Estelle’s POV

Everyone gasped and turned around. Shoppers rushed toward the fallen figure, phones already out and cameras flashing.

Asher immediately dropped everything and rushed to Hazel’s side. His shopping bags scattered across the marble floor, forgotten.

“Hazel!” He knelt beside her, shaking her shoulders gently. “Hazel, wake up!”

She lay motionless, her sunglasses askew and scarf pooling around her head. Her face was pale, almost gray.

When Asher noticed the crowd gathering and cameras pointed in their direction, he quickly repositioned himself to shield Hazel from view. His broad shoulders blocked most of the photographers, but I could still hear the rapid clicking of phone cameras.

“Give her some space!” he barked at the crowd.

I stood back and watched the scene unfold. Part of me wondered if this was another one of Hazel’s dramatic performances. She certainly had a flair for timing.

But as I observed Asher’s panicked movements, his genuine terror, I realized something else entirely.

When the time came for it, Asher would still show his true colors.

No matter how much he claimed to love me and need me, between Hazel and me, he would always pick her. The evidence was right in front of everyone to see.

He scooped Hazel up in his arms, cradling her against his chest like a bride. Her head lolled against his shoulder as he straightened up.

“I need to get her to a healer,” he announced to no one in particular.

He didn’t spare me a single glance as he rushed toward the store exit. The crowd parted to let him through, whispers following in his wake.

I couldn’t really fault him for his choice. The bond and pull between fated mates couldn’t be controlled. Biology was biology.

What I resented was the fact that he kept lying to me. He took me for a fool who would always return to him without question, no matter how badly he treated me.

The sales assistants approached me hesitantly, gesturing toward the scattered shopping bags Asher had abandoned.

“Miss, what should we do with these?” one of them asked. “The gentleman left them behind.”

I stared at the expensive bags littering the floor. Those designer clothes, jewelry, and shoes were purchased with money that should have gone to pack expenses.

“I don’t want them,” I said flatly.

The assistants exchanged uncertain looks.

“Bring the ones with receipts back to customer service,” I continued. “Ask for a cash refund to pay for the tie that was damaged earlier. As for the rest, handle them however you see fit.”

They nodded quickly and began gathering the abandoned purchases.

I collected my own small bag containing the tie, cufflinks, and earrings I’d bought. At least my shopping trip hadn’t been completely wasted.

As I walked out of the store, I nearly collided with someone entering.

“Estelle!” Caleb’s familiar voice greeted me. “What took you so long? Edmund sent me to check on you.”

I looked up at his concerned face. “I ran into a familiar face.”

His expression immediately darkened. He studied my features, taking in whatever he saw there.

“Let me guess,” he said grimly. “Alpha Asher from Moonveil?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “How did you know?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he replied with a wry smile.

We both laughed, the tension easing from my shoulders. Caleb had a way of making everything feel lighter.

“Come on,” he said. “The others are getting worried. Edmund’s already ordered appetizers.”

As we walked toward the restaurant, I pulled out my phone and composed a quick message to Zayne.

[Do you have time tomorrow evening? I’d like to have dinner with you.]

I hit send before I could second-guess myself.

The restaurant was warm and inviting when we entered. Our group had claimed a large round table near the back, and I could hear their familiar voices before I saw them.

“Finally!” River called out as he spotted us. “We were starting to think you’d been kidnapped. You didn’t answer any of our calls.”

I slid into the empty chair they’d saved for me. “Sorry, I didn’t check my phone. I ran into Asher.”

The mood at the table shifted instantly. Edmund’s fork froze halfway to his mouth. Juliet’s smile vanished. Bosco and Velma exchanged dark looks.

They all looked like they’d bitten into a lemon.

“Well, that explains everything,” Velma said, signaling the waiter. “We need drinks. Strong ones. Got to chase away the bad aura that man brings wherever he goes.”

I nodded, smiling in agreement.

***

Third POV

The monthly council meeting dragged on longer than usual.

Zayne had tuned out about half an hour ago when the lords began to argue about petty squabbles between their houses. He found better use for his time reviewing the reports about their territory’s safety reviews.

All of a sudden, his phone buzzed against the mahogany table. Zayne picked it up to see that it was a message from Estelle.

[Do you have time tomorrow evening? I’d like to have dinner with you.]

The request caught Zayne off guard. It was rare for Estelle to initiate a meeting.

He looked up at Mason, who was taking notes of the meeting. Unlike Zayne, he had listened to every last boring detail dutifully, just in case something important popped up. Zayne had warned him before that more often than not, there would be nothing worthwhile, but Mason said it was better to be careful than sorry.

“Mason.”

Mason looked up. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Clear my schedule for tomorrow evening,” Zayne said.

The room suddenly fell silent. All eyes turned to Zayne in surprise.

Mason nodded without question, but the council members began shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

He frowned. “What is it?”

“Tomorrow...” Several lords exchanged glances.

“Your Majesty...” In the end, it was Edgar Vurbont who spoke. “Well... There’s a celebration held in your honor tomorrow.”

“A celebration?” Zayne raised an eyebrow. “Is there something significant about tomorrow?”

This time, Mason slapped a hand to his own forehead. Zayne watched him from the corner of his eye.

“Well...” They all exchanged a look. Even Mason had leaned back against the backrest for the first time since the meeting started, calmly sipping on a glass of water. “It’s just... tomorrow...”

“Speak plainly,” I ordered, my patience wearing thin.

Finally, Mason sighed. He couldn’t stand watching this bunch of idiots make a fool of themselves any longer.

“Your Majesty, it’s your birthday,” he flatly said.

Edgar Vurbont nodded. His lips were pale, and there was a thin layer of sweat that had gathered across his forehead. “Yes, yes. That’s right,” he said. “The palace is hosting a dinner tomorrow evening in your honor.”