Chapter 32

Elara

Alaric was between us before I even realized what was happening, his broad shoulders blocking out Grace’s furious form like a wall of stone.

“That’s enough, Mother,” he said, his voice low and cold as ice.

Grace immediately pulled her leg away, planting it firmly on the floor before it could connect with her son’s back. She stepped back, her face darkening.

“Alaric, this is none of your concern,” she ground out through her teeth. “I am simply teaching her what it means to be a Luna—something she desperately needs to learn if she is to be anything at all like Sarah—”

“I said enough!” Alaric barked. His face blackened at that name—Sarah. I recognized her as his late wife, his previous Luna, and the mention of her made my heart pound.

Was that what this was about, I wondered? Was Grace giving me a particularly hard time because she thought I couldn’t live up to Alaric’s late wife’s image?

Without giving his mother so much as another glance, Alaric gripped me by both of my arms and helped me to my feet. I staggered as I stood, stumbling slightly against his sturdy frame.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, holding me upright.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, even though the tremble in my voice betrayed me. My shoulder throbbed where I had hit it on the corner of the table, and I was certain it would leave a bruise. But I willed my face into impassiveness, because if there was one thing I had learned from all my years as an Omega, it was best not to let the higher classes see the toll their mistreatment took on me.

Alaric straightened, his grip on me lingering for a moment longer as his eyes scanned me before he released me and turned fully to face his mother again.

“If this is what your ‘teaching’ looks like, it stops now,” he said firmly. “I won’t allow it—not in my house, and especially not around my daughters.”

I swallowed hard, pulling my shoulders back and lifting my chin. So that was what this was about: protecting the girls from seeing this kind of abuse. Alaric hadn’t stepped in for my sake, not really.

But I couldn’t blame him. Zoe and Ella were the most important things in both of our lives, and they’d never get over it if they saw Grace’s actions.

Grace’s lips pressed into a thin line, her nostrils flaring angrily. “Don’t be ridiculous. These girls need discipline, just as you did. I disciplined you, and you turned out fine, didn’t you?”

“Fine?” His laugh was short and humorless. “Is that what you think? That I turned out fine because of you? My childhood was joyless, Mother. Cold and strict. There wasn’t a single moment of warmth, love, or kindness unless it served your own purposes. And now you want to impose that same misery on Zoe and Ella?”

Grace’s face twitched ever so slightly, but she quickly masked her surprise with indignant outrage.

“I raised you to uphold the Donovan legacy,” she snapped. “Everything I did was to prepare you for your role as Alpha. Without my strict upbringing, you wouldn’t be the man you are today.”

“You’re right,” Alaric said flatly, his voice devoid of so much as a hint of emotion. “I wouldn’t.”

Her face went scarlet, the fury radiating off of her body in hot waves. For a moment, I thought she might slap Alaric—her hand twitched as if the impulse was there—but she must have realized that even she wouldn’t recover from striking her son, the Alpha.

“You’re making a mistake,” she hissed instead. “One you will regret forever. Mark my words, Alaric—this little farce of a marriage has no future. None.”

And with that, she whirled on her heel and stormed out, her heels clicking rapidly against the marble floors. The door slammed shut behind her, the sound so loud that it reverberated through the room.

Eerie silence followed once she was gone. I stayed where I was, still clutching my arm, unsure if I should say something or simply vanish from the room.

Alaric didn’t look at me right away. His hands rested on his hips as he exhaled slowly, his head tilting toward the ceiling. He shut his eyes for a moment as if trying to calm himself.

Finally, he shifted, turning to face me again. As he turned, his gaze fell to the floor, and his brows furrowed slightly as he picked up something small and crushed—the wilted remains of the flower ring Zoe and Ella had made me yesterday.

“You kept this?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost puzzled. He turned it over in his hands, as if trying to understand why I had bothered to hold on to something so fragile and temporary.

I swallowed, my throat tight. “I forgot I was still wearing it,” I admitted, glancing away. “But yes. I kept it. It… it was sweet of them to make those for us.”

Alaric’s gaze lingered on the crushed stems for a moment longer before he looked at me. There was something unreadable in his expression, a flicker of surprise mixed with something softer.

“If you wanted an engagement ring so badly,” he said, his tone turning neutral again, “I could have bought you a proper one. It would’ve been better for appearances anyway. I’m surprised I didn’t even consider it.”

The thought of wearing a real engagement ring for the second time in my life made my face heat unexpectedly, but I immediately schooled my expression.

“It’s not about having a ring,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I don’t need a real one. What mattered was the sentiment behind it. The girls were so proud to make it for me. That’s what made it special.”

For a moment, Alaric’s expression softened in a way I wasn’t used to seeing—a subtle shift, barely noticeable, but it sent warmth curling in my chest despite myself. His fingers closed around the remnants of the ring, and he straightened, slipping it into his pocket as if it deserved to be saved, even in its broken state.

“Well. You should rest today,” he said simply, stepping back. “You’ve had enough to deal with already.”

“I—” The words caught in my throat as he then reached into his pocket and held out an envelope to me. “What’s this?”

“Something you might be interested in,” he said. “We’ll talk later. I have pressing work to attend to.” And with that, he turned and left the room, leaving me standing there with the envelope clutching in my hands.

Once he was gone, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding and looked down at the envelope. The back was embossed with elegant lettering that read “SMSO”, whatever that meant. Frowning, I slipped my finger under the flap, breaking the red seal, and opened it.

When I pulled the white card out of the envelope and flipped it open, my eyebrows shot up.

It was an invitation to a charity auction, hosted by the Single Mothers’ Support Organization.

And it had not only my name on it, but also Zoe’s, Ella’s, and even Alaric’s.

“To the Donovan family,” it read, “thank you for your sizable donation to our organization. We are looking forward to seeing you at the annual auction.”

I could hardly believe what I was reading. Alaric, the cold and detached Alpha, had donated money to an organization for single mothers?