Chapter 40 Live in the Same Apartment?
Aelira’s POV
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Daelor’s threat lingers in the air, a palpable force between us. His reply to
Alarion carries such lethal certainty that even I feel a shiver run through
- me.
“That’s not yours to decide!”
Alarion stands frozen in the hallway, his amber eyes ablaze with rage.
Before he can speak, Daelor grabs my arm and yanks me back into the
apartment, then slams the door shut in Alarion’s face!
The loud crash is swiftly followed by Alarion’s furious knocks on the door,
his voice muffled yet unmistakably enraged.
“Open this door, Aelira! We’re not done yet!”
I gaze at the door with anxiety, my wolf pacing restlessly within me. Alarion’s fury is escalating to dangerous heights, and my instincts are urging me to protect my unborn child.
“We should leave today,” Daelor states decisively, his silver–gray eyes glued
to the trembling door. “It’s not safe here.”
“Where are we going?” I inquire, instinctively placing a hand on my still–flat
belly.
Daelor rakes a hand through his dark hair, seeming oblivious to my
protective gesture. “I have a den in Myrthale Residences, right across from
Verdant Moon Herbalists. It’s fully furnished and equipped. You can move
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<Chapter 40 Live in the Same Apartment?
there today.”
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I hesitate, unable to shake off the intensity of the confrontation between him and Alarion. While I suspect much of Daelor’s possessiveness is a tactic to irritate Alarion, there’s a flicker of sincerity in his eyes when he
admits his feelings for me.
“What’s the matter?” Daelor’s expression softens as he chuckles. “Did I just come off too much like the protective Alpha and frighten you?”
“No,” I reply, relieved by his lighthearted tone. The teasing spark in his eyes
makes it easier to breathe again. “Thanks for your help, Daelor.”
Alarion’s aggressive knocking persists for another five minutes, until I catch unfamiliar voices echoing from the hallway. Daelor has summoned the building’s security. Following a brief, tense confrontation, silence finally
envelops the corridor.
“He’ll return,” Daelor remarks darkly. “And next time, he’ll be even angrier.”
He is correct. I can’t remain here any longer, especially with Alarion’s
behavior becoming more unpredictable.
“I’ll contact some professional werewolf movers,” I state, reaching for my
phone. “They are equipped to handle territory changes properly.”
Daelor nods in approval. “Wise decision. I’ll send you the address and
access information.”
By the evening, the movers have successfully packed and moved my
sparse belongings to the new apartment. I feel a bit embarrassed about
how little I possess–just a handful of suitcases filled with clothes, a few
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< Chapter 40 Live in the Same Apartment?
books, and a box containing herbal supplies.
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Yet the Myrthale apartment is breathtaking. Floor–to–ceiling windows provide a stunning view of the city, the furnishings blend elegance and comfort, and the kitchen is a herbalist’s paradise with its ample counter space and natural light.
“This is overwhelming,” I whisper as Daelor gives me a brief tour.
“It typically sits empty most of the time,” he responds with a nonchalant shrug. “Better for someone to utilize it.”
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Once he departs, I find myself alone in the opulent space, feeling grateful yet slightly overwhelmed. My wolf appears to appreciate the new den, but I can’t shake the sensation that I grow increasingly indebted to Daelor daily.
I resolve to change my mobile number. Given Alarion’s mounting persistence, this seems like the safest choice. Although it means I will need to pursue the mate bond severance through formal legal means, which will be longer and more complex.
Just as I wrap up setting up my herbal workstation in the kitchen, the doorbell rings. It’s Oriana, who arrives with a bottle of wine and several takeout bags in her arms.
“Housewarming gift!” she exclaims enthusiastically, stepping into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. When she freezes, her eyes widen with astonishment at her surroundings. “Holy moonstone! This
place is amazing!”
I chuckle at her dramatic reaction. “It belongs to Daelor. He’s allowing me to stay here temporarily.”
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“Myrthale?” Oriana gasps, trailing her fingers over the sleek granite kitchen countertop. “That’s where all the high–status wolves reside!”
“It’s only until the mate bond severance is finalized,” I remind her, taking the
wine bottle before she accidentally drops it in her excitement.
Oriana collapses onto the luxurious sofa, testing its plushness with a
satisfied sigh. “If I had an Alpha like him looking out for me, I wouldn’t be
shelling out so much for my tiny place.”
I roll my eyes while uncorking the wine. “His assistance comes with strings
attached, remember? I still have to meet his grandmother.”
“Ah, yes, the enigmatic Elowen Briarhallow.” Oriana accepts the glass I
offer her. “Why is that so significant for him?”
I shrug, settling down next to her on the sofa. “I honestly don’t know. Perhaps he aims to show his family that he’s more than just a workaholic
Alpha?”
“Or maybe,” Oriana raises her eyebrows suggestively, “he’s introducing you
to his grandma because he has serious plans for you.”
“Don’t be absurd,” I scoff, even as my wolf stirs with interest at the idea.
“I’m still technically mated to Alarion, remember? Plus, I’m expecting his pup. And Daelor… well, he is Daelor Briarhallow.”
“What does that even mean?”
“He could easily have his pick of any unmated she–wolf in the Northern
Territory,” I point out. “Why would he choose someone like me, with all my
complications?”
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Oriana shrugs while sipping her wine. “The heart desires what it desires. Or, in this case, the wolf.”
I shake my head, reluctant to consider the thought. “Let’s get some dinner. I’m famished.”
“How about moon–seared steaks?” Oriana proposes, grinning. “We should properly celebrate your fancy new apartment.”
After we finish our meal, I escort Oriana to the door, still chuckling over her tale of a territorial dispute she had mediated between two stubborn pack elders.
As we reach the doorway, the apartment door directly across the hall swings open. A familiar scent envelops me before I even see who it is–rich
cedar and mountain air, unmistakably Daelor.
“You live here too?” I stammer, unable to conceal my surprise.
Daelor leans casually against his doorframe, silver–gray eyes glimmering
with amusement. “I mentioned it was my den.”
“I thought you meant you owned it, not that you lived right across the hall!”
“Is that a problem?” he asks, raising one eyebrow playfully.
Before I can respond, Oriana steps in effortlessly. “We were just wrapping up dinner. Moon–seared steaks from Crescent Grill. Would you like to join
us for dessert?”
Daelor shakes his head. “Thank you, but I have some pressing national security issues to take care of.” His eyes catch mine briefly. “Tomorrow?”
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I nod, slightly flustered by his nearness. “Tomorrow.”
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With a casual nod to both of us, he makes his way toward the elevator.
Once he’s out of earshot, Oriana seizes my arm, her eyes wide with
excitement.
“Did you hear that?” she whispers eagerly. “He lives right across from you!
This has to be fate!”
I attempt to silence her, but she persists, her voice dropping to a conspiring whisper. “First, he offers you protection, then organizes for you to live
opposite him… clearly, cohabitation is the next logical step!”
“Don’t be absurd,” I mutter, feeling heat rise to my cheeks in
embarrassment.
My wolf stirs uneasily at Oriana’s words, escalating my discomfort. Why would my wolf respond to the thought of living alongside Daelor?
“I’m just saying,” Oriana presses on as I nearly shove her into the elevator. “This isn’t just a coincidence, Aelira.”
I wave goodbye as the doors close on her smirking face, then I head back to my new apartment, my thoughts in turmoil.
The next morning, I take extra time to prepare for work, telling myself it has
nothing to do with the knowledge that I might encounter Daelor.
As expected, just as I lock my door, I hear his open across the hall.
“Morning,” he says, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down my
spine.
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He is dressed casually in a fitted black t–shirt that highlights his muscular build and dark jeans. Even in such simple attire, he radiates the unmistakable presence of an Alpha.
“Morning,” I reply, trying to sound casual. “Heading off to work?”
“Yes. Need a lift? I’m going that way.”
I nod, appreciative of the invitation. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”
Inside the elevator, I can’t help but notice how his dominant Alpha scent saturates the small space. Oddly enough, rather than feeling intimidated, I find it soothing.
Once we enter his car, I bring up the topic that has been troubling me.
“Concerning your grandmother, I still don’t grasp why you want me to meet
her.”
Daelor’s face softens as he maneuvers through the morning rush hour. “Do
you recall an elderly she–wolf you assisted at the Neutral Grounds three
years back?”
I frown, trying to remember. “Are you referring to the territory gathering
event?”
“Yes. She collapsed during that gathering, and you formulated a special herbal remedy that aided in her recovery.”
“That was Elowen Briarhallow?” I murmur, feeling my wolf stir in recognition of the memory.
