Rising of a feeble mate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

{Ryanna’s POV}"Pleasantries aside, I have come personally to invite you and our dear son, Casper, to dinner… Come tomorrow."‘WHATTTT?!And without even waiting for me to respond, he turned on his heel and was gone.The silence he left behind wasn’t awkward. I was stunned.Adolph muttered, "What just happened?"That invitation alone managed to jolt us more than anything that had happened in the past 2 days."Some kind of power play," Basten said, narrowing his eyes."He wants us off guard. We should expect more than food." Magnus added, voice low.But I barely heard them. I was still staring at the space Aurelius had stood, the sound of his voice still clawing at the back of my mind.Dinner. With him.‘Our son.’ Oh, how enraged I was. He wasn’t just inviting us to eat. He invited us to a performance. A staged peace. A meal with knives tucked under every plate.I looked at Casper. He was still watching where his father had gone, jaw tight. The same father he hadn’t known since he wa

{Ryanna’s POV}"He that buys land buys many stones,He that buys flesh buys many bones,He that buys eggs buys many shells,But he that buys good ale buys nothing else."Aurelius’s voice echoed in the hall sending a chill down my spine. His earnest eyes, fixed first on me, for a second longer than I was comfortable with. Then on Casper, but lighter, almost warm even.Casper held his stare for a moment before Aurelius dropped his goblet, the crystal clinking softly against the polished wood as he set it down.He resolved back into his chair, with comfort. As he gestured for us to eat. The air, already dense with the fragrance of roasting meat and flavored wine, became stale. Or maybe it was just me or my lungs narrowing.I stared at my goblet, then at the platters before us. I couldn’t scent any poison in them — not like it would be that easy — Neither did I sense any ill intent from Aurelius… But, I knew better than to trust instinct. I had my Council close if anything went wrong. I w

{Ryanna’s POV}I would come to remember this months later, after my exile. During a conversation about how I let myself do that, with Tyrion and Ophelia. Even the next morning when I left his chambers, I didn’t realize I had been drugged. But that was the past.And now, here in the present, the voice telling that same story wasn’t mine."...And she slipped over the table pouring wine everywhere, and despite the commotion she still left the room, tip-toeing like she was trying not to be heard," Aurelius said, grinning faintly at the memory. "You should have seen her, she hardly stepped inside the door before trying to meld in with the wall. So stiff. She looked like a wounded pup that night."His smile was full of charm, just like it was back then, but I know better now. And Casper does too, he won’t make the same mistake I did, believing the words of such a twisted man. The story he told poured out of his mouth like it was a funny old fable. Like I had been some blushing girl in a co

{Ryanna’s POV}Here’s the truth: an Alpha is not just the strongest. Not just the fastest. An Alpha is the embodiment of all that a werewolf could be. Power, fear, legacy. The blood of the gods, some say. And when you face an Alpha — truly stand against one — it earns you respect not because of your strength. But because they think you’re mad. Foolhardiness at its finest.And as Alphas came, Aurelius was as dangerous as they got.He wasn’t just power. He was dominant. An unrelenting force in the body of a man. His presence made lesser wolves kneel without command. Made warriors drop their eyes instinctively. And his cunning? Insidious. Unexpectedly everything started getting clear, not completely, but a little bit. The moon caught his hair, making it look like a blurred smudge of brown and silver. His eyes scorched like two pools of heated steel.Even in his presence… No, especially in his presence I dared to question; ‘What was he doing here?’Was this part of the plan? A second att

{Aurelius’s POV}The door banged tough enough behind me to clatter the vases mounted along the walls. My room was dim, except for the persistent silver of moonbeam slicing in through the thin window slits.The fireplace had a single burning flame, I didn't bother lighting the rest. The shadows suited my mood better.Damn her.Every step I took echoed with frustration. Ryanna. Ryanna. Ryanna. Her name tasted bitter on my tongue. She and those dregs she calls packmates. Scraping their way back into my lands, messing with plans that had taken years to set in motion. She should have died in the wilderness.I flung my coat across the chair as I poured myself a drink yet I barely tasted it. The wine which was spiced to perfection tasted no different from bland ale.“She thinks this is a rebellion,” I growled between grit teeth. “She thinks all this noise she’s making means anything.”Rohan didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He was where he always was when I stormed in like this — perched on