mating,” he starts, emotion thick in his words: “I’ve wronged you in ways I’ll never be able to truly fix or undo.”
His golden eyes blaze with a fierce light as he goes on.
“But I’m asking for the opportunity to win you over again. I want a real chance to court you the right way this time.”
Disbelief holds me frozen as I gaze at him. Could the ordeal in the warehouse have unsettled his mind?
“Alarion, what are you talking about?” I somehow manage to choke out.
He pushes ahead with his urgent plea, paying no attention to how stunned I am.
“Regarding your pregnancy,” he announces, his tone gaining conviction. “It doesn’t matter to me who the child’s real father
His boldness leaves me speechless.
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“My fertility issues mean I probably can’t father pups myself,” he continues quickly. “My wolf has grown weak over time.”
He moves nearer, and his scent floods my keen senses.
“We could begin anew. I’d accept the baby as my own successor to the Thunder Pack. No questions, no judgment.” Before I can voice the flat refusal rising in my throat, a cold, commanding voice slices through the tension.
“No!”
Daelor approaches, every step deliberate and predatory. His commanding Alpha energy instantly dominates the space
around us.
A chill seems to settle in the air as his storm–gray eyes gleam with menace.
Alarion’s features turn rigid as he confronts this interruption.
“This is a personal matter between Aelira and me,” Alarion snaps. “Why are you interfering?”
Daelor emits a frosty laugh that makes my skin crawl. His reply is as biting as winter wind.
“You’re aiming for my child, and you wonder why I care?”
A mix of confusión and fury twists Alarion’s face.
“The baby belongs to Aelira,” he insists stubbornly.
But Daelor pays no attention to his objections. Locking eyes with me, he grips my hand with the unyielding authority of an Alpha,
“Come with me,” he orders, steering me toward a nearby, more secluded room.
Alarion tries to stop him, reaching for my free arm, but Daelor seizes his wrist and twists effortlessly, his Alpha strength undeniable.
Alarion reels backward, wincing at the pain in his wrist.
Before Alarion can recover or react, Daelor tugs me through the door, which slams behind us with a resounding crash.
I survey the unfamiliar surroundings, uneasy, feeling my wolf stir restlessly inside.
This isn’t the right place,” I begin to explain. The room I booked for the company festivities is somewhere else.”
I barely finish when Daelor suddenly closes in, moving with a predator’s grace.
Startled by his nearness and the overpowering force of his Alpha scent, I instinctively retreat, my back bumping softly against the door.
Daelor swiftly places a hand behind my head, shielding me from the impact with protective care.
Now I’m boxed in, caught between the solid door and Daelor’s formidable presence–a textbook wall–slam. His Alpha dominance floods my senses.
Nerves prickle through me as heat radiates from his body. Inside, my pregnant wolf frets in distress.
My throat tightens; I swallow hard.
“Daelor?” I whisper his name, my voice shaking. “What’s the matter?”
Daelor inhales deeply, his chest expanding and contracting as he visibly struggles to contain his Alpha urges.
After an agonizingly drawn–out pause, he fixes his gaze on me, eyes oflame. The low lighting in the room only makes his stare more piercing.
A restless energy flickers in the depths of his silver–gray eyes. Having been intimate before, I know all too well what it means when an Alpha focuses on someone with such intensity.
His unwavering look makes it impossible for me to breathe. His Adam’s apple moves as he gulps, trying to steady himself.
The scent of cedar, unique to him, becomes more pronounced, saturated with raw Alpha emotion that stirs a reaction from
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my wolf, regardless of my confusion.
The tension in the air thickens until he finally breaks the silence.
“I intended to take things slowly with you,” he confesses, his voice rough and strained. “I wanted to earn your trust and
affection at your own pace.”
