Chapter 82 Separate
Aelira’s POV
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“So, when is the next gathering for the Nightshade Pack?” Dr. Leyric asks, slicing into his venison with practiced skill. “I’ve heard your grandmother’s renowned moonberry wine will be served.”
Daelor looks at me before replying, his silver–gray eyes searching for silent agreement. I give a slight nod, signaling my comfort with the subject.
“This weekend,” Daelor responds, his deep voice casual, though I notice the tension creeping into his shoulders. “The whole family will be there for my uncle’s birthday celebration.”
“And, naturally, you’ll be bringing your lovely intended mate,” Dr. Leyric remarks with a knowing smile directed at me.
I feel my cheeks warm at his words. I’m still not accustomed to being referred to as Daelor’s intended, even within the context of our pretend relationship.
“I am,” Daelor affirms, his hand briefly gliding over mine on the table. The gesture feels instinctive, a result of our previous performances.
Dr. Leyric’s eyes shine with mischief. “Is there any chance I could accompany you? Not to the family event, of course, but perhaps we could discuss my involvement in your territory security project?”
Daelor raises an eyebrow, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Are you already weary of hospital politics?”
“Let’s just say I’m keeping my options flexible,” Dr. Leyric responds with a casual shrug, though I can
detect an underlying seriousness in his lighthearted tone.
“Submit a proper proposal, and I’ll think about it,” Daelor states, taking a sip of his water. “But ensure Luna Randall isn’t involved in any way.”
I notice the subtle shift in Daelor’s demeanor when he brings up this individual. Dr. Leyric seems to
grasp the situation instantly, quickly nodding in response.
“Don’t worry, she isn’t a member of my team,” he reassures Daelor. “Though she has been inquiring
about you recently.”
Daelor’s jaw clenches slightly, almost undetectably. “She can keep inquiring.”
My curiosity can’t be contained. Who is Luna Randall? The name doesn’t ring a bell for me, but it’s
evident there’s some sort of history involved–something uncomfortable, judging by Daelor’s reaction.
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As we finish our meal, the conversation steers toward lighter subjects. By the time we’re ready to depart, Dr. Leyric is fighting off yawns, clearly starting to feel the effects of jet lag from his journey.
“I’ll give you a ride home,” Daelor suggests as we exit the restaurant.
Dr. Leyric tries to object, but another large yawn undermines his argument. “Fine, but I won’t sit in the back like a puppy.”
“I wouldn’t dream of that,” Daelor replies with a smile, opening the passenger door for his friend.
As we drive, Dr. Leyric falls asleep almost instantly, his head reclining against the window. The sight makes me grin–powerful werewolves aren’t immune to jet lag after all.
“Your friend is nice,” I whisper, careful not to disturb him.
Daelor glances at Nyven in the rearview mirror. “He’s one of the best wolves I know,” he agrees, keeping his voice low as well. “Though he would never acknowledge it.
With Dr. Leyric in slumber, I decide to bring up a topic that has been on my mind since our lunch
discussion.
“About this weekend,” I start tentatively. “Are you certain I’m supposed to go?”
Daelor’s silver–gray eyes flick briefly to mine in the mirror. “Having second thoughts?”
I absentmindedly rest my hand on my stomach, a gesture that has become routine. “I’m just thinking ahead. My pregnancy will start becoming more visible soon. It could complicate our arrangement.”
Daelor reflects on this for a moment, his expression contemplative. “We could stage a breakup after the event,” he proposes. “That would resolve the issue of my family’s matchmaking attempts.”
His suggestion startles me, though it makes complete sense. “That’s actually a solid idea,” I concede. “A clean separation before things get more complex.”
A fleeting emotion crosses Daelor’s face, too quick for me to decipher. “So, we’ll go this weekend as planned, and then end our ‘relationship.‘ I’ll take care of my family from that point on.”
my
I nod, grateful that he comprehends my concerns. “Thank you. I just don’t want my pregnancy to
become gossip fodder in your pack.”
“If it becomes impossible to conceal, we can simply disclose it,” Daelor casually shrugs, as if the potential scandal doesn’t faze him at all. “My family would be shocked, but they’d adjust.”
His assurance is comforting, yet I know that pack politics are seldom straightforward. A scandal involving the Alpha and a pregnant, divorcing she–wolf would certainly create significant upheaval.
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“I would prefer to avoid that situation,” I state firmly. “Your family has been kind to me, all things considered. I don’t want to repay that kindness with dishonesty.”
Daelor’s lips curve into a slight smile. “You care more about my family’s feelings than I do,” he
remarks.
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“I hold them in high regard,” I respond simply. “Especially your grandmother. She has been nothing but welcoming to me.”
We fall quiet as Dr. Leyric stirs slightly in his sleep, murmuring something that we can’t quite make out
before he settles back down.
“This will be our final meeting,” Daelor assures, his voice barely above a whisper. “After this, we’ll arrange our separation, and you won’t have to contend with my family’s expectations any longer.”
Something about his tone prompts me to look at him with curiosity, yet his expression gives away
nothing.
“I’m truly grateful for everything you’ve done,” I express earnestly. “Not just the façade of our
relationship, but everything.”
Daelor’s gaze meets mine momentarily in the mirror, containing a warmth that unexpectedly sends a shiver through me.
“It’s been a pleasure,” he replies.
“Are you really breaking up with him?” Oriana nearly chokes on her moonberry tea, her eyes wide in
shock,
Later that evening, we sit in my apartment, catching up after several hectic days apart. I have just shared my intention to end the charade with Daelor.
“It’s not a genuine breakup,” I remind her, rolling my eyes. “We were never an actual couple.”
Oriana narrows her eyes at me. “Is he pulling away? Because if he is, I’ll-”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” I interject swiftly. “It was actually my decision. With the pregnancy progressing, the pretense is becoming harder to maintain.”
“Hmm.” Oriana doesn’t look convinced. “And you’re alright with this?”
I nod, perhaps a bit too vigorously. “Absolutely. It was always supposed to be temporary. Just until my
bond with Alarion is officially severed.”
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“Right,” Oriana responds skeptically. She puts down her cup and fixes me with an intense gaze. “And
you feel nothing for Daelor? Absolutely nothing?”
I squirm under her intense scrutiny. “I respect him,” I admit carefully. “He has been incredibly
supportive and helpful during this tough time.”
“But you don’t love him,” Oriana insists, a knowing spark in her eye.
“No!” My answer comes out too quickly and with too much emphasis. I take a breath, trying to sort through my muddled emotions. “I mean, how could I? I’m still technically mated to Alarion. I’m carrying his pup. And Daelor is…”
“Attractive, strong, kind to you, and protective of you and your pup,” Oriana lists on her fingers. “And
he’s clearly interested in you.”
My cheeks flush. “He’s not interested in me. He’s just being kind.”
Oriana’s laughter is filled with disbelief. “Oh, sweetie. No Alpha goes to these lengths for someone
they’re ‘just being nice‘ to.” She leans in closer, her expression growing serious. “What are you truly
afraid of, Aelira?”
Her question strikes uncomfortably close to home. I look away, unable to face her penetrating stare.
“I’m frightened of making another mistake,” I finally confess in a whisper. “Of misinterpreting kindness
and ending up hurt again. Besides, Daelor deserves someone better than a pregnant, divorcing she- wolf like me with all my baggage.”
Oriana reaches across the table, gently squeezing my hand. “You deserve happiness, Aelira. After all you’ve faced, don’t you think you’ve earned it?”
Her words resonate deeply within me, stirring a longing I’ve been trying to suppress. Before I can
respond, she continues.
“Imagine how furious Alarion and Cyrinne would be if you ended up with someone like Daelor,” she
adds with a cheeky grin.
I can’t help but laugh at that. “Now you’re just being spiteful.”
“Perhaps,” she concedes with a shrug. “But am I wrong?”
To divert her from her matchmaking efforts, I decide to reveal the startling news I’ve received from
Daelor.
“Speaking of Cyrinne,” I remark, locking eyes with Oriana, whose curiosity is piqued, “you won’t believe what Daelor has discovered. Cyrinne is expecting a child with Roderic Riven.”
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Oriana’s expression is one of shock as her jaw drops. “Alarion’s Dad?”
I nod somberly. “Yes, and she intends to present the pup as Alarion’s.”
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“This is…” Oriana seems to struggle to find the right words, which is an unusual occurrence for her.
“This is revolting! How did Daelor find this out?”
“He set up a prenatal scent marking analysis,” I explain, still astonished by Daelor’s efforts to assist me. “It verifies that the pup Cyrinne carries shares sibling markers with Alarion,”
“My word,” Oriana exhales, her shock apparent. “That’s… I can’t even express how wrong that is.”
“And it gets worse,” I add. “Daelor also possesses a recording of Cyrinne and Roderic together.”
Oriana’s eyes nearly bulge in disbelief. “A sex tape?!” she whispers, both scandalized and undeniably
intrigued.
“Not quite,” I correct her quickly, feeling my cheeks flush at the embarrassing memories of Daelor’s car. “It’s just a recording of them… together, and then talking afterward.”
Oriana leans in with heightened interest, her eyes shimmering with morbid curiosity. “I kind of want to
listen to it.”
