Chapter 77 Fake Brother
Aelira’s POV
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Blood sprays as Daelor’s fist connects with my brother’s jaw. The noise of the impact causes me to
flinch.
“Stop! Daelor, stop!” I shout, my voice cracking with urgency.
Jornic stumbles back, his lip split and an eye already swelling. Daelor positions himself between us, his formidable body tense and ready to strike again. Growing up in the Nightshade Pack compound, undergoing elite enforcer training, has made him deadly, evident in every precise maneuver he makes.
“You will not touch her,” Daelor growls, his silver–gray eyes glinting dangerously. “Not ever.”
Jornic spits blood onto the carpet. “She’s not your concern, Alpha. This is a family matter.”
Daelor steps forward again, and Jornic recoils. Despite his bravado, my brother cannot compete with
an Alpha of Daelor’s strength.
“Please,” I plead, advancing toward them. “That’s enough.”
My wolf whines anxiously within me, worried not only for my brother but also for my unborn pup. This
tension isn’t good for either of us.
Jornic glares at me, wiping blood from his mouth. His eyes–so similar to our mother’s–are filled with
a hatred I’ve never witnessed before.
“Why are you here, Aelira? Have you come to spy on me? To report back to your precious Alarion?”
“No,” I respond, struggling to maintain my composure. “I saw you today. With Cyrinne. I need to
understand what’s happening.”
A bitter laugh escapes his bloodied lips. “Of course. Always so focused on pack politics, aren’t you?
Just like Dad.”
“What does that mean?” I inquire, bewildered by the comparison.
Jornic straightens, his wolf’s anger emanating from him like a palpable force. “It means I’m done. With all of it. With you.”
His words strike me like a physical blow. “Jornic, please-”
“No!” he bellows, his eyes flashing with his wolf’s rage. “I am no longer your brother. You ceased to be
my sister the moment you chose that Riven bastard over your own family.”
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Tears sting my eyes. “That’s not fair. I never abandoned our family.”
“Didn’t you?” His voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “Mom died because of you. Dad died because of you. Everyone who loves you ends up dead, Aelira.”
I stagger back as though he has hit me. “What are you saying? Dad was killed during a hunter attack. It was random and tragic-”
“It was your fault!” Jornic shouts, the essence of his wolf momentarily visible in his eyes. “He shouldn’t have sacrificed himself for you! If you hadn’t strayed from the group that day, if you had followed the instructions, he would still be alive!”
The accusation leaves me gasping for breath. For years, I have believed that my father’s death was a tragic incident–hunters discovering our family in neutral territory while we were gathering herbs. At sixteen, I was shattered by the loss. But Jornic’s version presents an entirely different narrative.
“Leave,” Jornic commands, his voice suddenly icy and final. “Both of you. And if I ever see you again, Aelira, I won’t be accountable for my actions.”
Daelor steps beside me, his arm steadying me as my knees threaten to buckle. “Let’s go,” he whispers,
his powerful Alpha scent wrapping around me like a shield.
I take a final glance at my brother, barely recognizing the man standing before me. “Jornic, please-
“Out!” he bellows, his wolf’s fur seeming to ripple beneath his skin.
Daelor leads me toward the exit, positioning his body to protect me in case Jornic makes a move.
Instead, my brother simply turns his back, his shoulders tense with rage.
In the corridor, I lean against the wall, my thoughts spinning from Jornic’s claims. How can he hold me
responsible for our father’s death? And what tie could he possibly have to Cyrinne Wynthor?
“He’s just talking in circles,” Daelor asserts, gently tilting my chin to meet his eyes. “You understand that, right?”
I nod hesitantly. “But what if he has a point? What if my father died to save me? I was so young then.
The specifics are hazy.”
Daelor’s silver–gray eyes soften. “Even if that were the case, it wouldn’t be on you. A parent’s instinct to
protect their child is the most natural thing in existence.”
Before I can reply, I hear the elevator at the end of the hall ding. The doors open to reveal a familiar silhouette–Cyrinne Wynthor.
1
Despite her best efforts to conceal herself with a scarf and scent–masking charms, I would recognize her anywhere. Her pregnant form is now impossible to miss, straining against her expensive blouse.
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Our gazes lock, and for a brief moment, she seems paralyzed. Then, with a muttered curse, she begins to jab at the elevator button repeatedly.
With Alpha speed, Daelor stretches out his hand, halting the doors from closing. “Going somewhere, Miss Wynthor?”
Cyrinne’s emerald eyes flit between us, and I can see her calculating her next move. “What a surprise,” she replies, her tone laced with insincerity. “The soon–to–be–ex Luna of the Thunder Pack, at a hotel with another Alpha. How scandalous.”
My cheeks flush with anger. “That’s a bold move coming from you.”
Cyrinne steps out of the elevator, clearly opting for offense as her best defense. “I’m not the one betraying a mate bond, Aelira. You’re still technically bound to Alarion.”
I let out a bitter laugh, instinctively placing my hand on my belly, where my own child is growing. “And you’re carrying what you claim is his child while sleeping with his father. How’s Roderic treating you these days, Cyrinne? Still meeting in secret?”
Her emerald eyes briefly widen before they narrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We both understand that’s untrue,” I respond, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin. “Just like we are both aware that you came here to meet my brother.”
Cyrinne’s feigned innocence is nearly impressive. “Your brother? I don’t even know him.”
“We saw you,” I insist, closing the distance between us. “Earlier today on the mountain road. And now
you’re here. What on earth could you possibly want with Jornic Sunmere?”
“I’ve never even met anyone by that name,” Cyrinne asserts, her emerald eyes widened in a show of false confusion. “If you keep spreading such slanderous rumors, I will file a complaint with the Unified Land Registry.”
CLIEN
The veiled threat reminds me of our fragile situation. My bond with Alarion is still in the process of being severed. Any complications might delay that.
“What is it that you want with my brother?” I challenge, standing my ground despite her intimidation. tactics. “Haven’t you caused enough harm to my family already?”
Cyrinne scoffs at me. “Your paranoia is troubling, Aelira. Perhaps it’s time you consult a healer about these delusions.”
“Cut the charade,” I retort, my patience dwindling. “I know you’re somehow manipulating him. If anything goes wrong with Jornic-”
“Is that a threat?” Cyrinne interjects, her tone sharp. “Because I’m certain that Alpha Riven would be
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very interested to hear about you threatening a pregnant she–wolf.”
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Daelor steps forward, his Alpha presence filling the space. “Be cautious, Miss Wynthor. Your position isn’t as stable as you believe.”
Cyrinne’s confident smile falters just a bit. “I don’t know what kind of game you two are playing, but
keep your distance from me. And keep your wild accusations to yourselves.”
“Just stay away from my brother,” I reply, my voice softer now but still intense. “Whatever scheme you’re wrapped up in-”
“You understand nothing,” Cyrinne hisses, her facade cracking momentarily. “You know nothing about
me or what’s really going on.”
“I know more than you realize,” I counter, carefully observing her reaction. “And others might discover it
too if you’re not cautious.”
A flicker of something crosses her emerald eyes–perhaps worry? Fear? “What exactly do you think you know?” she retorts, her wolf’s scent betraying a hint of unease despite her confident stance.
I maintain eye contact with her, conscious that revealing too much could put everything at risk.
“Enough to caution you, Cyrinne. Secrets have a way of surfacing.”
Cyrinne’s lips curl into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Is that right? Then why not tell Alarion everything you believe you know? Unless you’re just bluffing.‘
11
The elevator chimes again, and Cyrinne steps back inside. “Keep your distance, Aelira. And remember -I’ll be Luna of the Thunder Pack in under a month. Your time is running out.
As the doors shut on her smug expression, I lean heavily against Daelor, feeling suddenly drained. “I
can’t believe I let her walk away with that,” I mumble.
Daelor’s arm tightens around my waist in support. “You acted wisely. Confronting her head–on would only complicate matters.”
We move slowly toward the stairwell, my thoughts swirling with everything that has transpired. First, Jornic’s shocking allegations, then Cyrinne’s unexpected arrival–it’s all overwhelming.
“I can’t stand that she’s going to get away with everything,” I express as we make our way down the
stairs. “The affair with Roderic, whatever she’s plotting with my brother–she always seems to emerge
victorious.”
A predator
sparkle flickers in Daelor’s silver–gray eyes. “She won’t escape this. Not this time.”
I lift my gaze toward him, a spark of hope igniting in my chest. “What do you mean by that?”
possess evidence,” he replies, his tone matter–of–fact. “Against Cyrinne.”
“Are
you referring to the pregnancy? About Roderic being the father?” My wolf stirs anxiously inside me. “What if she claims I caused her miscarriage during our confrontation? She could twist it to win Alarion’s pity.”
Daelor shakes his head, a satisfied grin forming on his lips. “Not that kind of evidence. It’s something completely different.”
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