Chapter 81

Almara

I couldn’t believe that it was finally time for the exhibition. It had been one of the hardest things I had ever done and now it was here. Butterflies erupted in my stomach as we got ready to open the doors.

Noah was a steady presence on one side and Arthur was my rock on the other. For once, the two of them were getting along. Maybe Arthur had finally seen that Noah was nothing more than a friend, no matter what happened in the past.

Either way, I was happy that they weren’t adding onto my stress. Molly gave the go ahead and the doors opened. Guests flooded in and I greeted every single one with a smile on my face. My cheeks were hurting, but I didn’t care.

The grandeur of the exhibition hall hung heavy in the air, a symphony of colors and textures that danced upon the walls. Guests mingled, their laughter and whispers creating a lively backdrop to the masterpiece-filled room.

As I stood among the throngs of admirers, my gaze was fixed on the canvas before me, entranced by the strokes of vivid emotion that seemed to leap from the frame. It was the portrait of me that Noah had done at the last minute.

Arthur came back to my side, two drinks in his hand. He gestured to the canvas. “I have to admit, Cunningham really outdid himself. He perfectly captured your beauty. I’m going to purchase it from him. Or steal it. Either way, it belongs in our home.”

“He made me too beautiful. I don’t really look like that,” I protested, eying the extra drink. I didn’t want to risk getting drunk here so I wasn’t sure why he had brought it.

“Nonsense, it’s the spitting image of you,” Arthur argued and then noticed where I was looking. He gave me a sheepish smile before handing it to me. “This is for Cunningham. I want it to be a peace offering, but I’m too embarrassed to give it to him. Would you do it for me?”

I gave him a bright smile. He had no idea how happy he had just made me. “Of course! I’ll go give it to him right now!”

I took off, searching for Noah in the crowds. I finally found him, surrounded by admirers. They were hurtling questions at him from left and right. He looked positively overwhelmed. I kind of felt sorry for him.

“Almara!” He shouted my name and broke through the crowd, taking the glass I offered and downing it before I could mention that it was from Arthur. He took a steadying breath, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“This is why I don’t do exhibitions this often. I hate being the center of attention,” Noah complained and I patted his arm in sympathy. I knew exactly how he felt.

Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine, shattering the tranquility of the moment. I turned, my eyes widening in disbelief. There, amidst the crowd, stood Robert. What was he doing here? This wasn’t his usual scene.

His piercing eyes met mine, and a shiver of foreboding settled deep within me. This unexpected arrival was not just a coincidence. I knew that look he was giving me. Whatever he was here for, it wasn’t going to be good.

In the midst of the vibrant gallery, Robert's voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade. "Arthur!" he bellowed, the resonance reverberating through the hall, silencing the room. The very name seemed to hang there, charged with some kind of history, dripping with animosity.

I watched, breathless, as Robert's gaze bore into Arthur's, an unspoken challenge hanging between them. I suddenly realized what Robert was about to say and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.

“Arthur Covington, I challenge you to a duel to the death. Right here. Right now,” Robert yelled and gasps rose up from the crowd. I covered my mouth with my hand. How was this happening right now?

Arthur cracked his neck, loosening his shoulders as he stalked toward Robert. “I accept your challenge. If you’re nice, I’ll make your death swift.”

Robert growled in response and Arthur smiled. I could tell from the look on his face that he was going to enjoy it. Of course he was. He probably thought he was avenging me in some weird and twisted alpha way.

As they moved to the center of the gallery, the onlookers formed a wide circle, their faces a medley of curiosity and trepidation. My heart pounded, a drumbeat of fear echoing in my chest. This was not a contest of brush and canvas, but a clash of wills, a test of strength and skill.

The challenge began, a dance of fists and fury. The sound of flesh striking flesh reverberated throughout the gallery. Unexpectedly, Robert and Arthur seemed evenly matched. That was my first clue that something was wrong.

Something was amiss. Arthur, usually swift and sure, seemed burdened, his movements labored, as if carrying a weight unknown to any but him. I doubt anyone but the two of us would notice.

My fingers gripped the folds of my dress, the fabric crinkling beneath my touch. My voice, a mere whisper, begged the Moon Goddess for his safety. The exhibition, once a celebration of Noah’s artistry, now bore witness to Arthur’s struggle for survival.

Time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into eternity. With each passing moment, Robert's efforts grew more desperate, his strikes wild and uncoordinated. It was evident that Arthur, despite his apparent sluggishness, held the upper hand. The duel challenge nearing its inevitable conclusion.

As the final blow landed, Robert staggered back, his face dripping with sweat. He fell to his knees, defeated and vulnerable, the weight of his actions etched across his face. I watched, my heart heavy with a mixture of relief and sorrow.

Rushing to Arthur's side, I pleaded with him to show mercy, to spare Robert. As foolish as this had been, he didn’t actually deserve to die. I didn’t want to be that kind of leader. Besides, I didn’t really think Robert was an actual threat.

. The room held its breath, suspended in the delicate balance between life and death. And then, amidst the hushed stillness, Robert's voice rose, a tremor of vulnerability weaving through the words.

"I’m your half-brother," he confessed, the revelation hanging in the air like a fragile thread. The room seemed to exhale, a collective gasp echoing off the walls. The revelation hung in the air, a truth long buried, now unearthed.

The weight of Robert's words settled upon us and Arthur's face contorted with disbelief, his eyes searching Robert's for any sign of familiarity. There must have been something that he saw because Arthur’s face shut down, his alpha mask firmly in place.

“If you are lying about this, not even Almara will be able to save you from my wrath. Do you understand?”

Robert nodded, his face downcast. I wasn’t surprised by how quickly he had folded. If there was one thing Robert knew how to do, it was survive. “I had a helper, but they never told me who they were. They slipped something in your food to weaken you.”

There weren’t a lot of people who had access to Arthur’s food and I immediately knew who had reached out to Robert. It had to be Dana. That look on her face all those months ago suddenly made sense. She must have found out about Robert. Which meant everything he was saying was true.