"I’m even trying to learn from him," he said as he drew Brooklyn closer to his chest. They all laughed. But even in the laughter, her gaze lingered on Ken a second too long... as though something unspoken had already begun to weigh on her chest.

Having confirmed that everything was fine between them, she left the chamber and joined her mate in his chamber.

He was on the device when she entered. She joined him on the bed and relaxed on his chest. She looked around for one of his wireless receivers and fixed it on her ear.

"Mother, everything is fine," he said calmly.

There was a sharp breath on the other end, then it broke.

"Brandon, everything is not!" her voice rose, edged with strain. "Your father was awake all through the moonfall. Something is seriously bothering him!"

A faint pause followed... as if he was waiting for her to say something more.

Brandon’s expression didn’t change, but concern deepened in his eyes.

"Relax your mind, Mother," he replied, quieter now, controlled.

And for a moment, the silence that came after felt heavier than her worry.

"Emma and I will be traveling to Paris next Saturday for her mating shopping. I knew she wouldn’t like the things I bought for Lunara... would you rather take her?"

"I’ll talk to her first and get back to you."

"Alright, please do not forget our appointment."

"I won’t," Brandon responded and she hung up. He turned and looked at Emma. She understood the question he asked with his eyes and shook her head.

"I’ll go with her," he responded and she shrugged.

"Alright," she said, before the line clicked dead.

"We need to convince the king before the mating shopping. I love Brandon Oliver, but I want to get mated to Moon Prince Brandon Oliver Frostbane, the future alpha of Santorini kingdom and before the entire packland."

"I have an appointment with the high Luna on Wednesday and I’ll see him too."

"I’ll go with you."

"Okay."

Bernard came into the chamber with her breakfast. She sniffed and felt like vomiting already.

"Moonheart no, you must eat," Brandon grinned and brought the food closer.

"Starlit... I can’t," she murmured, her face tightening as she pressed a hand lightly to her belly. "I already feel like I’m going to be sick. Please... take it away."

He quickly pushed the food aside, studying her for a beat as concern slipped into his gaze and his voice softened.

"What do you think you can manage?"

"I want... A5 Wagyu steak," she said slowly, as though testing the weight of the words on her tongue. Her fingers curled lightly over her stomach, her brows knitting for a fleeting second before she added, almost more firmly, "And black truffle pasta for dinner."

He didn’t question her. Not even a flicker of hesitation.

Brandon only held her gaze for a quiet beat, something unreadable settling in his eyes before he reached for his device and made a brief call, his voice low, decisive, leaving no space for delay.

Within minutes, the doors opened.

The rich aroma arrived before the dishes did, warm, decadent, almost overwhelming. The steak, perfectly seared, glistened under soft light; the truffle pasta followed, its scent deep and intoxicating, curling into the air like a quiet promise.

She stared at it. Not moving.

A strange silence wrapped around her as her throat tightened. This... this wasn’t what she wanted. Not really.

Her fingers shifted against her dress, pressing faintly into the fabric as the thought returned, quiet, insistent. It lingered beneath her composure, refusing to fade. She told herself it was nothing... just a fleeting curiosity.

Just a desire to see. To feel.

Nothing more.

A memory surfaced, uninvited.

A mother from her old pack... heavily pregnant, eyes softened with longing as she spoke about A5 Wagyu steak, something so far out of reach it had almost felt unreal.

Her mate had tried. Truly tried.

But in the end, all he could offer were quiet apologies... and empty hands.

She remembered the smile that followed anyway, small, controlled, and carefully composed, as though it had been practiced for moments like that, when feeling too much was not permitted. As if it didn’t matter at all.

Her chest tightened.

Now here she was... seated before the very thing that had once seemed impossible, summoned in minutes, placed before her without effort, without struggle.

Because Brandon could—because Brandon always would.

Her gaze drifted toward him, lingering just a moment longer than she intended. Something unspoken softened her eyes, quiet and uncertain. Gratitude was there, unmistakable... but it did not stand alone. Beneath it lay something deeper, heavier—an emotion without a name, yet impossible to ignore. It pressed gently against her chest, steady and insistent, as though waiting for her to understand it.

He had given it to her without question.

And suddenly... she wasn’t sure if she could take a single bite. Her throat constricted again, not from hunger, but from something she couldn’t name.

***********

At noon, Brooklyn changed quickly, her fingers restless as she adjusted her dress for the third time.

Emma said nothing about Ken or Brandon’s surprise.

Only curiosity lingered in Brooklyn’s eyes as she stepped out, like she was walking toward something she wasn’t fully ready to see.

"I’m nervous."

"Why?"

"I’ve been calling my mother since moonrise," she murmured, staring at her device again.

Still nothing.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, unsure whether to try again or stop hoping.

"Is she aware we are coming?"

"Yes, I just wanted to remind her," she said, and continued dialing her mother’s number.

"What did Ken say to you?"

"He wanted to apologize, but I stopped him instantly. Emma, Ken is just so good and kind," she said as she tossed her device aside.

"But it seems... he wants intimacy often," she added, her voice dipping slightly at the end as if testing how it sounded aloud. Her lips pressed together right after, a faint crease forming between her brows as she looked away, suddenly aware of her own words.

Emma blinked, then suddenly burst into laughter.

It came quick and unrestrained, her shoulders shaking as she leaned back slightly, clearly amused. The sound filled the car, bright and unexpected.

Brooklyn turned to her, brows drawing together in surprise, a hint of disbelief crossing her face.

"Why are you laughing?" she asked, her tone edged with mild confusion. "I’m being serious."

Emma wiped the corner of her eye, still smiling, but there was something unreadable beneath her amusement, like she wasn’t saying everything she knew.

Emma tried to compose herself, but another soft laugh slipped through as she waved a hand lightly.

"How many times did you two...?" she asked, tilting her head with a knowing look, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Brooklyn hesitated.

Her lips parted, then closed again as if she briefly reconsidered answering. A faint flush crept up her neck before she finally spoke, her voice quieter this time.

"Just twice," she admitted. "Last moonfall... and before dawn."

A small pause followed, her gaze narrowing slightly as she studied Emma.

"Why do you ask?"

Emma’s smile widened, slow, teasing, almost triumphant.

"Mine was countless," she said without a trace of embarrassment, lifting her chin just a little. "And I’m not complaining."

She leaned in slightly, her voice dipping into something more playful.

"I trust you won’t deprive him of your closeness..."

Brooklyn stared at her for a second, then huffed softly, shaking her head as the tension eased from her shoulders.

"I’ll try," she said, cutting in with a teasing note, though the corner of her lips betrayed a reluctant smile.

For a brief moment, the weight of everything else faded... leaving only their laughter lingering in the air.

"When is he going back to England?"

"Next week," she mumbled and looked away. Emma noticed she missed him already.

"Don’t worry, he will always come and see you," she teased, because she knew Ken wouldn’t go without her and as for her parents, she planned to bring them closer to her estate.

The chauffeur pulled over in front of Brooklyn’s house and they alighted. It was Sunday and her neighbors were all at home. Emma looked around and saw wolves staring at them through their windows. She looked at Brooklyn’s house and noticed that all the windows were locked. Her heart skipped and her head spun. Brooklyn and she exchanged glances and began to walk silently toward the entrance.

They opened the door and were welcomed by an empty house. Brooklyn climbed the stairs hurriedly and Emma ran after her. Not even a pin was in the house. She searched her bag and remembered she had left it in the car.

The silence inside wasn’t normal. It felt... emptied. Like the house had been stripped of breath itself.

She turned to leave the place,

but something about the silence made her pause halfway.

However, a figure who stood like a ghost at the door made them shudder.

Brooklyn froze mid-step.

Her instincts reacted before her mind did.

"Oh my moon goddess!" She screamed.

"Hi, Brooklyn," he said with a smile. She was more frightened than Emma and couldn’t return his smile.

Because something in his presence already felt wrong.