Sold To The Alphas I Hate

Chapter 390: Eira’s Declaration

Eira’s POV

Alpha Gerald stepped forward, his presence alone commanding the attention of the entire hall. Conversations faded, and within moments, silence settled like a heavy veil over everyone present.

"Today’s event is not only special because my son has entered adulthood," he began, his deep voice steady and authoritative, "but also because I have found the child I lost two decades ago. My firstborn."

His gaze shifted to me.

"And here she stands before me," a faint softness touching his otherwise stern expression, "a young and beautiful woman, just like her mother. My daughter, Eva Hawthorne, now known as Eira Valemonte, Luna of the StormHowl pack."

A ripple of shock passed through the crowd.

The same people who had been whispering, judging, and looking at me with disdain only moments ago now stood frozen, their faces drained of color. Many of them had looked at me as nothing more than a whore.

Now, not a single one of them dared to speak.

Being a daughter of someone like this man seemed to hold more importance and power than I could comprehend.

"All of you have known that my first child was abducted," he continued, his tone sharpening, "but none of you knew that it was my daughter. A pureblood, a strong shewolf. My enemies knew her worth. That is why they took her."

His gaze hardened as it swept across the hall.

"But today, I stand before you and proudly announce that I have found her."

A pause. It was deliberate. Heavy.

"And I expect every one of you to understand where your boundaries begin and end with her."

The air grew colder.

"She is my daughter. Royal blood. A princess."

My breath caught slightly. Though I knew, the declaration in front of these poweful people felt surreal.

Alpha Gerald must have sensed the looks, the whispers, the judgment that had surrounded me though out the event. This was not just an announcement. It was a warning.

His voice deepened, each word carrying a quiet but terrifying authority that seemed to carve itself into the very walls of the hall.

"I advise all of you to choose your alliances carefully. Anyone who dares to harm my daughter or the StormHowl pack will be considered an enemy of the HollowCrest pack."

A visible tension spread among the guests.

"I will personally see to such matters," his tone unyielding, "and I will not hesitate to remind the werewolf world of the power that still runs in the royal bloodline. If necessary, I will show you what happens when we step onto the battlefield...again."

No one moved.

No one breathed too loudly.

"The freedom and privileges all packs have enjoyed since the royal family stepped away from ruling can be taken back just as easily. If provoked, I will ensure you remember what it means to lose that freedom and return to serving the crown."

A chill ran down my spine, not sure what was happening to others.

"I will remind you of the great war," he finished, his voice dropping to more dangerous, "and what it truly means to stand as an enemy of the HollowCrest pack."

Silence. Absolute and suffocating.

I had always known Alpha Gerald was powerful. A top tier Alpha. But this... this was something else entirely. The way he held the entire hall in fear without raising his voice, without even trying, made me question just how powerful he truly was.

And yet, he had chosen to stay out of conflicts unless absolutely necessary.

The absence of anyone from the RavenClaw pack spoke just as loudly as his words. They had not been invited. And he made clear that they were enemies.

"We are glad to see you reunited with your daughter, Gerald," an elderly man finally spoke, easing the tension, his voice careful yet respectful. "A pureblood shewolf of your bloodline... the werewolf world is fortunate to have her."

Others quickly followed, offering their congratulations, their tones polite, measured, and significantly more cautious than before.

The suffocating tension began to ease, though the weight of Gerald’s warning still lingered in the air.

Luna Iris and Evan stepped onto the stage.

Before I could react, she pulled me into a warm embrace.

"I am so happy, Eva," she whispered softly, her voice filled with emotion, "that the world now knows how fortunate I am to have a daughter like you." Her eyes were moist. "My beautiful daughter."

Her arms tightened around me, and for a moment, the overwhelming weight of everything faded.

I closed my eyes briefly, allowing myself to feel it. Belonging. At last.

Unlike the others, my parents and my brother had shown no disdain for my past. To them, I was not a scandal, not a story whispered behind closed doors. I was simply their own. Their blood. Their family.

That alone felt like a gift I had never known I was allowed to have.

My gaze softened as it fell on Raven. I raised my hand slightly and beckoned him. "Come to mommy."

Roman guided him gently toward the stage before stepping back, leaving him to come to me on his own. The five of them, my mates, chose to remain where they were, deliberately keeping their distance so that all attention remained on me.

I bent slightly and lifted Raven into my arms. Even in my condition, with the life growing inside me, he felt light. Effortless. It was as if my wolf lent me strength, quietly reminding me of what I was capable of.

I brushed my fingers through his hair and spoke softly, "Daddy told you yesterday that your mommy is a princess. That makes you a prince too."

Raven gave a small, solemn nod.

A faint smile touched my lips before I lifted my gaze to the crowd.

"This is my son, Raven," I said, my voice clear and unwavering. "And I dare anyone here to look down upon his bloodline."

The hall stilled once more.

"His mother carries royal blood, a lineage that stands far above yours. And his father..." I paused, letting my gaze drift deliberately over the shewolves who had dared to call my son filthy. "I do not need to explain the power he holds or the legacy he carries. Raven is a child with two most powerful bloodline."

A flicker of unease passed across several faces.

"He will grow to be stronger than any Alpha standing in this hall today," I continued, my tone edged with quiet steel. "And I will make sure that every one of you lives long enough to witness it."

Guilt twisted their expressions exactly as I had intended. Let them feel it.

I had endured their judgment in silence. I had tolerated their whispers, their looks, their assumptions.

But not when it came to my son. Never him.

"I do not care what the world chooses to say about me," I added, my voice lowering slightly, but losing none of its firmness. "But I will not tolerate a single word spoken against my child. He has done nothing to deserve your cruelty."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then an elder stepped forward, his expression bright with approval. "Of course he will become a top tier Alpha," he said warmly. "With bloodlines like his, how could he not? It is a blessing to see pureblood strength rising again when we feared it might one day fade. He represents a new beginning."

As expected.

The shift was immediate.

Where there had been judgment, there was now admiration. Where there had been disdain, there was now interest.

They would all take him seriously now.

Good.

My purpose here was fulfilled.

As I stepped down from the stage, the crowd began to gather around us, their curiosity now openly directed at Raven.

"He is still young and not used to such crowds," I said calmly, tightening my hold on him just slightly. "Please do not frighten him."

Understanding replaced their eagerness, and they gave way as I moved forward.

With my son in my arms, I walked toward my mates, my steps steady, my head held high. Pride settled quietly within me.

Accepting my roots, I felt it was the best decision of my life I took for my son’s sake.

I wonder if I had told them I am the rare shewolf born once in century, what would have been their reactions. But, there was no need. This much was enough.

My parents joined us, no longer holding back, no longer needing to conceal anything. Their affection flowed freely now, both for me and for their grandson, whom they could finally claim before the world.

"Finally done something sensible, Caldwell?" Rafe’s voice murmured near my ear, laced with its usual mockery.

I turned my head slowly, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "Hawthorne," I corrected, my tone cool and edged with pride. "Not Caldwell."

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Eva, not Eira," he countered easily. "But you once said a name is just an emotion used to call someone. And my emotion seems to be stuck on Caldwell. So you will have to bear with it."

I frowned at him.

This bastard always had an answer for everything.

I huffed softly under my breath and looked away.

Whatever.