Chapter 80 Horrible News
Aelira’s POV
“Why did you arrive so late?” Daelor questions as I walk toward his car.
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His silver–gray gaze softens when it meets mine, the previous chill aimed at Jastor dissipating.
“Are you hungry?” he inquires, a subtle smile lingering on his lips.
I nod, my stomach giving a small rumble. “Yeah, a little…”
“I’ve made a reservation at Myrthale Lodge,” Daelor informs me, opening the passenger door. “They have some new dishes infused with moonberries that are beneficial for pregnant wolves. Let’s go and
sample them.”
Before I can respond, Jastor’s voice interrupts from behind.
“Myrthale Lodge? Isn’t that a bit far?” He steps closer, his green eyes locking onto me rather than
Daelor. “It takes an hour to drive there and back.”
Surprised by his sudden input, I turn around to face him. Jastor stands with his hands casually in his pockets, his demeanor relaxed, but I can sense his wolf stirring below the surface.
“Aelira, would you prefer to join me at the Silver Pine restaurant next door instead?” he suggests. “They’ve just hired a new chef; I hear he came from a five–star place in the Southern Territory…”
The atmosphere around us chills noticeably. Daelor’s expression hardens almost immediately, his previous warmth replaced by an icy demeanor. His silver–gray eyes darken, resembling storm clouds-
deep and devoid of light.
The two men’s gazes lock, and I can feel the palpable tension of Alpha pheromones throbbing in the air between them. Although Jastor isn’t an Alpha, his wolf senses the challenge stemming from
Daelor’s posture.
“Jastor Halden, correct?” Daelor suddenly grins, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you grasp
the idea of ‘first–come, first–served‘? If you’re uncertain, I can clarify it for you!”
Despite his casual attire and relaxed stance, Daelor exudes a commanding presence typical of an
Alpha wolf. His strong aura causes several passing werewolves to lower their eyes instinctively.
Jastor remains undeterred. “It’s merely a dinner invitation; why the territorial display?” He smiles, but I
can see the tension tighten his jaw. “It hinges on Aelira’s choice…”
He turns to me, his green eyes softening. “Aelira, what do you want to attempt?”
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Despite my limited understanding of pack dynamics, I can sense the tension between the two wolves.
Both are tall and solidly built, their formidable figures reflected in the glass entrance of Verdant Moon
Herbalists, creating a standoff reminiscent of rival wolves.
I clear my throat, feeling the uncomfortable energy in the air. “Thanks, Jastor. I think I’ll stick with Daelor. We already had plans…”
Jastor purses his lips, a flash of disappointment evident in his eyes before he covers it with a smile.
“Alright, we can make plans another time.”
He offers a polite nod to Daelor, yet there’s no warmth in the gesture, and then he walks away. I watch
him depart, an inexplicable guilt washing over me even though I haven’t done anything wrong.
“Keep your distance from him in the future,” Daelor remarks sharply once Jastor is out of earshot. “His
wolf has feelings for you.”
I can’t help but chuckle at his bluntness. “That’s absurd. We’re just colleagues.”
Daelor’s seriousness persists as his gaze tracks Jastor’s disappearing figure. “His wolf disagrees.”
He doesn’t linger on the topic any further, instead steering me toward his car. “Let’s go; I have updates
to share with you.”
As Daelor drives away from the curb, I begin to ponder his reaction to Jastor. Could he be feeling jealous? The idea sends a surprising flutter through my chest.
“What updates?” I inquire, determined to put the thought behind me.
“Check the glove compartment,” he directs, his attention fixated on the road.
I open it to discover a manila folder labeled with today’s date. “What’s this?”
“Open it,” Daelor instructs, his expression neutral.
Inside, I find several official–looking papers. The first document is a prenatal scent marking analysis bearing Cyrinne Wynthor’s name at the top. My eyes widen as I absorb the results.
“Is this…?” My words falter as I digest the information.
“Yes,” Daelor affirms, his tone calm. “This confirms that Cyrinne’s unborn pup is indeed Roderic Riven’s
child.”
I stare at the document, feeling an unsettling blend of vindication and disgust. We suspected it, of course, after overhearing their encounter and witnessing the signs of their affair, but having concrete
evidence makes it undeniably real.
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“So you were correct all along,” I whisper, recalling when he first voiced his doubts about Cyrinne’s
pregnancy report.
“There’s more,” Daelor says, gesturing to the folder. “Look at the second document.”
I flip to the next page and find another analysis, this one linking the prenatal scent markers to Alarion’s genetic profile. My breath catches as I grasp what I’m reading..
“This confirms a sibling relationship,” I articulate slowly as the implications settle in. “Between Alarion and the unborn pup.”
Daelor nods, his jaw clenched with restrained anger. “Cyrinne isn’t merely having an affair with Roderic. She’s expecting his pup–a child who will legally be Alarion’s but biologically his half–sibling.”
A wave of nausea washes over me as the grim reality unfolds. “That’s repulsive,” I murmur, feeling sick. “She’s deceiving Alarion into raising his own half–sibling as if it’s his child!”
“Precisely,” Daelor replies darkly. “And not just any half–sibling–one born from his father’s affair with
the woman who claims to be Alarion’s ‘destined mate.“”
I suddenly recall Cyrinne’s arrogant expression at the hospital, her hand protectively resting on her belly as she proudly showcased her pregnancy. The thought makes my stomach twist in revulsion.
“How did you obtain these test results?” I inquire, scanning the papers once more. “These types of outcomes typically necessitate blood samples.”
Daelor’s lips curve into a pleased smile. “Do you remember when Cyrinne complained of stomach pains at the hospital? Right after our altercation?”
I nod, bringing her theatrical display to mind.
“The doctor collected blood samples at that time,” he clarifies. “I have connections at Aethervale
Hospital who were more than willing to conduct an additional analysis with the existing samples.”
“Is that permissible?” I question, uncertainty creeping into my voice.
Daelor’s silver–gray eyes shimmer. “Let’s say it exists in a gray area. What matters is that we have
definitive evidence now.”
I lean back against the leather seat, attempting to wrap my mind around everything. “Alarion doesn’t deserve this,” I finally state. “No wolf should be deceived into such a situation, no matter what he’s
done.”
Daelor glances at me sideways. “You still have feelings for him.”
It’s not a question, but I feel the need to respond nonetheless. “Not like I once did,” I clarify. “But I
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<Chapter 80 Horrible News
wouldn’t wish this upon anyone.”
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“What about Cyrinne?” Daelor probes. “What consequences do you think she deserves?”
I ponder the question intently. My instinct tells me to seek justice, to see Cyrinne exposed and shamed as she aimed to do to me. But then, I think of the innocent pup developing within her.
“The pup shouldn’t bear the brunt of its parents‘ dishonesty,” I say softly, placing a hand on my own belly. “Still, Cyrinne and Roderic must be held accountable for their actions.”
Daelor nods, his demeanor contemplative. “The pack council would likely remove Cyrinne’s entitlement
to Luna status, regardless of whether she proceeds with the marking ceremony.”
“And what about Roderic?” I ask, considering my arrogant father–in–law.
“As a former Alpha, his punishment would be harsh,” Daelor responds. “Exile from the pack is a
possibility. Intentionally misleading the current Alpha about bloodlines is one of the most serious
transgressions in pack law.”
I gaze out the window, watching the city fly past in a blur. The idea of the Thunder Pack in disarray,
with both Roderic and Cyrinne disgraced, offers me no joy. All I feel is profound sorrow for the
innocent pup ensnared in their deceit.
“I need to present this to Jornic,” I declare at last, meticulously closing the folder. “Once my mate bond
severance is complete. He must understand the true nature of Cyrinne.”
My brother has been completely deceived by Cyrinne to the extent that he has disavowed me as his sister. The thought still stings, but I now have a clearer understanding of why he was so protective of
her.
“My pack will stand by you through whatever lies ahead, Aelira,” Daelor reassures me, his deep voice resonating with certainty. “Keep that in mind.”
His words kindle warmth within me. Over the past weeks, Daelor has evolved into more than just a supporter in my complex situation. He has become someone I trust, someone whose presence offers me a sense of security I haven’t felt in years.
I grasp the reports tightly, the weight of the information they carry feeling nearly tangible. These documents provide undeniable proof of Cyrinne and Roderic’s deceit–sufficient to thwart any efforts by Cyrinne to twist the narrative once the truth emerges to Alarion.
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