The Breaking Point of Mate: Giving Up on My Alpha novel Chapter 64

Chapter 64

Third Person’s POV

Dwight gave a flat refusal over the communication stone. “She’s shy. The scents on a yacht are too chaotic; she’ll be uncomfortable.”

“Come on, Trista’s going to be there. Pups the same age always find a way to play,” Edric said, not giving him a chance to back out. “It’s settled. Seven o’clock. Don’t be late.”

The line went dead before Dwight could say another word.

Dwight turned his gaze back to the lawn.

Under the sunlight, Melanie was chasing a blue–violet butterfly with Myra. Her hair was a bit messy, but she radiated a breathtaking sense of life.

It was a raw, unshielded kind of freedom he had never seen in any other she–wolf.

The brief “overlap” in their worlds came to an end only when they were exhausted, and Myra fell into a deep sleep in Melanie’s

arms.

When Melanie drove away, even her goodbye felt gentle yet distant.

Dwight stood there watching her red taillights vanish, the faint, intoxicating scent of apples still clinging to his senses.

A while later, Myra woke up, rubbing her eyes and asking, “Where’s Auntie Melanie?”

“She went home.”

“Ah…” The little girl looked down at her empty palm, and a sense of disappointment silently spread through the narrow car.

At seven o’clock, the yacht set sail right on time.

The deck was brilliant with lights. Members from different packs were dressed to the nines, and a cocktail of pheromones swirled in the sea breeze, thick with a sense of decadent excitement.

Seeing Dwight, Edric waved him over. His eyes landed on Myra, and he flashed a standard social smile. “This must be Myra? Hey there, I’m your uncle’s friend, Edric…”

Myra timidly ducked behind Dwight’s leg.

Just then, Camille walked over, leading Trista by the hand.

Her pale purple gown shimmered under the moonlight; every movement she made carried the air of an elegant woman who already knew she had won.

Dwight’s fingers tightened instinctively at his side.

Trista, being more outgoing, reached out. “Myra, there’s tons of fun stuff over there. Want to come check it out with me?”

Myra looked up at Dwight. Only after he gave a silent nod did she find the courage to follow Trista into the crowd.

“First time babysitting. How’s it feel?” Edric asked, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

“Fine. She’s well–behaved,” Dwight said. His voice was steady, but it carried a “don’t get too close” chill.

Archer handed him a glass of neat spirits. “Drink?”

Dwight hesitated for half a second before taking it. “Thanks.”

The two Alphas clinked glasses.

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Chapter 64

+30 Bonus

The ice hit the crystal with a sharp, clear ring.

Archer took a sip, his eyes seemingly scanning his long–time friend with casual indifference.

After a moment, Archer’s gaze lingered on Dwight’s collar, his eyes darkening slightly.

“What?” Dwight asked, meeting his gaze.

Edric chimed in from the side. “You seem… off today.”

Archer’s lips quirked into a cryptic smirk.

With his Alpha senses, he picked up a trace of something in Dwight’s aura–the incredibly faint scent of a she–wolf.

Dwight didn’t flinch. His voice remained cool. “Do I?”

“Don’t you?” Edric raised an eyebrow.

Dwight took a slow sip of his drink and didn’t take the bait.

Once the initial crowd dispersed, Myra and Trista ran back.

“Uncle, I want a cupcake from over there,” Myra said, pointing at the dessert table.

Knowing his niece had severe allergies, Dwight wasn’t taking any chances. “Stay here. I’ll go get it for you.”

Trista, used to having free rein, brought back a plate of delicate pastries. “Dad, want some?”

Archer ruffled her hair, his voice warm. “No thanks.”

Camille sat nearby, gracefully picking up a sweet treat to share with Trista.

Trista beamed. “Thanks, Camille!”

Myra sat next to them, staring curiously at Camille for a long time. Suddenly, she asked Trista in her sweet, childish voice,” Trista, is this lady… not your mommy?”

The noisy deck seemed to go quiet for a heartbeat.

Archer’s grip on his glass tightened slightly, and the smile on Camille’s face froze for a fraction of a second.

Trista blinked, then shook her head. “No, she’s not.”

Myra tilted her head, asking softly, “Do you not have a mommy anymore either?”

“I have a mom,” Trista corrected her.

“Oh…”

A little later, the yacht staff began handing out souvenirs.

Myra picked out two exquisite crystal keychains–the last pair available.

Trista watched the moonlight reflect off the crystals and couldn’t help but ask, “Myra, can I have one? I want to give it to

Camille.”

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