The Breaking Point of Mate: Giving Up on My Alpha novel Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Third Person’s POV

Edric’s voice spiked with excitement. Without waiting for Dwight to say a word, he jerked his chin toward Archer. “Since when, man? How’d you keep this so quiet? Right, Archer?”

Archer didn’t jump in. He just sat there with his long legs crossed, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the side of his glass.

He kept his eyes on Dwight, a cryptic smirk playing on his lips–looking every bit like a judge waiting for a witness to trip over a

lie.

Dwight didn’t flinch. He traced the rim of his cold glass with his thumb and said flatly, “We just bumped into each other.”

“Oh, really?” Edric clearly wasn’t buying it; his mind was already racing. “So, let me guess–you grabbed lunch together, too? No wonder you’re so chill with the kid today. You had help.”

Dwight looked down and stayed silent.

In werewolf social circles, that kind of non–answer was basically a confession.

Archer watched him closely, his eyes darkening under the flickering lights.

His Alpha instincts were picking up on a shift in Dwight’s energy–a protective streak that Dwight was trying to bury, but failing.

“You’re into her,” Archer said suddenly. It wasn’t a question; it was a cold, hard observation delivered with the weight of a fact.

Dwight’s posture stiffened just for a fraction of a second.

He opened his mouth to push back, but a flash of that woman–laughing and chasing butterflies on the lawn–hit him. In the end, he said nothing.

That silence was a bombshell.

Camille, sitting next to Archer, felt her smile slip. Her grip on her wine glass tightened.

If a woman could catch the eye of an Alpha like Dwight–and make him admit it in front of Archer–she was definitely someone

to watch out for.

“Holy crap, it’s actually true?” Edric’s jaw dropped. He went from teasing to full–blown interrogation mode. “Who is she? Local family? Why didn’t you bring her tonight?”

Dwight stayed locked in his usual “stay away” mode.

Thinking he’d get more out of the kid, Edric crouched down to Myra’s level.

“Hey Myra, tell me about the pretty lady you had lunch with today. How many times have you seen her? What’s her name?”

Dwight’s grip on his glass turned his knuckles white. His voice went sub–zero. “Edric. Enough”

It was a clear warning.

Myra didn’t pick up on the heavy pheromones or the power play happening above her head. She just thought about it and spilled the beans. “I’ve seen her three times.”

“And her name is…” The little girl tilted her head, realizing she actually didn’t know

She looked at Dwight for help. “Uncle, what’s her name again?”

Dwight lowered his eyes, hiding a look of possessiveness that bordered on obsessive “You can ask her yourself next time you see her, Myra,” he said softly.

Chapter 85

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Myra beamed. “Sure!”

Edric rolled his eyes and muttered, “Stingy.”

Dwight ignored him.

His wolf was already restless just hearing her mentioned. That ghost of an apple scent felt like it was right under his nose again, making everything else at this party feel incredibly boring.

Myra noticed Trista staring at her crystal keychains. Even though she loved them, she was a sweet kid, so she handed one over. ” Here, you can have one.”

“Thanks, Myra!” Trista acted like she’d just been handed a diamond.

Camille chimed in with a “thank you” that sounded sweet enough to cause a cavity.

Watching Trista’s excitement, Myra looked at the pile of souvenirs and asked innocently, “Trista, aren’t you going to pick one out for your mommy, too?”

The mood, which had just started to lighten, crashed into a dead silence.

Trista’s hand shook, and she suddenly couldn’t look anyone in the eye. “I… I’ll get one in a minute,” she mumbled.

“Oh,” Myra chirped.

Archer watched Trista’s guilty, slumped shoulders and then looked at Camille trying to play “doting mother.” A sudden, inexplicable surge of irritation flared in his chest.

Late that night, Melanie was finally winding down.

She’d just stepped out of the shower, washing away the chaos of the day, when her comm–stone vibrated on the nightstand.

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