Chapter 31
Raina POV
"Are you sure this is fine?" I ask again, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt for the fifth time.
Mirelle sighs, amused. "Yeah, it's just a casual dinner."
I'm wearing the simplest outfit I could find—a clean white T-shirt tucked into high-waisted jeans. My braids are up in a neat bun, and I've kept my makeup minimal. Still, my nerves are all over the place.
Mirelle, on the other hand, is casual perfection. Her khaki shorts and powder blue button-up shirt make her look relaxed and striking. The shirt does something to her eyes—makes them look brighter, deeper. It's infuriating.
Apparently, every Saturday the Aldens gather for a family dinner. Just… the entire Alden family. No pressure, right?
I straighten again. "Are you sure?"
"Don't worry. Even if you looked like a hideous troll, carrying the first grandchild is a universal pass." Mirelle grins.
"Well, fuck you."
She snickers. Like I haven't heard that laugh in my sleep lately. We leave the room.
These past few days, I've come to the disturbing realization that I don't know Mirelle Alden at all. Not the Mirelle outside boardrooms, meetings, and press conferences. She's quieter than I imagined, kind of reserved. Her biting sarcasm only comes out when she's tired or trying to piss me off—which is more often than I care to admit. She's also incredibly busy, constantly pulled between meetings, family duties, and documents stacked taller than me.
She snores. Well—not exactly snores—but she makes this little sound when she sleeps. A soft, steady hum that I now associate with comfort.
Which is horrifying.
Because a month ago, I wanted to kill her.
Now, I miss her when she steps out of the room. Baby's influence.
We take a few turns through long hallways and descend a grand staircase. My breath catches as we enter the dining hall.
The room looks like something out of an architectural magazine. A long, sleek rectangular table stretches across the room, surrounded by elegant high-backed chairs. One entire wall is made of glass, offering a view of the crashing ocean just beyond the cliffs. Light filters in through the glass ceiling above, golden and warm.
Already seated near the far end of the table are four people: Thieran and Niall, who I recognize immediately, and across from them, a pale, slender man with soft curls and a calming presence. Next to him, a raven-haired man whose sharp eyes don't miss a thing. That must be Ted.
Mirelle pulls out a chair for me and I sit, murmuring a quick thanks.
"You're just in time," Thieran says brightly, hands clasped under his chin. He's practically glowing, dressed in some ridiculously oversized pastel sweater with beaded cuffs.
He looks between us and claps once, loudly.
"Everyone, introductions! Raina, Ted. Ted, Raina. Raina is the oldest's partner—"
"Wife," Mirelle corrects without looking up.
"Wife-to-be," Thieran amends smoothly. "And Ted is my twin's partner-to-be. I don't think you two have met."
Ted offers me a polite nod.
"I don't think there's an otherworlder alive who doesn't know who Raina Langston is," he says simply.
The table goes silent.
It's not what he says—it's how he says it.
I flinch inwardly and apparently outward because it seems to catch Mirelle's attention.
She turns, slowly, expression unreadable. Her fingers tense beneath mine, the easygoing air she carried in vanished like a switch had flipped.
She wants to say something. I can see it in her jaw, the way it locks. I slide my hand over hers, a silent don't.
But it's too late.
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asks, voice cold, measured.
I stiffen.
"It means exactly what it's supposed to mean," Niall says, his voice firm—not mocking, not teasing, but protective. He leans forward slightly, eyes locked on Mirelle with a calm seriousness that silences the entire table.
Mirelle shifts her attention to him, her entire body going still.
The silence around the table turns solid.