Chapter 96 Surveillance
Aelira’s POV
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“Ms. Sunmere, is everything alright?” Luna Malone inquires, her graceful features etched with concern.
I swiftly gather myself, forcing my expression to resemble something normal. My heart beats so loudly
that I’m certain she can hear it.
“Luna Malone, I sincerely apologize, but that bracelet holds immense significance for me; I must
locate it.” I hesitate before taking the plunge. “Would you permit me to view the surveillance video from the day of the territorial gathering?”
“Surveillance?” Luna Malone’s eyebrows raise in surprise at such a direct request.
I maintain her gaze, striving not to show my desperation. The silence between us stretches out endlessly. My palms grow sweaty, knowing this is my sole opportunity to uncover what transpired that
night.
After what feels like an eternity, Luna Malone presses her lips together and nods. “Very well, Ms.
Sunmere. Follow me.“.
A wave of relief washes over me, momentarily weakening my knees. “Thank you, Luna Malone.”
The refined pack matriarch guides me through the maze of the mansion. Each step draws me nearer to the truth–a truth that I both long for and dread. What if I unearth something horrifying? What if my
worst fears come to fruition?
We arrive at a small, dimly lit room filled with monitors. A security wolf acknowledges Luna Malone with a respectful nod before stepping aside.
“Please show Ms. Sunmere the footage from last month’s territorial gathering,” Luna Malone orders.
My fingers clench anxiously as the video begins to play. There I am, entering the grand hall in my emerald dress, appearing so innocent and oblivious.
The camera captures Roderic Riven’s icy glare directed at me from across the room. I observe him walking toward me, his expression contorted with disdain as he publicly scolds me. The recollection
makes my stomach churn.
My former self appears rattled, accepting a glass of wolf–whiskey from a waiter who passes by shortly after. I wince as I watch myself consume the drink, now almost certain it includes moonberry extract.
The effects manifest quickly. My movements become erratic, and my expression reflects confusion.
An unfamiliar waiter approaches, offering to assist me out of the hall.
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I find nothing. The camera does not track our exit beyond the main gathering area.
“What about different locations?” I ask with urgency, my voice escalating. “The corridor outside the hall and the guest lounge?”
Luna Malone offers an apologetic smile. “We lack surveillance in those areas, particularly in the private guest lounges.”
My heart sinks. Without this footage, how can I ever uncover the truth of what transpired? Who exploited me that evening? My hands shake with a mix of frustration and fear.
“Ms. Sunmere?” Luna Malone’s voice slices through my tumultuous thoughts. “Are you okay?”
I muster a smile that feels fragile on my lips. “I’m fine. Luna Malone, may I take a moment to visit the guest lounge?”
She hesitates for a moment, assessing my face with her amber eyes. “Certainly, I’ll escort you there.”
We traverse the mansion’s exquisite corridors in silence. With each stride, fragments of that night. begin to resurface in my mind–disconnected images that had previously eluded me. Sweat prickles my brow as the flashbacks flicker through my thoughts.
The guest lounge comes into view, its door slightly ajar. Upon entering, a rush of memories
overwhelms me, crashing in like waves of distressing clarity.
I remember the plush bed where I was lying. The heavy aroma of moonberry and wolf–whiskey hangs
thick in the air. The sensation of unfamiliar hands against my skin returns to me. My heart races
fiercely as the memories intensify.
I wander through the room in a stupor, feigning a search for my bracelet while genuinely trying to reconstruct what transpired. My fingers glide along the bed’s edge, triggering the recollection of being forcibly pushed down onto it.
The memories sharpen, rekindled by my presence in this space. I recall being pinned against my will,
heavy breaths warming my neck, and aggressive hands restraining my arms. My wolf cowers within at
the recollection.
An overpowering flashback strikes me so intensely that I nearly buckle–his scent, potent yet
completely alien. Not Alarion. Not anyone familiar.
My wolf whimpers nervously inside me as the chilling realization dawns. The male who was with me
that night was not Alarion. The scent feels wrong, the touch is foreign, and the strength is
overpowering.
The harsh truth hits me like a physical punch–the child I carry is not Alarion’s.
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I grasp the edge of a nearby table, my knuckles turning pale. Panic ensnares me as an avalanche of questions floods my mind. Who is the father? Was he someone Roderic Riven orchestrated to be present? A stranger picked to orchestrate this precise scenario?
My hand instinctively moves to shield my belly, protecting the innocent life developing within. My wolf, despite her anxiety, remains fiercely loyal to our pup. But my rational mind spirals with horrifying possibilities.
What if there exists a recording of the attack? What if Cyrinne or Roderic plans to release it once my mate bond is definitely severed? Such a scandal would ruin my reputation and could also endanger my unborn child. The very thought makes me feel nauseous.
The sharp sound of my mobile phone interrupts my spiral of anxiety, revealing Daelor’s name on the display. My hand trembles as I pick up the call.
“Hello?” I attempt to sound composed, but my voice betrays me, breaking slightly.
“Where are you?” His tone remains calm, though there’s an underlying worry. “Oriana mentioned you aren’t with her. Why did you tell a lie?”
My carefully maintained façade shatters in an instant. Tears begin to flow, cascading down my cheeks as sobs wrack my body. Words elude me, and breathing becomes a challenge.
“Aelira?” Daelor’s voice escalates in urgency. “What’s happening? Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”
I can’t find the words to convey the chaos inside me. The combination of shame and fear overwhelms, stifling any potential response. How could I disclose this to him? How could I reveal it to anyone?
“Come on. Tell me,” Daelor urges, his commanding Alpha presence somehow transcending the
distance of the phone. “Let me know where you are. I’ll come to you.”
“I miss my mom,” I manage to say amid tears. If only she were here. She would understand what steps to take. She would embrace me and assure me that everything would be alright, even if it wouldn’t.
I continue to weep, pouring out the feelings I’ve kept bottled up ever since I uncovered Cyrinne’s deceit,
learned of my brother’s treachery, and began to suspect the truth about my child. The tears keep coming, each sob tightening the ache in my chest.
After a few minutes, I notice the sounds of traffic in the background during the call. The realization.
pierces through my sorrow.
“Are you driving?” I ask, frantically wiping my face.
“Yes,” Daelor replies, “I’m trying to locate you. Are you feeling any better? What’s going on? Where are
you?”
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I scan the guest lounge, the site of my distress. Luna Malone has discreetly stepped outside to allow
me some privacy, but I know I can’t linger here much longer. This space has become stifling, the walls inching closer.
Though still engulfed in despair, I realize I must confront my reality. The child I carry–potentially not
Alarion’s, potentially conceived through betrayal and violence–symbolizes a ticking clock in my life.
Despite the growing bond I feel with this unborn being, my wolf instinctively protective and caring, I must face a hard truth: this child will enter a world fraught with stigma and uncertainty.
It will never be embraced by any pack; it will be forever marked by the circumstances of its conception.
The shame will haunt both of us eternally. It will be subject to unkind names and exclusion. What sort
of life would that entail?
As Lake Restaurant Estate becomes a blur through my tears, I make the excruciating choice–despite
my love for the tiny life within me, I must end the pregnancy.
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