Chapter 61 After the Kiss
Aelira’s POV
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I wake abruptly, my heart pounding against my chest. The taste of wolf- whiskey remains on my lips, a vivid reminder of the kiss I hadn’t expected
the previous night.
Confused, I run trembling fingers over my mouth. Did that really occur? Had Daelor Briarhallow, the formidable Alpha King of the Nightshade Pack,
truly kissed me?
The memory floods back with unsettling clarity. I had returned home to find George supporting a drunken Daelor, offering assistance. There had been the spilled remedy, and then… his lips were on mine, eager and demanding, tasting of wolf–whiskey and something that was entirely his
own.
#
“What have I done?” I whisper to the empty room.
After the kiss, I had successfully maneuvered him onto the couch, where he quickly succumbed to unconsciousness. His hands had roamed about my waist before they slipped higher, prompting me to remove them firmly. When he attempted to pull me down next to him, I had stepped away, my
heart racing uncontrollably.
His silver–gray eyes were clouded with inebriation as I covered him with a blanket. I even placed a pillow beneath his head, ensuring he wouldn’t wake up stiff–necked. What a foolish, domestic act for a wolf who had just
trampled over every boundary between us.
I groan, burying my face in my hands. Afterwards, I had stood there, gazing
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at his sleeping face like some infatuated teenager. The strong contours of his jaw had softened in slumber, giving him a younger, almost vulnerable appearance–a stark contrast to his usual authoritative demeanor.
When I finally snapped back to reality, I had hurried to erase any evidence of our compromising encounter. The spilled remedy, the glass of wolf- whiskey, and even the cushion where his head had rested against my
shoulder while I guided him to the couch needed to be dealt with.
I check the clock–5:30 AM. It’s far too early to be awake, yet sleep seems
impossible now. Every time I close my eyes, Daelor’s face appears, his
hands drawing me near, his lips claiming mine with unexpected fervor.
My dreams had been unsettling. Vivid images of Alarion transforming into
Daelor, the latter more forceful and possessive. In my dreams, I don’t push him away. In my dreams, I embrace his advances, permitting his hands to roam my body and his lips to ignite a trail of fire down my neck. I wake, gasping, my body betraying me with its reactions.
“This is absurd,” I mutter, tossing aside my covers. “He was intoxicated. It
was meaningless.”
I understand that a drunken kiss shouldn’t be taken too seriously. Daelor
was clearly inebriated, likely oblivious to his actions. And as for me? I’m
carrying a pup that belongs to another wolf–what right do I have to.
entertain any notions like that?
As I step into the shower, I allow the steaming water to cascade over me,
wishing it would help clear my mind. Unfortunately, it doesn’t. The
recollection of his touch lingers, as if it is seared into my skin. I can still
sense the firmness of his lips, the warmth of his breath, and the strength
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of his embrace.
“No,” I assert to my reflection with determination. “This needs to end now.”
By the time I complete my preparations for work, I am resolute in my
decision to act as if nothing occurred. Hopefully, Daelor will have no
recollection of our encounter. Alpha wolves often suffer from memory
lapses the next day after indulging in wolf–whiskey.
Taking a steadying breath, I swing open my apartment door and almost
bump into Daelor, who stands in the hallway with his hand raised, as if he
is about to knock. He appears far too composed for someone who should
be dealing with a nasty hangover.
“Good morning,” he greets, his deep tone sending an involuntary shudder
down my spine.
I instinctively step back. “Morning.”
He winces slightly, one hand moving to his temple. So, he isn’t completely
unscathed after all. His eyes are a bit bloodshot, the silver–gray dulling
under the weight of his evident headache.
“Are you on your way to work?” he asks, his gaze flickering briefly to my lips
before meeting my eyes again.
I nod with stiffness, grasping my bag like a barrier between us. Does he
remember? Is he thinking about that kiss at this very moment?
His silver–gray eyes examine me with an unsettling scrutiny. “I have a peculiar feeling I saw you last night. Was that real, or did I imagine it?”
My heart skips a beat. “Dream,” I reply, a touch too hastily.
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“Ah.” He seems almost let down. “I have vague memories of you being
present when George brought me home. Something about a remedy? And
you on my couch?”
Heat floods my face. “Nope,” I lie, evading his gaze. “It must have been the
wolf–whiskey messing with your mind. I didn’t see you last night.”
I rush toward the elevator, eager to escape this exchange. To my dismay, he follows, stepping in closely behind me. His scent envelops the confined
space–a familiar and unmistakable Alpha musk that feels unbearably
intense following our unexpected closeness the night before.
“I’ll drive you to work,” he suggests, standing a bit too close in the elevator.
“In fact,” I begin, focusing intently on the elevator buttons, “I have
something I need to tell you.”
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
“I’m planning to move back to my old apartment.”
The words linger between us. I anticipate his response, searching for any indication of how he feels. Will he attempt to persuade me to stay? Does
the recollection of our kiss, if it is indeed in his memory, make him desire
my presence or push me away?
“If that’s what you want,” he replies simply.
His apathy hurts more than it should. After the way he caressed my face in
the car, and the intensity of his gaze when he looked at me–did I dream it
all? The kiss must have been nothing more than a drunken whim,
insignificant to him.
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“I believe it’s for the best,” I carry on, needing to break the silence. “With the severance of the mate bond underway, I should start to become more
independent again.”
He gives a nod, his face displaying no clear emotions. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. The apartment is available to you until you find an alternative.”
The elevator doors slide open, and we make our way to his car, both of us
enveloped in an uncomfortable silence.
I can’t stop questioning whether he genuinely doesn’t remember the kiss or
if he’s merely pretending for my benefit. Regardless, his easy acceptance of my choice to leave validates it. Once I return to my previous place, our encounters will diminish, and these mixed feelings will eventually fade.
Inside his vehicle, the quiet remains unbroken. I gaze out the window,
acutely conscious of his presence beside me, his strong hands firmly
clutching the steering wheel–those same hands that had pulled me close
just hours before, that had embraced me while his mouth claimed mine.
The tension fractures as my phone rings. I glance at the display–Dr. Nyve
n Leyric from Aethervale Hospital. My stomach twists with anxiety as I
take the call.
“Hello, Dr. Leyric.”
“Ms. Sunmere,” he replies, his tone serious. “I’m reaching out regarding
Esther Riven.”
I straighten in my seat. “Has her condition declined?” Alarion’s mother has
been in the hospital for over a week.
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“Unfortunately, not for the better.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “She’s been treated for a week with no enhancement. In fact, she is losing
consciousness more often.”
“I’m confused,” I say, concern knitting my brow. “Wasn’t the initial diagnosis a heart attack?”
“Yes, but I’m starting to think it might be something more.” His voice
lowers. “I fear she could be suffering from poisoning.”
The very word sends a chill through me. “Poisoning? Are you certain?”
“No, which is why I’m contacting you. As a herbalist, your insight might be invaluable. Would you be able to search Esther’s room or bring me her
recent medications for examination? There could be clues we are
overlooking.”
I notice Daelor’s gaze on me, evidently intrigued by the serious turn in our
discussion.
“Of course,” I reply. “I’ll do what I can. Is this urgent?”
“Most definitely,” Dr. Leyric affirms. “Her systems are gradually failing. If
my concerns are accurate, we must swiftly identify the substance.”
“I understand. I’ll reach out to you as soon as I uncover anything.”
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