Chapter 95 Look for the Truth
Aelira’s POV
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“What’s your suggestion?” I inquire of Daelor, genuinely curious about how he might help with my unexpected job loss.
His silver–gray eyes light up with a hint of enthusiasm as he leans against the kitchen counter. “Some time ago, I registered a herbal remedy studio during my downtime, but I’ve yet to find someone suitable to help manage it. How about keeping an eye on it for me?”
“What?” I blink in surprise, taken aback by his unexpected proposition.
“This studio is located right next to my territory’s security office,” Daelor explains, speaking casually as if he isn’t offering me a potential lifeline. “It was vacant before, so I had George Leach register the herbal remedy studio.”
His gaze sparkles with an enthusiastic intensity that stirs my wolf pleasantly beneath my skin.
“What do you think? When I find the time, I’ll take you there to check it out.”
I stand there momentarily, taken aback, absorbing his words. This opportunity could address my
current employment dilemma and provide me with direction as I ponder my next moves.
“Alright,” I respond with a nod, truly appreciative of his offer. The idea of engaging in something meaningful–and being able to assist Daelor in return–boosts my spirits a little.
After Daelor helps me transport my things back to my apartment, he leaves me to get settled. I sink onto my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling while my mind races with the events of the day.
Cyrinne Wynthor’s threats from the corridor whisper poisonously in my ears. “I wonder how the great Alpha King would react if he knew the truth about his beloved Aelira. Do you think he’d still want you
after that?”
T
Even with Daelor’s promise to deal with Cyrinne, I feel a suffocating weight, as though invisible flames are draining the oxygen from the air around me. What “truth” is Cyrinne alluding to? What knowledge could she possibly possess that could sway Daelor against me?
Suddenly, an understanding dawns on me, and I quickly sit upright.
5
The insults Cyrinne flung at me were not random. “Sleeping with a pack traitor” and hints about being
“mated with more than just Alarion”
These are not mere jibes.
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If Cyrinne is making such pointed allegations, it suggests she must believe she has proof. But proof of
what?
My thoughts dart back to the territorial gathering from over a month ago. Roderic Riven had confronted me aggressively just before I accepted that ill–fated drink of wolf–whiskey mixed with
moonberry extract.
A chilling realization washes over me. What if Roderic had tampered with my drink? Was that entire
ordeal part of a larger scheme?
A cold sweat breaks out on my back as the pieces begin to fit together. Cyrinne’s intricate plot to get close to my brother and mother before her overseas trip, her timing with the pregnancy, and her
intention for Alarion to claim the child.
Such a complex plan couldn’t have been solely hers. Roderic Riven must have played a significant role!
I spring to my feet, unable to remain calm. I pace nervously in my room, my wolf whimpering anxiously
within me.
Cyrinne and Roderic would not have relied entirely on manipulating my mother–too many
uncertainties existed, too many ways for things to unravel. They required another target, a more
straightforward method to ensure I would be removed from the equation.
Me.
They used me as a pawn.
The most frightening aspect is that I had been thoroughly affected by the moonberry extract that
night. I had no control over my actions, and my recollections are fragmented at best.
I can’t even be certain if the male I was with was truly Alarion. At the time, he felt different–more
potent yet gentler, an insatiable Alpha unlike the Alarion I know. Could he have been someone entirely
different?
For several moments, I struggle to catch my breath, the terrifying possibilities overwhelming me. If
that night wasn’t Alarion, who could it have been? Someone sent by Roderic? And even worse–had
they recorded any photos or videos to use against me in the future?
My claws begin to extend instinctively, digging painfully into my palms without my awareness. The
sharp sensation jolts me back to the present.
No! I cannot remain here, passively waiting for disaster to unfold. If my instincts are right, I must
prepare myself before Roderic and Cyrinne unveil whatever “evidence” they possess. Otherwise, once it
is revealed, I will be utterly ruined.
T
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The wave of fear propels me into action. I snatch my mobile phone and handbag before making my way to the door. I need answers immediately.
As I step into the hallway, the door opposite mine swings open..
“Where are you headed?” Daelor inquires, concern furrowing his brow. “Are you feeling unwell? You don’t seem alright.”
I touch my face self–consciously, realizing I must present a distressed appearance.
“It’s nothing,” I fib, “I just washed my face, and the cold water made my skin feel a bit too chilled.”
Daelor studies me for a moment but refrains from pressing on. “Where are you off to? Let me
accompany you.”
“No,” I respond hastily, waving my hand dismissively. “Oriana and I are supposed to go shopping.”
I despise deceiving him, but I must handle this on my own. Involving Daelor without solid evidence
would only complicate matters further.
“It’s nice to go out and unwind,” he remarks, his silver–gray eyes scrutinizing me intently. “Have fun
then.”
We take the elevator down together. After witnessing him drive off, I quickly slip into my car and head
directly to the suburbs, making my way to Lake Restaurant Estate, where the territorial gathering has
occurred.
As I near, the elegant European–style mansion comes into view. An iron gate stands as a barrier, with a group of security wolves patrolling the entrance. They approach as I pull up.
“Hello, I’d like to see Alpha Malone,” I say, striving to exude confidence despite my racing heartbeat.
“Please provide your name, and I’ll report it,” one of the guards responds professionally.
I hesitate, biting my lip. With everyone now aware that Alarion and I are severing our mate bond, the name “Aelira Sunmere” may not carry the same weight as it once did. Alpha Malone might deny my request. But fabricating an identity would only complicate things further.
“Aelira Sunmere,” I finally concede, albeit reluctantly.
“Ms. Sunmere, please hold on. I’ll notify him right away.
וד
As the security wolf disappears through the gate, I stand anxiously, mentally preparing my arguments
for why Alpha Malone should agree to see me. To my surprise, the guard returns promptly.
“Ms. Sunmere, you are welcome to come in; Luna Malone is expecting you.”
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“Oh? Thanks!” I follow the security wolf across the manicured grounds to the mansion’s main living
room.
A graceful she–wolf approaches as I enter, her warm smile catching me off guard. “Ms. Sunmere, how lovely to see a rare visitor.”
“Luna Malone, I apologize for intruding,” I say, genuinely regretful for my
sudden appearance.
“Ms. Sunmere, you are most welcome. Please, take a seat and let’s have a discussion.”
I hadn’t anticipated such a friendly reception from Alpha Malone’s mate. Her kindness unsettles me, though my wolf remains surprisingly calm in her presence.
“I am curious about what brings Ms. Sunmere here today,” Luna Malone inquires, gesturing for me to
sit on an elegant velvet sofa.
“Well,” I start, launching into my flimsy rationale. “I brought a silver moonstone bracelet when I
attended the territorial gathering last month, but I’ve realized I can’t find it lately. I believe it might have
been lost here…”
My ears burn with embarrassment as I speak. The excuse I offer is flimsy, yet I must find the
surveillance footage from that day to uncover who entered the guest room where I was taken.
Luna Malone appears momentarily taken aback before her expression softens. “I apologize. I
instructed the aides to tidy up after the gathering, but we didn’t come across any bracelets.”
“Could I meet your aides here?” I inquire, making an effort to mask my eagerness.
“Absolutely,” Luna Malone replies with a smile, promptly directing those nearby.
Before long, a line of aides enters the room. I scrutinize each individual, searching for the one who
assisted me that night. My distress grows as I fail to recognize any of them.
“Are all the aides from the gathering that day present?” I ask, struggling to maintain a calm tone. “Did
no one request time off or resign?”
“Rest assured, Ms. Sunmere. They are all here,” Luna Malone reassures me.
A tightness grips my heart. If these aides are indeed the regular staff who took care of me that day,
who took care of me that day? Who was the enigmatic aide who led me to the guest room and
remained with me?
A shiver runs down my spine as another piece of the puzzle clicks into place. The “aide” must have been planted by Roderic or Cyrinne; they were likely an outsider, specifically designated to ensure their
scheme succeeded.
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What is happening? Who sent the aide who looked after me that day?
