Chapter 51: Shadows of Envy
**Thelma Zane’s POV:**
Perhaps the future awaiting me, after my identity was inevitably revealed, would be far from ideal. Still, in this fleeting moment under the moonlit sky, I allowed myself to believe in. Bernard’s sincerity and courage. I chose to trust him completely, vowing silently never to betray that trust.
Under the moonlight, our affection for each other manifested in tender kisses. The world. seemed to fade away as we shared this quiet, intimate moment.
When the kiss ended, I felt a wave of shyness creeping up on me. Even though there wasn’t at soul around, the vulnerability of the moment made my cheeks flush.
“Are you upset ?” Bernard asked, resting his forehead lightly against mine with a mischievous smile “Because 1 kissed you for so long, you didn’t get a chance to breathe?
1 gasped. How had this man become so cheeky after such an emotional confession?
Unable to resist, I gave him a playful punch or two before melting back into his embrace. We sat on the training ground, basking in the moon’s glow, savoring the rare stillness and tranquility.
“About that prophecy…”
We spoke simultaneously, the timing making us both laugh.
“You first,” he urged, his voice soft but steady.
I hesitated, then murmured, “I just wanted to say, don’t worry too much. We won’t let things get that bad.”
Bernard nodded reassuringly. “Exactly. Whatever lies ahead, we’ll face it together. We won’t let any prophecy dictate our lives.”
Taking a deep breath, I admitted, “The prophecy mentioned that the disaster wouldn’t come from us directly. It’s supposed to be triggered by some external force that’s out of our sight.”
e cause,
“I know it’s not rational, but I can’t help feeling nervous. Even though I’m not the keep fearing that my actions might worsen things.”
I
Bernard cupped my face gently and kissed my cheek. “I’m glad you care so much, Thelma, but promise me one thing–you’ll always prioritize yourself. No matter what happens, your safety and happiness come first.”
I gave a small smile and countered, “Only if you promise me the same.”
We didn’t need to swear oaths; our bond was already sealed in the deepest recesses of our hearts. Passionate love flowed through our veins, unspoken yet undeniable, binding us
together in a way no words could describe.
**Walter Bernard’s POV:**
Winter had crept in before I realized it.
Lately, the atmosphere in the pack had been heavy, shrouded in a lingering gloom. Even though weeks had passed since Thelma’s desperate leap, the weight of that fateful day hung over us like an unshakable shadow.
Rhode never spoke of it openly, but I knew he often visited the spot where Thelma had jumped, spending entire nights lost in thought. Sometimes, Mr. Wharton joined him.
I couldn’t say why, but I found myself drawn to that spot as well. Despite not feeling guilty for what happened, something about that cliff seemed to pull me in, as though seeking answers to unspoken questions.
Meanwhile, Daniel was basking in his newfound happiness. His trip to the Silver Moon Pack had unexpectedly led him to his mate, Teresa. She was everything anyone could hope for strong, beautiful, courageous, and noble.
I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy for Daniel’s good fortune. Unlike him, I was still wandering through life alone, my second mate nowhere in sight.
The
Southern Pack seemed like a promising destination to try my luck, but even there, the Moon Goddess appeared indifferent to my plight. No matter how many potential mates I encountered, not one of them turned out to be the one destined for me.
“Hey, don’t look so down,” Rhode said, handing me a bottle of ginger beer. His casual tone) didn’t mask the genuine concern in his eyes. “Love isn’t something you can rush. Look at me- I’m still single, and I’m not stressing about it. Some werewolves don’t meet their mates until they’re fifty.”
“Get out of here with that nonsense,” I retorted, taking a swig of the ginger beer. “I can’t afford to wait until I’m fifty. My pack needs me to find my mate sooner rather than later.”
Rhode chuckled, the sound lighthearted and teasing. “Admit it, Walter. It’s not just about the pack. You’re scared of growing old alone.”
I said nothing, letting my silence confirm his playful accusation.
Being Alpha added an extra layer of pressure to the situation. For an ordinary werewolf, waiting for a mate might be manageable. But for me, finding my destined partner wasn’t just a personal matter–it was vital for the continuity and strength of the pack.
“You know,” Rhode began, draping an arm over my shoulder, “we don’t have to stick to the old ways. Plenty of werewolves have chosen mates instead of waiting for fate. Look around. We’ve visited countless packs, and how many Alphas have a Luna who’s a chosen mate?”
I glanced disinterestedly at the dance floor, where a group of lively girls was enjoying
themselves.
“Chosen mates can’t compare to fated mates,” replied, my tone firm. “A chosen mate is just a convenient choice. A fated mate, though–that’s a gift from the Moon Goddess herself. Only a bond with a fated mate can ensure the pack’s purity and strength.”
Rhode sighed, realizing I wasn’t going to budge on the matter.
“Fine, fine. Keep holding out for your mythical soulmate,” he said with a grin.
Changing the subject, he nudged me and said, “Did you see the southern Duke yesterday? 1 swear, the man doesn’t look a day over thirty, but he’s fifty–two! How does he do it?” “It’s true,” I admitted. “Rumor has it his family has elven blood. That could explain it.” “Well, the Duke didn’t find his mate until he was thirty–six,” Rhode pointed out with a smirk. “So maybe you won’t have to wait quite as long. Thirty–five would do, don’t you think?”
“Get lost,” I muttered, though a small smile tugged at my lips.
After some coaxing, Rhode managed to drag me onto the dance floor for a few rounds. But my heart wasn’t in it, and before long, I was ready to call it a night.
As we prepared to leave, the southern Duke’s daughter, Carolyn, approached us.
Η
“Are you leaving already?” she asked, her tone a mix of surprise and disappointment. “Stay a little longer.
planned for later. Please, make yourselves at home.
– pot!
