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last update Dernière mise à jour: 2026-01-26 19:04:27

Alora's POV:

I spent the entire day tossing and turning on my bed, restlessness coursing through me like a relentless tide.

Sleep eluded me, no matter how tightly I shut my eyes.

Whenever I tried to focus on something else, their faces would intrude on my thoughts, flashing vividly in my mind like a haunting reminder of my earlier actions.

Since the moment I had tried rejecting them earlier in the afternoon, my wolf had gone completely silent. Her withdrawal gnawed at me, leaving a hollow ache in my chest. Her silence was louder than any words she could have spoken, and it unsettled me deeply.

A soft knock on my door broke through my turbulent thoughts. I pulled the duvet down from my face just as the door creaked open.

Betty’s familiar figure stepped inside.

“Dinner is ready,” she announced, her tone gentle but firm.

I nodded in response, though my mind remained elsewhere.

Dinner in the Darkwood household was always at 10 p.m.

Finally, the day was drawing to a close. Perhaps a good night’s sleep would bring some much-needed clarity. I could only hope.

I dragged myself into the bathroom, hoping a soothing bath would wash away the heaviness clinging to me.

As the warm water cascaded down my skin, I let out a shaky breath.

The soft scent of lavender soap filled the air, calming my frayed nerves. Once I stepped out, I reached for the plush towel on the rack and wrapped it around my body, patting myself dry.

I opened my wardrobe, searching for something comfortable to wear for the night.

My fingers brushed against a silky nightgown—a deep crimson piece.

As I slipped it on, the cool fabric caressed my skin, its thin straps resting delicately on my shoulders. The plunging neckline revealed just a hint of cleavage, and the hem stopped mid-thigh, leaving my legs exposed.

I walked over to the mirror, my eyes scanning my reflection.

The gown hugged my body perfectly, outlining my slender waist and the soft swell of my hips.

For reasons I couldn’t quite understand, I reached for a tube of lip gloss on the vanity and applied a light coat, my lips gleaming under the soft light.

I even added a faint touch of blush to my cheeks.

As I finished patting my lips together, Betty’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“Can you tell me what’s going on here?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity and amusement.

I turned to face her, feigning ignorance. “What do you mean?” I asked, though my actions betrayed me.

Betty crossed her arms, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “You’re never one to care about your appearance, especially at this hour.”

Her words struck a chord, and I felt my cheeks flush.

I turned away, avoiding her gaze. That smile of hers, it always meant trouble.

“I’m going to have dinner,” I said quickly, brushing past her toward the door.

I wasn’t in the mood to entertain whatever she was implying.

“Alora,” she called after me, and I reluctantly turned to face her again. That mischievous smile hadn’t left her face.

“What?” I asked, attempting to maintain a serious expression.

“You’ve seen them, haven’t you?” she teased, her tone light but knowing.

“Seen who?” I replied, trying and failing to sound clueless.

“The Darkwood triplets,” she said, her smile widening.

I bit my lower lip, a nervous habit I couldn’t seem to break.

“Maybe,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I knew it,” she said triumphantly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You must be so excited.”

“I’m not,” I retorted, though the heat rising to my cheeks suggested otherwise.

“Of course you’re not,” she said with a smirk, walking over to the table.

She picked up a napkin and handed it to me. “But you should put that crush in the bag and trash it. It’s in the past now. This is the present. Remember who you’re married to. How ruthless he can be. Don’t let a simple crush be the death of you now.”

Her words stung, but they carried an undeniable truth.

I took the napkin from her.

“Better wipe those things off your face,” she added before turning on her heel and leaving the room.

I stared at the napkin in my hand, her words echoing in my mind.

What was I even doing?

What had come over me?

With a resigned sigh, I wiped the lip gloss and blush from my face before tossing the napkin into the trash.

When I reached the dining room, it was eerily empty. The silence was deafening, mirroring the emptiness I had felt throughout the day.

The table, however, was laden with an array of dishes. Silver trays revealed roasted chicken, baked potatoes, steamed vegetables, and a fragrant pot of beef stew. Freshly baked bread sat in a basket, its golden crust glistening under the warm light. A pitcher of red wine stood in the center, accompanied by crystal glasses.

I took a seat, my stomach growling in protest. I waited for a while, hoping they would show up, but the minutes dragged on, and the room remained empty.

Disappointment settled heavily in my chest. Giving up, I began eating, though my appetite was half-hearted. My thoughts were too scattered, too consumed by the faces that haunted me.

After finishing my meal, I returned to my room.

The day had drained me, yet sleep still felt like a distant dream.

I stared at the ceiling, their faces replaying in my mind like a broken record.

The gaze in their eyes when I rejected them—it was seared into my memory.

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