Chapter 130 130
Aurélie POV
“Alpha Aurélie!”
I keep my groan firmly internal as his voice cuts in just as I’m wedged between conversations.
“Alpha Jérôme safe travels,” I reply smoothly, already shifting my focus. I gently shoo the children toward Fabrice, who is deep in conversation with Simon, Élodie, and Florence. He catches my intent immediately, extending his hand for Delphine, while Dominique steps neatly to his other side, tucked beneath Fabrice’s protective arm.
There had been so many unfamiliar faces this weekend, and the children had handled it exceptionally well. They’d never been exposed to an event like this before certainly not off pack grounds.
“I must say,” Jérôme continues, undeterred, “I’m quite intrigued by this new truce between Darkvale and the Bloodnight pack.”
“Oh?” At least I’d managed to spare the children from whatever long-winded criticism he was winding up for.
“Well, if you and Alpha Damien are now conspiring together, there can hardly be an unbiased outcome anymore, can there?” He tilts his head slightly. “I assumed you formed the Darkvale alliance as an alternative something for packs dissatisfied with the long-established Bloodnight alliance. But if both alliances are now moving toward the same objective… what exactly is the point of Darkvale? Surely it’s rendered itself redundant.”
He purses his lips as he finishes, his disapproval poorly masked beneath his measured tone.
What a prick.
“I can assure you, Alpha Jérôme,” I say evenly, “that while a short-term truce has occurred, it is by no means permanent. Any complications will be addressed as they arise. I take my role as head of the Darkvale alliance very seriously, and I would never act in a way that compromises or disrespects the packs under my leadership.”
“That’s all very well, bu—”
“Alpha Jérôme,” I cut in, my voice sharpening just slightly, “with all due respectyou are not a member of the Darkvale alliance. As such, you have no credible reason to question my integrity.”
I allow my aura to roll outward, deliberate and controlled, making it unmistakably clear who stands as the superior alpha here.
He stiffens clearly not expecting it. A sexist pig, through and through. He’d underestimated the strength of a she-wolf.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, dear,” he says quickly once I retract my aura.
The word dear lands wrong slick with condescension, nothing like the warmth Quentin or Maurice use when they say it.
“You haven’t,” I reply sweetly, my smile perfectly composed.
He’s irritated me, sent a shiver crawling along my lower spine, but I won’t grant him the satisfaction of knowing it.
I rejoin Fabrice and the children, though Jérôme’s words linger. His delivery was flawed offensive even but he wasn’t entirely wrong. If Damien and I became a couple, what would that mean for the alliances? Darkvale had been created as a counterpoint to Bloodnight. A promise of something different. That distinction was how Fabrice and I had convinced packs to transfer because they wanted change.
Soon, the courtyard empties. All the guests depart except Alpha Jérôme and Clémence.
They linger near Damien and Lucas. Talking might be generous. Lucas is doing most of the work, while Damien stands back, watching me from behind the shield of his sunglasses.
Goddess he looks unfairly good in sunglasses.
A slow smirk curves his lips, and heated tingles coil low in my core. I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head, but my body betrays me anyway.
“Oh, Damien…” Clémence reaches up and grabs his arm, fingers pressing into a bicep that strains against his tight black T-shirt. “It’s been so lovely seeing you again!”
Again?
I bite down hard on my tongue to stop a growl from escaping as her hand lingers.
Damien goes still tense, coiled. Then he steps out of her reach, removing his sunglasses as he does. The death stare he levels at her is more than enough to settle my rising insecurities for now.
His aura floods outward, dark and oppressive even beneath the open sky. It feels as though the storm in his eyes has bled into the clouds above, drawing a brewing front over the Saint Wolf alpha house.
Clémence and Jérôme both retreat a step. Lucas merely crosses his arms, entirely unfazed long accustomed to the monstrous presence of the Alpha King.
“I made it clear not to touch me,” Damien growls.
Clémence whimpers under the sheer force of his threatening aura.
“Now leave,” he adds coldly, “before you make another spectacle of yourself.”
Without another glance, he turns sharply and strides back into the alpha house.
Clémence’s gaze snaps to mine venomous, seething.
If looks could kill…
I almost smile.
An open rejection like that stings deeply. Maybe now she’ll finally keep her claws off him.
One can hope.