Chapter 57 That’s All That Matters
Aelira’s POV
“I’m content with my choice.”
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Daelor’s voice slices through the tension in the room, cold and sharp. His
silver–gray eyes narrow as he fixes Mary with a stare so icy, I shiver despite
not being the object of his fury.
Mary stiffens, her jaw slack with disbelief. It’s likely the first time she’s ever
witnessed her cousin look at her with such unfiltered disdain. The scorn in
his tone leaves no room for misinterpretation.
Tears rush to her eyes almost instantly. Still in her late teens, she’s clearly
unaccustomed to being addressed with such harsh coldness–especially
from Daelor.
Jennifer, standing beside her daughter, fidgets uncomfortably. She’s caught between shielding Mary and honoring Daelor’s authority. She’s already stepped back considerably by offering an apology for Mary’s behavior–a difficult concession for someone of her standing.
But the pack’s hierarchy is clear to all. Daelor’s father remains a cornerstone of the Nightshade Pack, and his mother is quickly becoming a dominant force in werewolf politics. As the eldest heir of the Briarhallow family, Daelor’s rank surpasses nearly everyone else’s. Even Jennifer’s own son, Thomas, doesn’t measure up.
Outside of Elowen and the senior Alpha couple of the Briarhallow clan,
Daelor holds the highest standing. Not even his two uncles, combined, rival
his influence within the pack.
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Realizing her losing position, Mary turns to Elowen for support. Her voice
takes on a pleading tone. “Grandmother, just look at Daelor… He’s been
enchanted by that sly woman! He-”
Her words vanish the moment Elowen fixes her with a stern look. The elder matriarch’s frown deepens as she gazes at her granddaughter. Though usually gentle, Elowen’s expression–devoid of her usual warmth–radiates
the commanding presence she’s cultivated over years of leadership.
My chest tightens involuntarily. Though I had steeled myself for rejection
prior to arriving at the Nightshade Pack, confronting it head–on now causes
my breath to catch. It feels as if an unseen hand has gripped my heart, leaving me gasping for air. I’ve always known they’d never welcome me at
Daelor’s side.
“Mary.” Elowen’s voice is calm but firm, carrying undeniable authority.
“That’s enough.”
Mary blinks, stunned–clearly expecting her grandmother to defend her.
“But Grandmother-”
“Jennifer,” Elowen interjects, shifting her gaze to Mary’s mother. “Please
take your daughter somewhere to calm down. She’s creating a scene in
front of our guest.”
Jennifer quickly nods and firmly grips Mary’s arm. “Come along, Mary. We
need to have a discussion.”
“But Grandmother!” Mary exclaims, resisting her mother’s grip. “Aelira is
set to be Alarion Riven’s ex–Luna! She is not right for Daelor whatsoever!
Everyone in the Northern Territory is talking about her!”
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“I know exactly who she is,” Elowen responds calmly, surprising everyone
present, including me.
She knows? From the beginning?
Jennifer nearly pulls Mary from the room, muttering strict reprimands as they exit. Mary’s expression reveals her feelings of betrayal and confusion
as she disappears through the door.
Lisa Cain, who had been quiet during the exchange, steps forward
carefully. Her flawless features contort into a look of concerned sympathy.
“Elder Briarhallow,” she respectfully addresses, “I must agree with Mary.
The reputation of the Nightshade Pack is on the line. Having your heir
linked with a she–wolf who is breaking her mate bond…” She shakes her
head sadly, as if the thought causes her pain. “It portrays the wrong
message to other packs.”
My wolf stirs uncomfortably beneath my skin. The condescension in her
voice is unmistakable.
I anticipate that Elowen will at least weigh her words. After all, Lisa clearly belongs to an influential family allied with the Briarhallows. Her opinion.
should matter.
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Instead, Elowen narrows her silver–gray eyes–so similar to Daelor’s–just
slightly.
“Lisa,” she speaks with a measured calmness, “has anyone sought out
your opinion regarding my grandson’s choice of mate?”
Lisa’s perfectly polished demeanor falters just a bit. “I only intended to-”
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“Daelor likes her,” Elowen states plainly. “That is sufficient for me.”
I nearly gasp at her words. Elowen Briarhallow, head of one of the most formidable werewolf packs in the Northern Territory, is dismissing all
concerns with such a straightforward assertion.
“But-” Lisa attempts again.
“Thank you for your visit and your gift,” Elowen says, her tone signaling that
the discussion is concluded. “I’m certain you can find your way out.”
Lisa remains frozen for a moment before mustering her composure with
evident effort. She gives a rigid nod, her scent revealing her frustration despite her seemingly calm expression. Without another word, she turns
and leaves, her perfect posture barely concealing the tension in her
shoulders.
Once everyone has exited, Elowen beams at us. “It’s time for me to rest. You young ones enjoy the remainder of your day.” With that, she, too, departs, leaving Daelor and me alone in the dining area.
I turn to him, completely confused.
“What just transpired?” I murmur, still reeling from Elowen’s unexpected
backing.
Daelor leans back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his
mouth. “Grandmother likes you.”
“But why?” I urge, struggling to grasp it all. “Why would the Briarhallow family accept someone like me as their Alpha heir? I’m in the process of severing my mate bond with Alarion–your supposed friend. In the eyes of
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pack society, I’m considered damaged goods. It makes no sense.”
His silver–gray eyes sparkle with amusement. “Perhaps you’re far more
charming than you give yourself credit for, little wolf.”
“Please be serious, Daelor,” I assert, leaning in. “This isn’t how hierarchies
operate within packs. There must be more to this.”
He shrugs, his strong shoulders shifting beneath his shirt. “Grandmother
saved your life, and in turn, you saved hers. Perhaps she views this as
wolves settling debts.”
I’m not completely convinced, but his relaxed demeanor oddly reassures
- me. If he isn’t worried, maybe I shouldn’t be, either.
“I think we should head out today,” I propose. “We’ve achieved what we set
out to do, haven’t we? Your grandmother has met me and, unexpectedly,
hasn’t protested against me being your ‘intended mate.‘ Mission achieved.”
Daelor nods as he stands from his chair. “I’ll ask George to get the car
ready.”
While we collect our belongings and get ready to leave, I notice Jennifer gazing at us intently from the second–floor landing. Her stare isn’t hostile like Mary’s or calculating like Lisa’s – rather, it feels evaluative and
assessing as if she’s trying to piece together a puzzle.
“Your aunt is observing us,” I murmur to Daelor while pretending to adjust
my bag.
He glances up casually and then resumes loading our things into the
waiting SUV. “Let her observe.”
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His indifference is intriguing. Either he truly doesn’t mind his family’s
scrutiny, or there’s something he knows that I’m unaware of. I can’t
determine which option is more unsettling.
“Doesn’t that bother you?” I inquire as he assists me into the vehicle. “All
those people judging and questioning your choice?”
A smirk plays at one corner of Daelor’s lips. “Do you think I became Alpha
by worrying about what others think of my decisions?”
I have to concede he makes a valid point. His independence stands out as
one of his most remarkable traits so different from Alarion, who
–
constantly frets over appearances and pack dynamics.
As we pull away from Nightshade Pack territory, I feel the tension in my
shoulders finally ease. My wolf, which has been on high alert throughout
the visit, gradually settles. The burden of pretending to be something I’m.
not – Daelor’s intended mate – has been exhausting.
“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Daelor asks, his gaze fixed on the road
ahead.
“Not too bad?” I chuckle nervously. “Your cousin nearly lost it; that Lisa
woman looked ready to scratch my eyes out, and your grandmother
somehow already knew about my severing the mate bond with Alarion. I’d
say that was quite eventful.”
Daelor laughs, the sound deep and surprisingly warm. “Welcome to pack
politics, little wolf. You navigated it quite well.”
Just as I’m about to reply, my phone rings from my bag. I pull it out, expecting it to be Oriana checking in on me.
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Instead, Alarion Riven’s name lights up the screen.
My soon–to–be ex–mate is calling.
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My stomach drops immediately. What could he possibly want? We’ve
already begun the process of severing our mate bond. There shouldn’t be
anything left to discuss.
I stare at the screen, my finger hovering over the answer button. Daelor
glances over, his silver–gray eyes darkening upon seeing who is calling.
“Are you going to pick that up?” he asks, his tone deliberately neutral,
though his scent subtly shifts.
I take a deep breath, my wolf stirring nervously within me. The last thing I
need is for Alarion to complicate matters. But ignoring him might only
make him more persistent.
My finger moves towards the screen just as we cross the boundary of
Nightshade Pack territory, entering the neutral zone between packs.
Alarion’s timing can’t be worse – or perhaps, knowing him, it’s deliberately
timed.
–
As we leave the Nightshade Pack’s territory, I experience a sense of relief sweep over me, my wolf finally settling down within. Just then, my phone
begins to ring.
It’s Alarion Riven, my soon–to–be ex–mate.
