Chapter 4

Elena

The call had interrupted my conversation with Mara who seemed to have something she wants to ask.

“Elena,” a familiar, aged voice said the moment I answered. “Come to the mansion tonight. We’re having dinner.”

I paused. My fingers tightened instinctively.

“Grandpa Rowan,” I replied carefully. “I—”

“No excuses,” he cut in, though his tone was warm. “You’re still part of this family. Come early.”

Before I could open my mouth for further refusal, the line had already went dead as if he knows that I would refuse with his invitation.

I mean, why would I, the Luna his grandson had severed his ties with, would further go back to their residence? For what? For further humiliation?

However, knowing Grandpa, I couldn’t refuse his invitation. He’s the stubborn type where he won’t stop until he would get what he wants and if I won’t go, he would pester me or even send his men to fetch me right away.

I sighed helplessly as I went directly to my room for a quick change, disregarding Mara’s frown. Afterwards, I took my purse and went down.

“Where are you going?” she asked, he brows furrowed while her mouth were chewing the noddles while her gaze never left me.

I sighed helplessly as I put my heels on. “Grandpa wants me to go back to his residence.”

“What for?” she frowned. “Didn’t the Alpha of the Ashbourne had announced the dissolution of your bond?”

I shrugged my shoulder. “I don’t know either.”

Before she could further think about it, I stood up, patting her head. “I’ll get going.”

~

The Ashbourne estate hasn’t changed.

Same iron gates. Same towering pines lining the driveway. Same oppressive silence that pressed down on my chest the moment the car passed the boundary stones.

It was still the same in my memory—after all, it hasn’t been weeks ever since grandma had died and Alaric had announced to everyone the dissolution of our bond while bringing a woman with him—parading her and as if he was telling everyone that she’s more important than the mate he has.

I shook my head, forcing myself to stop thinking about it—forcing those thoughts to hide that even I, couldn’t access to those thoughts.

I stepped out of the car just as the driver’s seat opened. A servant bowed stiffly, eyes flicking to my face before dropping quickly, as if startled.

“Luna Ashbourne,” she greeted.

I paused.

Then corrected calmly, “Elena Frost.”

Her lips parted slightly. “Y—yes. Miss Frost.”

I nodded my head in satisfaction and walked inside despite the turmoil in my chest.

The familiar scent of aged wood, incense, and Alpha territory wrapped around me. It used to suffocate me but tonight, it feels different. Maybe it was because I no longer part of this place the moment Alaric had dissolve our bond that made the intimidation of this place…lessened a bit.

And the moment I entered the main hall, my eyes fell to the wolf that had called me earlier and invited me here.

Rowan Ashbourne.

The Alpha’s grandfather.

The elder Alpha sar upright in his chair, his silver hair neatly combed, eyes keen despite his age. When he saw me, something like relief crossed his stern features.

“You’re here, Luna,” he said.

“You summoned me,” I replied respectfully as I took the seat across from him just as the sound of footsteps echoed behind me.

I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

Alpha Alaric Asbourne entered the hall that made the air shifted instantly.

My heartbeat stuttered, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my ribs. He wore a dark shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, as if he’d come straight from a meeting. His eyes landed on me—and stayed there a second too long.

Something unreadable flickered across his face then he looked away.

“Grandfather,” he said.

Rowan studied him carefully. “You’re late.”

“I was delayed.”

By what? His mistress?

Oh, not mistress anymore. His new Luna.

Rowan clicked his tongue. “Sit.”

Alaric obeyed, taking the seat beside me.

Too close.

Heat radiated from him, familiar and unfamiliar at all once. I hate how my senses betrayed me, tracking every shift of his posture, every controlled breath.

Rowan cleared his throat. “I received a gift today.”

His words snapped me from my thoughts as my gaze landed onto the omega who had stepped forward, presenting a carved wooden box etched with lunar symbols that made my brows raised.

“It’s from the Elder of the North Ridge Pack,” he continued before we could raise questions. “A fertility charm that had been blessed by their Moon Priestess. I assured you that it’s effective.”

A what?

Fertility charm?

My fingers tightened in my lap, the same as I could feel him stiffened.

“This is unnecessary,” I heard him said coolly and I couldn’t help but nod my head in agreement.

However, Rowan ignored him. “The bloodline cannot remain unstable.”

I inhaled slowly.

“Grandfather,” I said carefully. “Alaric and I are no longer—”

Rowan suddenly coughed that his face turned red.

The sound echoed through the all, sharp, and alarming. I was on my feet instantly, moving to his side.

“Get water,” I ordered to the omegas standby.

They hurriedly rushed forward but Rowan waved them away weakly.

Seeing that his face had returned its color, I breathe a sigh in relief and was about to went back to my seat when he gripped my wrist.

“Stay,” he rasped.

Before I could ask him what he meant by that, he leaned back, exhaustion etched into his face as his gaze landed on us.

“Tonight,” he said firmly, “you will stay.”

Alari frowned. “Grandfather—”

“You will both stay,” Rowan snapped. “In the east wing together and test whether the gift I received really works.”

I paused.

Before I could retort, Alaric beats me to it.

“That’s inappropriate,” he said, his jaw tightened.

Rowan’s gaze sharpened. “What’s inappropriate is severing your bond with your Luna at your grandmother’s funeral.”

Seeing that Alaric went silent, Rowan turned to me.

“Elena, I won’t force you to reconcile. But tonight, I want you both to remain under this roof whether you like it or not.”

I hesitated.

When I looked at his eyes, I let out a heavy sigh before nodding my head. “Very well.”

Patriarch Rowan was more stubborn than Alaric.

I ignored Alaric’s gaze, feigning ignorance and monitored Grandpa’s well-being especially that despite he had faked his cough earlier, the exhaustion in his eyes couldn’t be faked which made me worry.

“Let’s go to the kitchen and eat. I’m hungry,” he said, waving his hands as the servants followed him, ready to assist if something goes wrong.

In the end, both Alaric and I were currently in the kitchen, same with grandfather who were watching every of our movements.

I ate little, while Alaric barely touched his food.

I could hear Grandpa sighed as he clapped his hands once.

“Elena,” he said, “would you prepare the soup?”

My head lifted. “Soup?”

“The pigeon soup,” he said. “The one you used to make.”

My chest tightened.

“Yes,” I answered.

In the kitchen, I worked automatically—washing, chopping, simmering. The rhythm steadied my breathing, and I was too focused on preparing the food to notice that someone had already appeared behind my back.

After I finished preparing the soup and was about to bring it to grandpa, when a towering figure suddenly appeared behind me, souping the soup using the spoon as I watched him bring it to his mouth and taste it.

I nearly dropped the soup, if it weren’t for him who hurriedly put his hand below my hand to support the bowl of soup.

“So, this is how you made it,” he said quietly. “I remembered this taste—the same scent of the lunchbox I used to receive at the company every day.”

He paused; his eyes gaze fell on me. “You sent it?”

How long had he been watching me prepare the soup?

Was he here all the time? I didn’t even scent him nor feel his presence.

And what did he say?

Did he eat what I brought to him back then? Otherwise, he won’t say those words—the words that made my heart falter. The words that I was eager to hear back then.

Is he playing with me? I could clearly remember how he tossed the food I brought to him on the trashcan.

Every. Single. Day.

The hammering sensation of my heart instantly died down as soon as I remembered the past—especially when he had humiliated me in front of everyone and announced the dissolution of our bond at grandma’s funeral while bringing his mistress.

“It didn’t matter,” I said coldly, taking the bowl from his hand as I sat back down, unbothered—while the silence between us grew sharp enough to cut.