A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 111: A Bittersweet Bite

[Ann’s POV]

The sweet, yeasty scent of freshly baked pan de coco filled the wagon, a humble, comforting perfume that cut through the dust of the road. I took a small, neat bite from my own piece, the soft bread and sweet coconut filling a quiet pleasure.

My gaze drifted to Ovelia and Gale. In a perfect, unspoken synchronization, they both tore open the small plastic packets holding their bread at the exact same moment. The simultaneous rustle was a tiny thing, but it highlighted the new, invisible thread that now connected them. A sharp, cold pang, unexpected and unwelcome, twisted in my chest.

An elemental fairy is by her side now, the thought whispered, laced with a bitter edge. He has a bond I can never have. What if he becomes everything to her? What if... he takes her away from me?

I gave my head a small, firm shake, dispelling the treacherous thought. Lady Ovelia is not like that. She sees me. She values me. She would not abandon me. The logic was sound, but the chill of the fear lingered. I looked up and found Sir Ray watching me from the driver’s seat. His orange eyes held a quiet understanding, and he offered me a warm, reassuring smile, as if he could sense the storm of insecurity I was trying to quell. I managed a small, grateful smile in return before fixing my gaze on the winding road ahead, taking a deliberate bite of my own bread to ground myself.

[Ace’s POV]

Ray and Ann sat at the driver’s seat, a study in relaxed vigilance. Their postures were loose, but their eyes never stopped moving, constantly scanning the dense tree line on either side of the road. Their hands, even while eating, never strayed far from the hilts of their weapons. I watched Ovelia by my side, her expression one of pure, simple joy as she savored the soft bread and sweet coconut filling. Gale was perched on her lap, his tiny hands struggling to hold a piece half his size, nibbling at it with intense focus.

"This coconut filling is incredible," Gale mumbled through a full mouth, crumbs dusting his tunic. "I can’t believe I’m addicted to its taste. It’s a problem."

"I agree," Ovelia said, her voice bright and clear, a sound that always seemed to lighten the air around her. "It’s my absolute favorite."

My gaze drifted from them to the passing landscape, but my mind was churning. Knowing that Gale and Ovelia now shared a connection, even if it was as master and familiar, set my teeth on edge. A low, constant growl of displeasure vibrated in the deepest part of my mind—my wolf, Fenrir, shared the sentiment. I badly wanted to sever that silvery thread binding them, to remove any variable that put her at risk. But a colder, more rational part of me was aware that this bond was now a part of her, a new layer of protection I had to accept, no matter how it grated on my instincts.

I studied the fairy. I had insulted him earlier, trying to provoke a reaction, to find a flaw, a whiff of deception. But I could sense no danger from him, no malice in his scent, which was purely his unique scent. Yet, the very existence of their pact was a danger in itself. It was a glaring beacon waiting to be discovered.

[Gale’s POV]

I could feel it—the weight of his stare, that unblinking, analytical silver gaze fixed on the back of my head. It had been a constant pressure for miles, a silent scrutiny that was fraying my already thin patience.

"Prince Mutt," I snapped, twisting in mid-air to face him directly, my wings giving an irritated buzz. "Do you have to stare? It’s incredibly unnerving."

"Drop the ’prince,’ you pest," he retorted without missing a beat, swallowing the last of his bread with a dismissive scowl, as if I were a gnat he’d just swallowed.

"Both of you, can you please stop insulting each other?" Ovelia asked, her voice laced with a weary plea. She took another small, delicate bite of her snack.

"But—" Ace and I began in unison.

She held up a hand, silencing us. "Ace," she said, turning her red eyes on him, "stop calling Gale a pest. He’s part of our family now, right?"

I looked at Ace and gave him my most infuriating smile, then stuck out my tongue. I saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, his irritation a palpable heat in the confined space.

Then Ovelia turned her gaze to me. She finished her pan de coco and brushed the crumbs from her fingers. "And you, Gale, stop calling Ann, Ray, and Ace ’mutts.’ That’s not nice. You will call them by their names."

"But I—" I started to complain, ready to list a hundred reasons why the term was fitting.

She fixed me with a look that was utterly serious, her red eyes holding mine with an intensity that brooked no argument. "Both of you," she said, her voice leaving no room for negotiation, "apologize to each other. Now."

A strange sensation shot through my entire body, a rhythmic pulsing that mirrored the beat of my own heart. It was as if an invisible hand had taken hold of my will.

"So—" The word started to form in my mouth against my will. I clenched my jaw, fighting it. "So—" I began again, my wings fluttering in agitation.

What is this? I can’t stop. The realization was a cold splash of water. Is this what it means? As her familiar, I cannot defy a direct command?

"Gale? Ace?" Ovelia asked, her voice now tinged with confusion and concern.

"I can’t—" The pressure built in my chest, the air feeling thick and heavy. "Sorry, Ace," I finally forced out, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. Darn it.

"I’m sorry, too," Ace said flatly, but the lack of sincerity in his tone was as clear as day. He didn’t mean it any more than I did.

I glanced at Ann and Ray. They were facing forward, but I could see their shoulders shaking rhythmically. They were definitely holding back laughter.

"Ray and Ann," Ovelia added, ensuring complete coverage, "you should also call Gale by his name from now on."

Ray looked over his shoulder and gave a cheerful, unbothered nod. "Of course."

Ann turned, offering a smile that was angelic in its sweetness. "Yes, my lady." Then her eyes met mine, and the smile remained, but it transformed into something else—a sharp, silent challenge that felt more threatening than any snarl. Is she still treating Ovelia’s protection as a competition, with me as the new rival?

"Gale," Ace said, pulling my attention back. He was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, a calculating look in his eyes. "Hearing you say sorry... it means you can’t defy Ovelia’s direct orders. Am I right?"

I stayed silent, crossing my arms and looking away.

"Ovelia," Ace said, his voice dangerously smooth. "Make Gale answer my question."

This cunning mutt! He’s using her authority against me!

"Gale," Ovelia said, her voice gentle but firm. "Please answer Ace’s question."

I tried. I clenched my jaw shut, locking the words inside, to defy her, to show Ace he couldn’t control me this way. The moment I resisted, the pulsing returned, a hundred times stronger. The air grew crushing, pressing down on me from all sides, squeezing the breath from my body. A wave of dizzying vertigo washed over me. The compulsion was absolute.

"Ye—yes," I gasped, the admission feeling like a defeat. "Ace is right."

Ovelia’s face fell, her eyes widening with horrified understanding. "I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to force you; it’s just that I—"

I cut her off, not wanting to see her guilt. "I don’t mind," I said, trying to sound nonchalant, though the words were stiff. "You’re my master, after all." But the sadness in her eyes remained, a weight I hadn’t intended to place there.

Don’t look at me like that, I thought, turning away from her gaze. I don’t deserve your pity, you idiot.