Chapter 100 The Mysterious Man
Aelira’s POV
Gel 18 Mend
I look at her in disbelief, my teacup paused midway to my mouth. The private dining area at Lake Restaurant feels suddenly stifling.
“Roderic?” I whisper, astonished. “But why would he=”
“Because I uncovered his affair with Cyrinne,” Esther interrupts, her amber eyes flashing with years of bottled–up fury. “And that wasn’t even the extent of his betrayals.”
S
Dorothy, the elderly housekeeper of the pack, gently rests her hand on Esther’s shoulder. Their shared glance conveys years of unspoken solidarity.
“Roderic Riven was never destined to be the Alpha of Thunder Pack,” Esther resumes, her hands quivering slightly. “That title rightfully belonged to Alarion, by bloodline. Roderic twisted pack politics,
forged misleading alliances, all to wrongfully claim the position.”
Reaching across the table, I softly grasp her shaking hand. Despite everything that has transpired
between Alarion and me, my concern for his mother remains strong.
“Would you like some silver–pine tea? It may help soothe your wolf,” I suggest, already signaling to a
server.
Esther nods in gratitude, her exhaustion evident in her wolf’s scent. “You have always been
considerate, Aelira. That’s why I…” She hesitates, regaining her composure. “That’s why I have always
regarded you as a daughter.‘
The server arrives with the tea, and I prepare it according to Esther’s preference–with just a touch of
moonberry honey.
“I never had a daughter among the pack,” she continues after taking a sip. “I needed someone I could
confide in, someone I could trust.”
“Why haven’t you left him?” I gently inquire. “After everything he has done, a severance of the mate
bond would surely-
Esther’s bitter laughter interme. “It isn’t that straightforward for werewolves like us. Thunder
Pack has territorial agreements and business ties with various other packs. Everything is intertwined,
reliant on Roderic and me maintaining our bond.”
She gazes into her teacup, her reflection shifting in the silver–infused liquid.
“If those connections were abruptly severed, the repercussions would be catastrophic for many pack
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members,” she explains, her voice heavy with resignation. “Sometimes, we must sacrifice our own joy for the collective well–being.”
I nod, fully aware of her dilemma. Hadn’t I faced years of emotional neglect from Alarion for comparable reasons?
Without warning, Esther reaches across the table and grips both my hands tightly in hers, her amber eyes mirroring her son’s–imploring.
“Aelira,” she says, her voice trembling, “I need to request something vital. Please, do not finalize your mate bond severance with Alarion.”
I recoil slightly, bewildered by her plea. “What?”
“I am aware of Cyrinne’s pregnancy,” Esther rushes to clarify. “I can ensure that she never has that child. I will make certain she won’t interfere between you and Alarion again.”
Her desperation is palpable, her wolf’s scent sharp with distress.
“That child is the only reason you wish to leave my son, isn’t it?” she questions, her voice cracking. “If Cyrinne were removed, you would remain?”
A chill runs through me. This is the reason Esther reaches out–not from true affection, but to
manipulate me into remaining with Alarion.
“Esther,” I reply cautiously, instinctively placing my hand on my belly where my unborn pup resides. “My choice to leave Alarion has nothing to do with Cyrinne’s pregnancy.”
“But he loves you!” she argues, tears welling in her amber eyes. “You don’t understand how he is when
you’re not around. He comes home intoxicated from pack gatherings, his wolf howling your name throughout the night.”
A mirthless laugh escapes me. “If that were the case, he wouldn’t have shamed me publicly by pursuing Cyrinne. He wouldn’t have ignored me for years.”
“He has erred,” Esther implores. “All wolves make mistakes. But the mate bond-”
“I have made my choice,” I interrupt firmly, waves of disappointment flooding over me. My wolf whimpers softly within me, grieving the loss of what I had believed was true maternal care from
Esther.
“Was any of it sincere?” I inquire softly, unable to conceal the pain in my voice. “Your kindness toward me all these years? Or was it merely another means to control me, to keep me tied to your son?”
Esther’s expression falls. “Of course it was sincere! Aelira, please-”
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I rise suddenly, needing to escape this discussion. “Thank you for being open about Roderic’s betrayal. I appreciate your trust in sharing that with me.”
“Aelira, don’t go like this,” Esther begs, reaching for hand.
my
I step back, ensuring the space between us remains. “Goodbye, Esther. I wish you peace, whatever your decision regarding Roderic may be.”
As I exit Lake Restaurant, my heart weighs heavily than before. Another bond tainted by deceit and
hidden motives.
Tomorrow I will undergo the ceremony to sever my mate bond with Alarion. One last connection to sever, and then I will truly be free.
But free for what? To end my pregnancy? To start anew alone? The future looms before me, uncertain and daunting.
By the time I arrive back at my apartment in Myrthale Residences, night has settled in. My pregnant wolf stirs restlessly beneath my skin as I pace the living room, unable to quiet my racing mind.
What if something goes awry during the mate bond severance tomorrow? What if Alarion tries to prevent it? What if Cyrinne creates another scene?
And then there’s my upcoming appointment at Lunar Herb Medical Center the following day. My hand drifts to my belly, the slight bulge a constant reminder of the painful choice that lies ahead.
Eventually, I collapse onto my bed, exhaustion overwhelming me despite the turmoil in my mind. Sleep takes me reluctantly, pulling me into its depths.
Then I find myself dreaming, vividly reliving the events of that night at the territorial gathering.
I feel the disorientation from the drugged wolf–whiskey and moonberry extract coursing through my veins. The room spins as I sit on the edge of the silver–infused bed in the guest den of the Quillon
estate.
A male wolf enters, his potent Alpha scent permeating the room. In my altered state, I try to stand, to
escape, but my limbs feel heavy and unresponsive.
“Stay still,” the male voice commands gently. “You’ve been drugged.”
My wolf responds with hostility to his presence, the influence of the moonberry amplifying her
territorial instincts. I growl, attempting to push him away, but he effortlessly secures my wrists.
“Aelira, stop. I’m here to assist you.”
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There’s an unsettling familiarity about his scent and the way he utters my name. The room is scarcely illuminated, shadows hiding his features.
“Who are you?” I manage to inquire, my words slightly slurred.
He doesn’t respond right away, instead helping me recline properly on the bed. My wolf’s resistance diminishes as weariness from battling the drugs takes hold.
“Someone intentionally gave you those drinks,” he states, his voice calm and measured. “I witnessed it happen. I followed to ensure your safety.”
In the dream, I sense a shift in weight beside me on the bed. His hand brushes against my hair, removing a loose strand from my face, the action unexpectedly tender.
“You shouldn’t be by yourself in this condition,” he adds. “Others have noticed. Wolves who could
exploit the situation.”
“Alarion,” I murmur, calling out for my mate despite the haze of drugs.
The Alpha beside me becomes tense. “He left with his father hours ago.”
I direct my gaze toward the window, moonlight filtering through the partially parted curtains. As the Alpha leans in closer, the silvery light finally reveals his face.
Daelor Briarhallow.
His silver–gray eyes shine in the dark, intense and solely fixed on me.
“Why are you here?” I whisper, confusion and something more–something perilous–bubbling within.
- me.
“I couldn’t allow them to approach you,” Daelor whispers, his breath warm next to my ear. “Not while you’re defenseless like this.”
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What unfolds next blurs into fragments–his hands on my skin, feeling like silver fire. My wolf reacts to him, despite the mate bond that should ensure her loyalty to Alarion. The taste of his lips is demanding and possessive.
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“You are mine, little wolf,” Daelor’s deep, assured voice reverberates in my mind. “Whether you choose
to accept it or not.”
1
I jolt awake, my heart racing in my chest. Sweat clings to my nightgown as I sit upright, gasping for air.
The dream had seemed so real–Daelor’s scent, his touch, his voice claiming me. It wasn’t merely a dream; it felt like a memory breaking through the haze of that night.
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