Chapter 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?”

replied, her own

instructed the maid, “Today, you are to remain silent, no matter who we

unversed in etiquette,

uninhabited area filled her with dread–what if

recalled Christine’s warnings/from the previous

Gloria could already hear the

would

like lead, hesitant to take

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O

spending a sleepless night longing for him, only to find

she followed the mountain path

once there was none, likely carved by others who had discovered

guided her through tall grass, the thrill of levitating in

the scene

come to see. Her blood boiled with excitement–he

another deep breath,

with fear at the thought of Gloria meeting a man alone, protested, “Luna Gloria,

longer a werewolf general,” Gloria retorted

will anyone else. Stay

hearing the approaching footsteps, turned around. His werewolf hearing had pinpointed the deliberate

her, his pupils narrowed almost imperceptibly

Gloria drew near, tears welled in her

sweet honeysuckle pheromones, like tendrils with

him.

that had once softened Eugene’s

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

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