Chapter 85 Meet Elder Quillon
Aelira’s POV
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Once Jennifer departs, I turn to Oriana, my eyes wide with concern. Something about what Jennifer
said feels off.
“Did you catch that?” I whisper. “About the bracelet? Daelor specifically asked Elowen for it to give to
me.”
Oriana nods, munching on another snack. “Why are you so shocked? It aligns perfectly with your
whole fake relationship situation, doesn’t it?”
I frown, recalling my time at the Briarhallow family estate. “Remember that suspicious ‘moonberry
wine‘ I mentioned? The one Elowen forced me to drink during my visit?”
“The special tea that’s supposed to work only with genuine affection?” Oriana’s eyes widen as she
gets it.
“Yeah. I’m beginning to wonder if Jennifer has some motive for trying to bring us together.”
Oriana tilts her head. “What would that motive be?”
I let out a sigh and sink further into my chair. “To undermine Daelor’s position in the pack, perhaps? An influential Alpha like him shouldn’t be associated with someone like me–pregnant, going through a
divorce, with a low–ranking bloodline.”
“That’s absurd,” Oriana scoffs. “You’re worth far more than any of those she–wolves they might be trying to pair him with.”
I shake my head, not convinced. “Within the werewolf pack hierarchy? No way. Just my background alone disqualifies me from being with an Alpha of his caliber.”
My hand naturally rests on my slightly rounded belly, where Alarion’s pup grows. This reality makes a genuine relationship with Daelor impossible, no matter Jennifer’s plans.
“Good thing it’s all just an act, right?” I say, attempting to reassure myself. “After this weekend, we’ll stage our ‘breakup,‘ and that will be that.”
“If you say so,” Oriana replies, her disbelief evident.
Before I can offer further commentary, the door opens, and Daelor enters, his commanding Alpha
presence instantly filling the room.
“I see my aunt found you,” he notes, locking his silver–gray eyes with mine.
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<Chapter 85 Meet Elder Quillon
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I nod, monitoring his expression closely. “Yes, she did. She brought up the bracelet your grandmother
gave me.”
“Ah.” A brief flicker of emotion crosses his face. “Jennifer has always been enthusiastic about pack
matters.”
Though he speaks kindly, I detect a chilly undercurrent. My instincts seem to be validated.
“Daelor,” I start cautiously, “Jennifer mentioned you specifically requested Elowen to give me that
bracelet. Is that-”
“True?” he interjects, catching me off guard. “Yes, I did.”
My heart leaps in my chest. “But why? I believed it was Elowen who intended to give it to me.”
He traverses the room with a graceful motion that belies his strong physique. “My grandmother holds
traditional values. The bracelet must originate from me to uphold the appearance of a serious
courtship.”
“Oh.” That one–word response feels insufficient, yet I struggle to find anything more fitting to say.
“It’s crucial for her to believe our relationship is authentic,” Daelor continues, his tone measured and calm. “Her approval quells much of the dissent within the pack.”
I nod, feeling foolish for having assumed there might be something deeper involved. Naturally, he sought the bracelet–it was merely part of the facade. A convincing performance for the sake of his
family.
“I see,” I say, feeling embarrassed by my previous thoughts.
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“The main event will commence soon,” Daelor announces, extending his hand toward me. “Would you
care to join me?”
I look at Oriana, then back at Daelor. After realizing Jennifer’s potential motives, I hesitate to give the impression that we are growing closer.
“I think I’ll remain here a bit longer with Oriana,” I respond cautiously. “Perhaps I’ll join your
later?”
A flicker shines in his eyes, though his demeanor stays neutral. “As you wish. George will assist you
with anything you require.”
With that, he turns and exits, his broad shoulders fading through the doorway.
“Well, that was uncomfortable,” Oriana remarks.
I shoot her a glance. “It wasn’t uncomfortable. He understands the arrangement we’ve made.”
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“If you say so,” she replies, giving me a similar skeptical look. “But it seems to me that you both might be taking this pretend relationship a tad too seriously.”
I stand up abruptly. “Let’s go see what’s happening out there.”
As we step out of the VIP room, the stark difference between its serene opulence and the lively event space is striking. Numerous werewolves in formal attire mingle throughout the spacious hall, their interactions creating a continuous murmur of voices.
George Leach, Daelor’s assistant, appears at my side almost immediately. “Ms. Sunmere, may I escort you somewhere?”
“No, thank you,” I respond politely. “Oriana and I just want to explore a bit.”
He nods respectfully and steps back, but I notice he stays within view.
We haven’t walked far when I spot Daelor across the room, encircled by a group of prominent wolves. The instant my gaze meets his silver–gray eyes, it’s clear he has sensed my arrival from the moment I stepped in.
With a subtle wave, he motions for me to come over.
“Great,” I mutter quietly to myself. “Now what?”
Oriana nudges me forward playfully. “Go to your Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll just chat with these affluent pack investors by myself.”
Before I can object, she slips away, leaving me to respond to Daelor’s call solo.
I hesitate, noticing Jennifer and Mary Briarhallow watching intently from a short distance. Their stares feel scrutinizing, assessing my every move. With a resigned sigh, I walk toward Daelor.
The crowd around him parts as I approach, subtly recognizing my connection to the formidable Alpha. Several werewolves cast curious glances at my slightly rounded belly, and I resist the urge to shield it with my hands.
“What are you doing?” I whisper when I reach Daelor’s side.
Instead of providing an answer, he seamlessly wraps an arm around my waist, bringing me close enough for our scents to intertwine. The action feels possessive, clearly signaling that I belong to him in the eyes of everyone around.
“Aelira,” he says warmly, “I’d like you to meet Elder Quillon.”
The older gentleman standing before us possesses sharp, discerning eyes that register everything around him. The aroma of his wolf carries the unmistakable hints of maturity and insight.
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“This is the mate I’ve chosen,” Daelor continues, his voice projecting enough to reach the ears of those
nearby.
Elder Quillon raises his bushy eyebrows in surprise. “Oh, really?” he responds, his tone rugged yet friendly. “Just days ago, your father told me you were still single and might be interested in getting to know my granddaughter.”
A wave of murmurs ripples through the nearby werewolves. I can feel my cheeks flushing under their watchful eyes.
Daelor chuckles effortlessly. “My father isn’t quite in sync with my personal life at the moment,” he remarks, his thumb drawing small, distracting circles on my waist. “Aelira and I have been an item for quite a while.”
Elder Quillon appears skeptical as he shifts his gaze between Daelor and me. “Is that so?”
“Definitely,” Daelor insists, pulling me even nearer.
I sense the warmth of his body through my dress, my wolf instinctively reacting to his closeness despite my mental hesitations.
“Forgive my skepticism,” Elder Quillon says, a faint smile creeping onto his face, “but this is the first
we’ve heard of this arrangement in our circles.”
Daelor’s demeanor stays calm, though I notice his muscles tense slightly beneath my hand.
“We’ve kept it under wraps,” he replies smoothly. “You know how werewolf rumors can complicate
things.”
Elder Quillon nods, although his expression hints at lingering doubt. “Naturally.”
Daelor glances down at me, a playful sparkle lighting up his silver–gray eyes. “If you truly doubt me,” he says to Elder Quillon while still holding my gaze, “should I give her a kiss now?”
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