Chapter 78 Bug
Get 18 >
Memi
Aelira’s POV
“What type of evidence?” I lean forward with eagerness, my heart pounding with excitement. After everything Cyrinne has inflicted upon me, the idea of having something solid to use against her fills me with vengeful delight.
Daelor’s lips form that confident smile which has become oddly comforting over these weeks. His
silver–gray eyes shimmer with victory.
“Do you remember when I mentioned I had something on Cyrinne?”
I nod rapidly, barely containing my anticipation. “You specified it wasn’t related to the pregnancy.”
“It’s far more significant,” Daelor begins, but is interrupted by an alert on his mobile device.
He checks the screen, and his expression shifts to one of pleasant surprise. He turns the phone
toward me. “Look at this first.”
A video reveals a woman walking toward a hotel room door–Cyrinne Wynthor. Her auburn hair is
hastily tied back into a ponytail, and she’s wearing oversized sunglasses, even though it’s evening. She
clearly tries to stay under the radar, glancing anxiously over her shoulder as she walks.
My stomach knots as I recognize the hotel room number–312. Jornic’s room. My brother’s room.
Cyrinne knocks lightly, her body language tense. The door opens, though the person inside remains
out of view.
“Jornic! What is wrong with your face?” Cyrinne’s voice carries a tone of concern, almost too familiar.
So Daelor did indeed hurt him badly. I experience a strange blend of satisfaction and guilt at this realization. My brother deserves retribution for how he treated me, yet I can’t fully ignore the care I still
feel for him.
Jornic’s hand appears, pulling her inside abruptly. “Get in here before someone spots you.”
The door clicks shut behind them, and the video cuts off. I stare at the blank screen, a wave of nausea washing over me.
“This was recorded just now?” I ask, my voice trembling with emotion.
Daelor nods, his expression one of gravity. “My security team has been tracking your brother’s movements since our departure.”
I release a breath, a hollow feeling settling in my chest. “So it’s true. They are involved with each other.”
12:44
39.0%
< Chapter 78 Bug
Get 18 >
= Menu
The betrayal strikes deep–my own brother with the woman who has shattered my marriage and played a role in our mother’s demise.
“It seems that way,” Daelor confirms, observing my reaction closely. His hand reaches over to cover
mine, offering silent encouragement.
I push the phone back toward him, disappointment flooding my senses. “Is that your evidence? A recording of Cyrinne visiting my brother? We already suspected they were meeting.”
Daelor’s lips quirk in amusement. “That was merely the appetizer. The main course is far more
revealing.”
He reaches into his jacket pocket and extracts a small Bluetooth earpiece. With careful hands, he tucks my hair behind my ear and positions the device with precision. His fingers brush against my
skin, sending a shiver racing down my spine.
“What are you doing?” I inquire, perplexed by his actions yet strangely stirred by his touch.
“Before I departed from your brother’s hotel room,” Daelor explains, his voice low and content, “I installed a recording device beneath the dresser. I had a feeling it might prove useful.”
My eyes widen in shock. “You bugged his room?”
Daelor shrugs nonchalantly, his silver–gray eyes sparkling with mischief. “I figured we might be interested in eavesdropping on their conversation. Don’t worry–it’s completely untraceable.”
I am about to argue about the morality of such spying when voices suddenly stream through the
earpiece, causing me to gasp.
“What happened to your face?” Cyrinne’s voice inquires urgently, clearly worried. “Did Aelira do this?”
Jornic scoffs derisively. “No, her new Alpha watchdog did it. That Briarhallow guy knows how to throw a punch, I’ll give him that.”
I lock eyes with Daelor. He looks completely unapologetic, even pleased. I can’t help but feel a rush of
gratitude for his defense of me.
“Why were they here?” Cyrinne’s voice cuts through with anxiety. “Did they follow me? Is Alarion
aware?”
“No,” Jornic replies, sounding both frustrated and panicked. “They followed me. Apparently, they saw
us meeting in the woods earlier.”
There’s a sound of something crashing against the wall–Cyrinne’s handbag, perhaps? “Damn it, Jornic! I warned you to be more cautious! This could jeopardize everything!”
12:44
39 110
< Chapter 78 Bug
Get 18 >
Menu
“How was I supposed to know they were tailing me?” Jornic shoots back. “I’m not accustomed to being stalked by Alpha wolves!”
“That’s why she confronted me in the hallway earlier,” Cyrinne’s voice becomes softer, more
calculating. “She knows we’re involved. She mentioned our meeting today.”
I can’t help but share a victorious glance with Daelor. The confirmation is oddly gratifying, even as it
stings to hear them discuss me like I’m the adversary.
“This is bad, Jornic,” Cyrinne presses on, her voice laden with concern. “If Alarion discovers our
relationship-”
“What does it matter?” Jornic interrupts bitterly. “You said he has no interest in you. That you’re just a
tool for him.”
A lengthy pause ensues. “It’s complicated,” Cyrinne finally replies, her tone evasive. “My situation is fragile right now. I can’t risk any scandals.”
“Is it because of the pregnancy?” Jornic asks, his tone sharp and bitter. “The pregnancy that may not
even belong to Alarion?”
My breath catches in my throat. So Jornic is aware of Cyrinne’s deception surrounding the paternity!
“Among other things,” she responds vaguely, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation’s trajectory.
I lean in closer, straining to hear everything, as if that will clarify the turmoil between them. My wolf
stirs uneasily beneath my skin.
“Perhaps we should stop seeing each other,” Cyrinne suggests softly, her voice adopting the
manipulative sweetness I’ve come to recognize. “At least until things calm down. I don’t want to create a rift between you and your sister.”
HEI
“She’s not my sister!” Jornic’s voice erupts with such intensity that I flinch, the earpiece pressing
painfully against my ear.
Pain slices through my chest at his words. How can he say that? We have the same parents, share the
same childhood memories, and both experienced the same grief when our father passed away. And
now he completely denies our bond?
“Cyrinne…” Her voice carries a warning tone. “You know that’s not accurate. You’re angry, but-”
“It is accurate,” he retorts, lowering his voice to a threatening whisper that feels even more chilling than his yelling. “After what she did, she’s dead to me. She destroyed our parents as if she had used her
own claws.”
I fight against the tears that threaten to flow, my hand reflexively resting on my belly, where my unborn
1 12.44
39.21%
<Chapter 78 Bug
Get 18 >
Menu
child is developing. Despite all our recent conflicts, I never imagined that Jornic would so cruelly and
utterly disown me as his sister.
“Let’s avoid this topic for now,” Cyrinne suggests, her tone adopting that calming, healer quality she employs with her patients. “You’re upset. We both are. This isn’t beneficial for either of us.”
“Fine,” Jornic agrees reluctantly, although his voice still shakes with rage.
“I think I should leave,” Cyrinne says after a brief silence. “We’ll sort this out, okay? We’ll stay friends no
matter what happens.”
Friends? The term feels strangely out of place. Just friends? After all those secret meetings and
heartfelt conversations? Something doesn’t seem right.
I hear movement–the door opening and closing.
“She’s gone,” Daelor announces, checking his phone. “My security team just confirmed she has left the
hotel. She’s on her way to her car.”
I take off the earpiece, my emotions a tangled mess. Anger toward Jornic for his harsh words. Distrust regarding Cyrinne’s true intentions. Confusion about the nature of their relationship.
“I don’t understand,” I confess, rubbing my temples as a headache begins to form. “If they’re not seeing each other romantically, what is she doing with him? Last I checked, Jornic lacks money, influence, or power. He’s unemployed and living off the small inheritance our mother left.
Daelor’s silver–gray eyes narrow in thought. “Perhaps Cyrinne’s real target isn’t your brother at all.”
I regard him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe it’s you,” he states plainly, observing me closely to gauge my reaction. “Everything Cyrinne does seems aimed at causing you specific harm. Your brother might just be a means to that end.”
The idea is unsettling. What have I done to Cyrinne that would warrant such focused animosity?
Before I can process that troubling notion, we arrive at the parking garage. A tall, professional man approaches our vehicle, his expression serious yet respectful.
“The package has been secured, Alpha,” he informs, handing Daelor a small device.
“Thanks, George,” Daelor replies, accepting the item with a pleased nod.
I recognize Daelor’s personal assistant from the night he returned intoxicated to Myrthale Residences. He gives me a respectful nod before stepping back, his demeanor revealing nothing of his thoughts.
Once inside Daelor’s high–end SUV, I turn to him. “What did he mean by ‘the package has been
12:44
39.33%
< Chapter 78 Bug
secured“?”
Get 18 >
Menu
Daelor’s lips twist into a smile that sends chills down my spine. “The real evidence I mentioned earlier.
This will make sure Cyrinne can never pose a threat to you again.”
He connects his phone to the car’s audio system and hits play on a recording.
Initially, only muted sounds fill the space – the rustle of fabric and heavy breaths. Then, a soft moan escapes a woman’s lips. Heat rushes to my face as I come to grips with the reality of the situation.
“Daelor!” I whisper sharply, feeling shame for listening to such personal sounds in his presence. My
cheeks flush with embarrassment.
I reach for his phone to cease the recording, but in my fluster, I fumble it. From the front seat, I see George steal a glance at the rearview mirror before he smoothly lifts the privacy divider, clearly
misunderstanding the circumstance.
My cheeks grow even hotter. “Daelor, this is out of line.”
Then, the voices clarify. A woman exhales sharply, “Alpha Roderic, someone might overhear us! We
must hurry.”
Roderic Riven’s unmistakable voice replies, “No one comes to this area of the building during the
ceremony. Relax, Cyrinne. I’ve been anticipating this all day.”
I freeze, my initial embarrassment replaced by sheer shock. The recording continues, revealing undeniable proof of Cyrinne and Roderic’s liaison.
“How did you obtain this?” I whisper, dumbfounded by what is unfolding in my ears.
