Sold To The Alphas I Hate novel Chapter 379

Chapter 379: Eira And Iris

Eira’s POV

Kael had been gone for quite some time.

They must be discussing important matters between the packs. He would not leave my side this long otherwise.

After all, they were leaders. Their responsibilities stretched far beyond their mates.

Yet I did not feel lonely.

Luna Iris remained beside me, and we had settled comfortably on one of the lavish couches in the grand drawing room. She spoke warmly about the history of her family’s pack, sharing stories of ancient rulers, forgotten wars, and traditions I had never known existed in the werewolf world.

Her knowledge was vast. And the way she narrated it felt personal, as though she carried generations within her voice.

The other four and Raven were nearby, engaged in conversation with Evan. Even while speaking with Luna Iris, I could feel my mates’ gazes occasionally shift toward me.

They were alert. Watching. Ensuring my safety.

I pretended not to notice, but their quiet vigilance comforted me.

At one point, Luna Iris fell silent mid conversation. Her eyes remained on me, yet I sensed her thoughts drifting elsewhere.

Is she mindlinking someone? Her mate, perhaps.

I discreetly glanced around.

There was no sign of Alpha Gerald. But I noticed Evan had also grown momentarily still.

They were mindlinking.

I was certain of it.

A subtle shift crossed Luna Iris’s face. Her composure wavered. Emotion flickered in her eyes, and a faint sheen of moisture gathered in them.

My heart skipped. Did I say something wrong that hurt her?

I quickly looked toward my mates. They had noticed Evan’s pause as well. Their expressions told me they understood what was happening.

I chose not to react.

Luna Iris composed herself, her lips curving into a gentle smile despite the emotions lingering in her gaze.

"Would you like to see portraits of our ancestors?" she asked softly. "From the first Alpha King and his family... to us."

I nodded immediately.

Partly because I was genuinely curious. Partly because I sensed she needed the distraction.

She rose gracefully and led me toward the far end of the massive drawing room. A separate section had been dedicated to their lineage.

Portraits lined the walls in chronological order.

The Alphas with their family in it, their mates, their children.

Each painting detailed the era they ruled the werewolf world.

As I studied them, something caught my attention.

In nearly every portrait, behind the figures, carved or painted into the wall, there was a large intricate design.

It felt familiar.

I had seen a smaller version of it on the guards’ vehicles when we arrived. Shiny. Golden. Too small to study closely at the time.

But here, in full detail, it was unmistakable.

"Is this the royal family’s crest?" I asked to be sure.

Luna Iris nodded.

Perhaps I was mistaken.

Every pack has its own crest. During those years when I was dragged from one territory to another by those old hags, I must have seen dozens of similar designs. It was foolish to think this one meant anything.

We stopped before the final portrait.

It was of Alpha Gerald and Luna Iris, painted in regal poise. In Luna Iris’s arms rested a tiny child wrapped in soft layers of fabric.

The baby looked like a delicate doll.

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