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?”

own

“Today, you are to remain silent, no

though unversed in etiquette, sensed the inappropriateness of their

and uninhabited area filled her with dread–what

recalled Christine’s warnings/from the previous

the mountain’s midpoint, Gloria could already hear

pulse quickened– would he be

lead, hesitant to

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O

all this way, of spending a sleepless

several deep breaths, she followed the mountain

where once there was

when Eugene had guided her through tall

the scene

had come to see. Her blood boiled with excitement–he was really

another deep breath, and instructed the maid, “Wait here.

Gloria meeting a man alone, protested, “Luna Gloria, this is absolutely

a werewolf

don’t speak of it, neither will anyone else. Stay here and

the approaching footsteps, turned around. His werewolf hearing had pinpointed the deliberate yet light steps amid the waterfall’s thunderous

narrowed almost imperceptibly into

tears welled in her eyes and streamed down

deliberately released sweet honeysuckle pheromones, like tendrils with hooks, attempting

him.

scent that had once softened Eugene’s

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

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