Chapter 33 – Ted POV
The pressure in the room shifts the moment Thorne Alden enters.
Before, it was suffocating—clashing pheromones between two furious alphas thick in the air, stifling every breath. But now, the sheer presence of Thorne Alden overrides it all. There's no flare of dominance, no outward aggression. Just a quiet weight that pulls the room back into order.
He doesn't even raise his voice.
And yet, the moment he says, "Mirelle. Niall. Control yourselves," the pheromones simmer down like they've been leashed.
My lungs gratefully expand, pulling in air that doesn't burn. I let out a small breath, trying not to draw attention to myself. I can still feel the tension, coiled and humming beneath the surface, but at least now it's not crushing.
Thorne Alden takes his seat at the head of the table. He's imposing without trying, his graying gold hair tied back into a low tail, streaked in silver like lightning bolts through sunlight. His features are sharp—regal, even.
If this is how Niall is going to age, he's going to turn into a really attractive old fox.
On his right sits Noelle Alden, the omega father of the Aldens, and if Thorne is a mountain, Noelle is the sea beside it—calm, endless, and hiding storms beneath still waters. He frowns slightly, likely due to the lingering pheromones, but his expression is otherwise composed.
I want to shrink into my chair.
I didn't mean to start anything. I didn't think my words would sting so sharply. I was just… being honest. But I guess when you're surrounded by some of the most powerful hunters and otherworlders alive, even honesty is a weapon if wielded wrong.
Thieran, leans forward and gives a quick summary of what happened. His tone is light, but there's a flicker of concern in his eyes. I wonder if he's worried about me, or about how the family dinner has officially become a diplomatic disaster.
Thorne Alden listens quietly.
Then, without preamble, he says, "Mirelle, apologize."
She stiffens.
But then she turns her eyes on me, all the bristling power in her frame dampened now. "I'm sorry," she says.
I nod, unsure how else to react. "It's fine. I overstepped."
Before I can say more, a hand finds mine under the table. I look down—Noelle Alden. His slender fingers curl gently around mine, offering a soft pressure of reassurance. I look up and he offers me a quiet smile, eyes warm.
"You know the situation and circumstances of your mate," Thorne continues, addressing Mirelle.
"But he doesn't. His reaction is valid. You, of all people, know the conditions Otherworlders endure under the Langstons' policies."
"I didn't mean—" Mirelle starts, voice tight.
"Regardless," Thorne cuts in gently.
"You are an alpha. Remember to control yourself. I understand instinct tells you to protect your mate, but you are not just your instincts. That goes for you too, Niall. You were moments away from fighting your sister."
"Sorry," they both murmur.
The room exhales, as if everyone was holding their breath.
Silence follows.
Then Thieran, blessed Thieran, chirps in to shift the mood. "Sooo… shall we eat? Because I've been starving through this whole dramatic interlude."
Laughter bubbles up at the table—relieved, awkward, genuine.
Noelle releases my hand and claps twice, summoning the staff waiting silently near the doors. Within seconds, food begins to flow onto the table—simmering trays, aromatic dishes, bread, wine. It's overwhelming, a feast fit for royalty.
I take the moment to glance at Raina, seated across from me. Her eyes meet mine, and there's something quiet and steady in her gaze. She nods, a faint gesture of shared exhaustion. Her hand brushes against Mirelle's on the table, and the other woman calms noticeably.
This isn't what I expected when I was kidnapped and dragged to Alden island.
But maybe… just maybe, it's not the worst thing.
Still.
As I watch Niall cut a piece of meat and place it onto my plate without asking, I realize something else. Even after everything, I don't hate being here.
And that might be the scariest part of all.