Sold To The Alphas I Hate novel Chapter 351

Chapter 351: Want To Live In This Home?

Eira’s POV

Though I was disappointed about not finding the box, I chose to let it go and move forward. I still had to meet Alice.

Just as we stepped out of the house, Kael spoke softly. "This home belongs to you now. Do you want me to renovate it? Make some changes?"

I shook my head. "Leave it as it is. Let it fade with time."

I did not want to cling to the past, nor did I want to erase it completely. Every part of it had shaped who I was. One day, it would disappear just like me when my last breath came.

We left soon after and drove toward the cemetery to visit Alice and Jennifer. Raven placed flowers on their graves along with us.

"Alice, this is my son, Raven," I said softly, a faint smile touching my lips. "You are an aunt now..." I spoke to her quietly for a while, sharing little things as though she could still hear me. When I finished and wiped my tears, Rafe came to stand beside me.

I looked at him.

He brushed away the remaining moisture from my cheek, his gaze gentle for once, but the softness did not last long.

"You should tell her what we talked about the other day," he said casually.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"About Lucian kissing a guy," he added, and just like that, the comforting man vanished, replaced by the usual asshole.

"You..." I swallowed my anger as a hand suddenly grabbed the back of Rafe’s shirt and dragged him away.

Lucian.

His expression was dark with irritation.

"Luke..." Rafe started.

"Shut your mouth while I am still being nice," Lucian warned, dragging him toward the car. He shoved him inside, gave him a sharp punch, and slammed the door. "Stay there," he ordered before returning to us.

Lucian and Jason then placed flowers on their mother’s grave. Both stood silently, heads lowered, eyes closed, as though speaking to her through their thoughts.

I wondered what they might be telling her.

They loved and respected their mother deeply, always trying to be the perfect sons for her. Her death must have shattered them, and somewhere in my heart, I carried the unbearable weight of knowing that, unintentionally, I had been part of the reason behind it.

Back when I used to imagine a future with him, I often pictured Jennifer as my own mother too. She had been kind, warm, and gentle. They were lucky to have her. A part of me envied that bond, because I had never known what it felt like to have a mother of my own.

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