Chapter 459
459
Third Person’s POV
Gloria was well aware of the vast difference between Eugene and Ulrik, as striking as the contrast between clouds and clay.
That fleeting glance from Eugene had sent her heart racing.
In that brief moment, his eyes had conveyed deep affection.
She was certain Eugene still harbored feelings for her.
She resented Christine for returning the pension, which seemed like a final severance of all ties, leaving her in a dilemma.
No, she must see Eugene again.
Ulrik, noticing her silence and darkening mood, grew anxious. “Still feeling unwell? I’ll send for a doctor right away,” he offered.
Gloria reassured him with a gentle squeeze of his hand, “I’m better now.”
The next day, she dressed meticulously, tucking a fresh red rose behind her ear, and set out.
She was bound for a place that might confirm Eugene’s lingering feelings for her.
At the foot of Yellowstone Mountain lay a stream that cascaded into a small waterfall midway up the slope.
This was Eugene’s sanctuary–a place he frequented when burdened by sorrow or indecision.
He had once brought her here.
Her maid assisted her up the mountain trail. As the surroundings grew desolate, the maid’s unease spilled into words, “Luna Gloria, where exactly are we heading? The heat is overwhelming. Are you sure you can manage?”
“We’re almost there,” Gloria replied, her own breath coming heavier with the exertion.
She paused to catch her breath and coolly instructed the maid, “Today, you are to remain silent, no matter who we encounter. Understood?”
The maid, though unversed in etiquette, sensed the inappropriateness of their outing.
The remote and uninhabited area filled her with dread–what if danger arose?
She recalled Christine’s warnings/from the previous night.
Reaching the mountain’s midpoint, Gloria could already hear the waterfall’s roar.
Her pulse quickened– would he be here?
Her legs felt like lead, hesitant to take another step..
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The thought of coming all this way, of spending a sleepless night longing for him , only to find him absent. was humiliating.
After several deep breaths, she followed the mountain path onward,
To her surprise, a trail now existed where once there was none, likely carved by others who had discovered this scenic spot.
Memories flooded back–of their past visits when Eugene had guided her through tall grass , the thrill of levitating in his arms.
Rounding the bend, the scene opened up.
There, by the waterfall, stood the figure she had come to see. Her blood boiled with excitement–he was really here!
She touched the red rose behind her ear, took another deep breath, and instructed the maid, “ Wait here. Do not follow.”
The maid, pale with fear at the thought of Gloria meeting a man alone, protested, “Luna Gloria, this is absolutely improper. If Alpha Ulrik finds out…”
“He’s no longer a werewolf general,” Gloria retorted coldly.
“If you don’t speak of it, neither will anyone else. Stay here and keep watch.”
Eugene, hearing the approaching footsteps, turned around. His werewolf hearing had pinpointed the deliberate yet light steps amid the waterfall’s thunderous roar.
Spotting her, his pupils narrowed almost imperceptibly into vertical slits–was it truly her?
As Gloria drew near, tears welled in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.
She deliberately released sweet honeysuckle pheromones, like tendrils with hooks, attempting to ensnare
him.
This was the scent that had once softened Eugene’s cedar pheromones during their mating.
Eugene, drenched from head to toe, stood with his clothing clinging to his lean and tall frame. The temporary mark on his neck, not yet faded, glowed a faint red in the water’s sheen.
He instinctively stepped back, his cedar pheromones tightening like an icy shell. “Why are you here?” he asked.
Gloria advanced a few more steps, her cries blending with the wave of her pheromones, the undertone of her voice carrying a wolf’s howl. “I had to see you. I’m so glad you’re back, Eugene. You’re alive, and I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”
Her pheromones were more potent than ever, attempting to pry open the sealed gland win Eugene. Eugene looked at her tears, and his wolf claws dug crescent–shaped grooves into his palm. Once, during their mating, his cedar pheromones had rippled with tenderness at her tears.
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Now, those ripples were frozen–where the bond had broken, only numb emptiness remained.
“Thank you for your concern, but we are no longer mates,” Eugene stated.
His vertical pupils flashed coldly in the sunlight as he deliberately maintained distance, a barrier that kept Gloria’s pheromones at bay. “You’ve mated with another. We must keep our distance.
“Keep our distance?”
Gloria laughed through her tears, her pheromones sharpening like shattered glass. Her ears trembled with indignation. “Have you become so heartless?”
“I…” Eugene stood in the water, watching as she approached the water’s edge, heedless of her soaked shoes. His pheromones flared with a warning aura.
Ripples formed at his feet as he said, “Don’t come in. I’ll come to you.”
He stepped onto the shore but instinctively moved a few paces to the left, his cedar pheromones forming an invisible wall.
In the damp air, her pheromones fell like broken pearls, even his sensitive neck glands unresponsive–the severed bond had rendered their pheromones strangers.
“You shouldn’t have come,” he said, his voice as cold as ice in the waterfall.
“We shouldn’t meet. If this gets out, it could ruin your reputation.”
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