Chapter 54 Have a Drink
Aelira’s POV
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I freeze where I stand, rooted in the center of Daelor’s room, my eyes fixed on the enormous bed that dominates the space. The door clicks shut behind the servant, leaving just the two of us in the elegant Briarhallow
suite.
“Are we really sleeping in the same den?” I repeat, my voice quiet as panic begins to rise.
Daelor’s silver eyes gleam with humor in the soft lighting as he regards me.
“What were you expecting? We’re supposed to be future mates.”
My pulse pounds erratically as I scan the room, desperate for an
alternative. There isn’t even a sofa–just that enormous, inviting bed with
its silk sheets and plush pillows.
“Can’t you sleep somewhere else?” I ask, clutching my arms around
myself. My wolf stirs beneath my skin, growing restless.
Shaking his head, Daelor moves to the door and cracks it open. He
gestures for me to come closer, a knowing look on his face.
“Take a look,” he says softly, his breath warm near my ear.
I peek through the opening and immediately spot an older female werewolf
stationed outside. Despite her age, she stands tall and alert, every sense clearly active.
“Who is she?” I whisper, quickly retreating from the door.
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“She’s my grandmother’s longtime housekeeper. Been with our family for ages.” He closes the door quietly and leans against it. “My grandmother is fully committed to this ‘intended mates‘ performance.”
My eyes widen, stunned. “She actually posted a guard? Is she serious?”
“Grandmother never does anything halfway,” he answers with a crooked smile. “She was devastated when my cousin chose a mate from outside our lands. She’s not letting me slip away that easily.”
I pace around the room in agitation, my restless wolf stirring uneasily inside my belly. It feels as if the walls are pressing in tighter with every passing second.
“Maybe I could climb out through the window?” I propose, seriously
considering the expansive glass panes before me.
Daelor lets out a laugh, though there’s a strange tension in the sound.
“We’re on the third floor, and pack guards are patrolling the perimeter. Not
exactly ideal for an expecting she–wolf.”
Without warning, he yanks at his collar, hurriedly undoing the buttons of his
shirt. His face is flushed, and beads of sweat are beginning to form on his
brow.
“Are you alright?” I ask, my concern for him momentarily outweighing my
own distress as I notice his growing discomfort.
He drags a hand through his thick, dark hair, leaving it completely tousled. His breathing grows heavier, more labored.
“The soup with silver pine,” he rasps, his voice deeper than normal. “There
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<Chapter 54 Have a Drink
was more in it than just silver pine.”
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My brows knit together as I take a cautious step toward him. “What do you mean by that?”
He unfastens another button, exposing more of his broad, muscular chest. The unexpected sight sends a rush of warmth through me, catching me off guard.
“It had moonberry wine in it,” he explains, sounding both frustrated and faintly amused. “One of Grandmother’s so–called secret ingredients.”
My mouth drops open in disbelief. “Moonberry wine? But that’s—”
“A strong aphrodisiac for werewolves,” he finishes for me, dragging a hand down his face. “Particularly for Alphas.”
Instinctively, I step back, my wolf on high alert. The old stories about
Alphas affected by moonberry wine flood my thoughts–tales of them.
losing control, their wolves overtaken by raw, primal urges.
A vivid memory of Alarion after he consumed wolf–whiskey flashes through
my mind–how dominating and aggressive he had become. And Daelor,
being a far stronger Alpha, is even more dangerous.
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7
He immediately notices my retreat, his silver–gray gaze darkening, nostrils
flaring slightly. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to lose control,”
he says tightly, his jaw locking with determination.
Before I can say anything, he strides into the bathroom, shutting the door
with purpose. Moments later, the sound of water hitting tile echoes out.
A cold shower. The standard method for calming a werewolf under the
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influence of such stimulants. I feel a wave of relief wash over me.
I exhale shakily, realizing I’d been holding my breath. My wolf relaxes a bit,
sensing the danger has passed for now. The water will help. It always
does.
Fishing my phone out of my bag, I check for any missed messages. Several texts from Oriana light up the screen:
[Did you get there okay?]
[What’s the legendary Briarhallow place like?]
[I bet you’re den–sharing with him, huh? ]
[Spill everything tomorrow!]
I can’t help but smile–she’s not wrong. I quickly snap a selfie, framing only
my face against the plain wall so the room stays hidden.
“I have my own room,” I write back, the lie stinging as I hit send.
Just then, a deep, unmistakable growl erupts from behind the bathroom
door. The raw, guttural sound sends a jolt through me, tightening my stomach in response.
Loud splashes and ragged breathing follow, painting a vivid mental image that spreads heat across my cheeks. I slap my palms over my ears,
desperate to block out the noise.
But it’s no use–my wolf’s heightened senses catch every gasp, every groan, every splash of water against his skin.
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At long last, the bathroom door creaks open. Daelor steps out, a towel
hanging loosely around his waist, rivulets of water sliding down his
sculpted chest and broad shoulders.
His scent immediately permeates the space–an intoxicating mix of his
innate Alpha musk, moon sage body wash, and something wilder, more
primal, that causes my wolf to perk up in curiosity.
His piercing silver–gray gaze meets mine, catching me mid–motion with my
hands still clamped over my ears. A knowing smirk curves at the corners
of his mouth.
“Meditating, are we?” he teases, his voice still thick and slow, laced with
the remnants of moonberry wine.
Embarrassed, I drop my hands quickly, my face flushing. “I was running
through herbal formulas in my mind,” I reply, the excuse sounding flimsy
even to me.
“Oh really?” he replies, adjusting the towel in a way that threatens to reveal
more. “Let’s hear one, then.”
I lock my gaze on his face, willing myself not to react to the sight of his chiseled body or the network of old scars etched across his skin–each
one a silent testament to past battles, which my wolf finds oddly
captivating.
“For a standard healing balm,” I begin, my tone clipped and clinical, “you
combine three portions moonflower essence, one portion silver pine resin,
and five portions distilled wolf’s bane. The mixture needs to be prepared
beneath a waxing moon and-”
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His deep laugh interrupts, reverberating from his chest. “That’ll do, little
healer. Go to bed before you start reciting the entire forest.”
Turning to a dresser, he grabs a pair of soft sleep pants. With his back to
me, he lets the towel fall and quickly pulls it on.
I let out a shocked gasp and whip my head away just in time, though my
eyes catch a glimpse of his sculpted back–and more. My face ignites with
heat.
My gaze flicks toward the bed again, nervousness swelling in my chest. I
have no other place to sleep in this unfamiliar land, and he’s the only one I
know here.
Quietly, I slip beneath the covers, choosing the outermost edge and making
myself as small as possible. My wolf instinctively shrinks back, careful not
to challenge the dominant presence beside us.
The mattress dips heavily as Daelor settles in on the other side. While he keeps a courteous distance, his body radiates warmth; I can feel it even
across the space.
“Sleep well, Aelira,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough in the dim light.
I mumble a barely audible reply, my body tense and rigid, teetering on the edge of the bed like one wrong move might send me tumbling off.
“Do you think I’d take advantage of you?” he suddenly asks, his bluntness
sending a jolt through me.
When I don’t respond right away, he adds, “I’m not Alarion. Even with moonberry wine in me, I don’t lose control like that.”
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The mention of my former mate hits hard, but instead of stirring fear, it
brings an odd sense of reassurance. Despite the potent aphrodisiac,
Daelor had chosen restraint–cooling down with a shower instead of
crossing any lines.
“I see,” I whisper, more sincerely than I expect.
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The lights go out, draping the room in darkness. I lie motionless in my
corner, holding firm to the space between us. And yet, my wolf remains
calm, unusually so, in the presence of an Alpha who could easily command
submission.
