Illiya's duty was to ensure that Arion performed at his best, and the small tricks Arion played at this moment were of no concern to her, especially when they posed no threat to the Pack's interests.
Arion had, in fact, thwarted an escape attempt by one of the alpha's pets. So, there was no need for Illiya to take any action that might embarrass her young master. The only individuals who could intervene with Arion were the alpha, Xander, and the Luna, Eve.
"It seems that way. However, Lily must return now, or Alpha Xander will hold me responsible," Isa stated.
"Alright. Lily, you should go back with the head servant, Isa," Arion said gently.
He couldn't bear to see the reluctance on Lily's lovely face. But it was beyond his control to meddle in matters that belonged to his father.
Arion was determined to remain an ambitious son who would fulfill his father's expectations, without inviting his wrath or disappointment.
Upon hearing Arion's words, Isa immediately tightened her grip on Lily's hand. She wouldn't allow any chance for her to escape again.
Indeed, Isa had suspected that Arion was protecting Lily, who had attempted to flee. Nevertheless, pets attempting to escape were not an unprecedented challenge for her.
However, this time, Arion was safeguarding Lily, and Isa had no intention of embarrassing their young alpha.
After all, it was a one-time occurrence. In the future, she wouldn't provide Lily with any opportunities to misbehave.
"Thank you, young Alpha Arion, for chatting with Lily. I will take her back now," Isa said, swiftly leading Lily away as she received a nod of approval from Arion.
As Lily stumbled along, trying to keep up with Isa, she stole a glance back in Arion's direction. Her eyes told a complex story of emotions.
There was resentment towards Arion for foiling her escape, yet there was also a flicker of gratitude for his protective stance.
Arion felt a lump in his throat, his heart heavy with a mixture of emotions as he met Lily's gaze. Her look was a puzzle – he couldn't quite decipher whether she harbored resentment toward him or if there was a glimmer of understanding beneath it all. One thing was clear, though; he desperately wished not to be the object of Lily's hatred.
***
Time line: present
Arion slowly opened his eyes, the remnants of a deep and comfortable slumber still clinging to him. It appeared that his rest had been so sound after the intense pleasures of the night that it had transported him into a dream.
In this reverie, his mind wandered back to that initial encounter with Lily, a time when he was young and blissfully naive.
With a graceful movement, Arion shifted, causing the blanket to slip down, unveiling his upper body. It was a sight to behold, with his torso adorned by eight perfectly defined abdominal muscles and an alluring v-line. His physique was a marvel of balance, neither overly bulky nor too lean, sculpted to perfection.
Glancing to his side, Arion couldn't help but offer a subtle, contented smile as he noticed Lily's lovely head emerging from the covers.
It was clear that the shared moments with Lily had left a profound impact on his disposition. At this very moment, he found himself gazing upon Lily with pure admiration, devoid of the usual traces of bitterness that often accompanied his emotions.
Shaking his head, Arion extended his leg over the edge of the bed and gracefully descended to the floor. Without a single piece of clothing adorning him, he calmly strolled toward the bathroom.
Upon reflection, Arion recalled that he had an unfulfilled promise to Lily—a promise to show her his mother's collection of alligator-skin bags.
"Mother, why make bags from father's alligators? Wouldn't father be angry if his beloved pets had their skins taken by you?" It was a naive question he had posed to his mother when he was still a child. He remembered his mother softly laughing and ruffling his hair as she answered.
"Those alligators are indeed your father's pets, but he doesn't cherish them."
Her response at the time had left him dissatisfied.
Back then, for him, caring for something meant loving it.
So, when his father was in the mansion, and he could find him among the hundreds of days when his father refused to meet him, young Arion immediately rushed to his mother.
She often spent hours inside her display room filled with her collection of bags, and Arion wanted to ask her about what troubled him.
The bags were a sight to behold, displayed in glass cases with soft, radiant lighting that highlighted their intricate details.
There were bags of various sizes and colors, each made from the finest alligator skin. Some were adorned with precious gemstones, while others had elegant, hand-embroidered designs. They were a testament to luxury and opulence, a symbol of his mother's refined taste.
"Mother, you were wrong, right? Father loves his pet alligators, doesn't he?"