Page 64 of Alpha's Exiled Mate
Anna nodded excitedly, the light in her eyes when she smiled exactly the same as Lilia’s.
The music began to play, and attendants entered the hall carrying an array of dishes. Throughout the dinner, Anna excitedly shared stories about her life in Fellinger and how much she loved wolves. I listened intently, asking questions from time to time, watching her eyes—my eyes—sparkle with excitement. A fierce protective instinct surged within me.
When the chocolate wolf-shaped cake was brought out, Anna was so thrilled she nearly jumped out of her seat.
“Make a wish before you blow out the candles,” Lilia said, her voice tender, her hand brushing Anna’s dark hair with a mother’s love, her touch gentle and grounding.
Anna squeezed her eyes shut, her hands clasped tightly, her small face etched with adorable seriousness, as if the weight of the world rested on her wish. After a moment, she opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and blew out the candles in one determined gust, earning a round of cheers and applause from the gathered guests—nobles, courtiers, and a few carefully selected children invited to share Anna’s day.
“Can I ask what you wished for?” I said, leaning forward, my tone playful, a smile tugging at my lips.
Anna shook her head, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, her eyes twinkling with secrets. “Nope! If I tell, it won’t come true! That’s the rule!”
I nodded gravely, suppressing a chuckle, my heart swelling with affection. “You’re absolutely right, little princess. It’s a secret, then, safe with you.”
After cutting the cake, it was time to open gifts. Anna flitted from one gift box to another like a little bird, letting out delighted squeals with each one she opened. There were exquisite dolls, gorgeous dresses, a delicate wooden carriage, and a set of riding gear… but the gift that excited her the most was the last one, from me—a lifelike wolf plushie, nearly as big as she was, with soft fur and impeccable craftsmanship.
“It’s so beautiful!” Anna cried, wrapping her arms around it, her small frame barely encircling its bulk, her eyes shimmering with joy. “I’m naming it Silvarius! Like your wolf, right?”
I froze, my gaze snapping to Lilia, who looked equally stunned, her green eyes wide with disbelief. Had she told Anna my wolf’s name? Lilia shook her head slightly, her expression mirroring my own confusion, a silent denial that deepened the mystery.
“How did you know my wolf is called Silvarius?” I asked softly, my voice tinged with wonder, my heart pounding with the weight of the moment.
Anna tilted her head, her face the picture of innocence, her brows furrowing as if the question puzzled her. “I didn’t know! I just thought it should be Silvarius, cause its fur is all silvery, like moonlight on water. Is your wolf really called that?”
Lilia and I exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the impossible, a shiver of recognition passing between us. Anna had never seen my wolf form, never heard its name spoken in her presence. This wasn’t mere coincidence—it was the pull of blood, a bond that transcended knowledge, tying her to me in ways that defied logic, a connection as ancient as the moon itself.
“Yes,” I said, my voice thick with emotion, my throat tightening as I fought to keep my composure. “My wolf is indeed Silvarius. You guessed perfectly, Anna.”
Anna happily hugged the wolf plushie tightly, seemingly oblivious to her own whimsical guesses. But I noticed Lilia’s expression shift. Her gaze darted between Anna and me, a flicker of unease and hesitation in her eyes.
The party continued, and Anna requested a story about wolves. I recounted ancient tales of the wolf clan, explaining how the first werewolf gained the ability to transform and the connection between moonlight and bloodlines. Anna listenedwith rapt attention, asking questions from time to time, her curiosity reminding me of my younger self.
After the story, Anna and a few other noble children, specially invited for the occasion, went off to play games under the supervision of the maids. Finally, I had the chance to speak with Lilia alone.
“Thank you for the party,” she said quietly, her voice soft but layered with complexity, her green eyes meeting mine with a mix of gratitude and caution. “Anna’s thrilled—she’ll remember this forever.”
“It’s my honor,” I said sincerely, holding her gaze, willing her to see the truth in my words. “Seeing her happy, seeing her smile like that—it’s all I want, Lilia.”
She remained silent for a moment, as if carefully considering how to voice her concerns. “Perock, I must ask you a question.”
“Go ahead,” I said, bracing myself, sensing the weight of her question before it left her lips.
“Why are you so focused on Anna?” she asked, her words direct, cutting through the air like a blade, her gaze searching mine for any hint of deception. “I need to know the truth, Perock. What’s your intention?”
Her question stung, but I understood her concern. In her eyes, I might just be showing this affection toward Anna for the sake of my own life.
“Lilia,” I looked at her earnestly, ensuring she could feel my sincerity, “I promise you, even if Anna has nothing to do with the curse, even if she can’t extend my life by a single second, I will still love and protect her as I do now.”
A flicker of wavering emotion passed through her eyes, but the wariness remained.
“Does breaking the curse require taking a child’s life to sustain your own?” she asked directly, her voice trembling slightly.
My heart tightened. I hadn’t expected her to ask this so bluntly. Indeed, ancient legends mentioned a dark method of prolonging one’s life at the cost of a child’s, but that was forbidden dark magic, not the true path to breaking the curse.
“Lilia,” I looked at her, seeing the fear and worry in her eyes, “no matter what breaking the curse requires, I promise you, I will never harm Anna. Even if it means I must face death from the curse, I would never touch a single hair on her head.”
She stared into my eyes, searching for any trace of deception. I could sense the struggle within her—she wanted to believe me, but the wounds of the past made it impossible for her to let her guard down easily.