The Central night market was a riot of noise, colour, and smells that seemed to assault the senses from every direction.

Kira moved through the throng, her eyes dancing as she took in the flickering fairy lights and the steam rising from various food stalls. Behind her, Derek followed like a dark cloud attempting to navigate a summer festival.

He couldn’t believe that her idea of having an evening fun was coming to a messy, crowded human night market.

In his casual dark tee and trousers, he looked less like a king and more like a very dangerous man trying and failing to blend in. He kept his shoulders stiff, his gaze darting around as if expecting an assassin to leap out from behind a pile of knock-off designer handbags.

"This is madness," Derek grumbled, and dodged a group of teenagers and nearly collided with a man carrying a stack of plastic crates.

"Remind me once again what we’re doing in a human market? This crowd is suffocating, and the noise is intolerable."

Kira laughed and turned to look at him. She reached back, grabbing his wrist to pull him deeper into the fray.

"It’s called having fun, Derek! It’s a bazaar. Jessica and I used to come here all the time. You can find the most amazing things if you look hard enough, and everything is so much cheaper than in the city boutiques and stores."

Derek’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "Why on earth do we need ’cheap’ things? We are royalty. I could buy every stall in this square and have it delivered to the palace by midnight if you desired a particular trinket."

Kira rolled her eyes, though a small, fond smile tugged at her lips.

"That’s not the point, you over-privileged wolf. It’s a type of charity, for one—supporting local vendors. But the real fun is in the mingling. Look at the displays! Enjoy the life happening around you. Not everything has to be a tactical mission."

As they brushed past a stall draped in vibrant, hand-woven scarves, a young woman reached out and grabbed Derek’s hand to pull him towards her display.

"Sir! Beautiful silks for your lady? Just touch the quality!"

Derek’s Lycan reflexes, honed by years of combat and paranoia, snapped into place. His claws slid out a fraction, as he spun.

A low growl rolled out of his chest as he glared down at the woman with eyes that had gone gold at the edges.

The vendor let out a horrified shriek, dropping her clothes and diving behind her wooden counter as if she were under fire.

"Derek! Stop it!" Kira hissed and grabbed his arm, her small hands looking pale against his dark tee. She forcibly dragged him toward a quiet, dimly lit alleyway at the edge of the market.

Once they were tucked away from the crowdy and noisy place, she let go of him and turned around, her chest heaving with indignation. She glared at him, her hands on her hips.

"What is wrong with you? "Are you trying to scare these poor humans out of their own market?" she demanded. "She was just trying to sell you a scarf, not take your head off!"

Derek eye changed slowly, his chest still heaving as the adrenaline of the ’attack’ ebbed away. He looked at her, his jaw set in a hard line.

"The woman touched me without warning," he said flatly. "My reflexes do not distinguish between a silk merchant and a threat. It is a biological response."

Truth was that his senses were on high alert. Part of him, the cold, calculating King, whispered that this was a trap. She knew these streets; he didn’t. What if she had lured him here to an ambush?

"And why are you taking another person’s side? I am your husband. You should take my side," he said with mock rage.

Kira stared silently at him for a moment, taking in his face hidden behind that hat.

Annoyingly cute, she thought to herself. Truly, infuriatingly cute.

She couldn’t even bring herself to get truly mad at him. The casual clothing softened his harsh edges, making him look less like a distant monarch and more like a man who just wanted to be understood.

She blew out a breath. "Derek, it’s a market," she said softly. "These people are vendors. Their entire job is to reach out and grab your attention. They will touch your sleeve, your hand, your shoulder. They will pull you towards their stalls. That is the whole structure of how this works."

She gestured at his outfit. "This is exactly why I made you wear something this casual. So you would blend in. So you would not stand here scowling like a thundercloud and frighten everyone back into their houses."

Derek said nothing.

She sighed, and looked at the exit of the alleyway, then back at him.

"Look. If this place isn’t your thing, that is genuinely fine. Let’s just leave. We can go somewhere else. Somewhere you’re more comfortable."

Derek remained silent. His logical mind screaming: Get out of here! Telling him that she was Moonfang born, capable, and that her father had taught her how to set people up. The thought rose, uninvited and unkind, and he hated himself a little for letting it surface.

But as he looked at her, seeing the genuine disappointment in her eyes, another part of him took over.

"Does this place really make you happy?" he asked abruptly.

Kira blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. "Does it matter?"

"Answer me," he insisted, his voice low and firm. "Tell me how you feel."

Kira sighed, leaning back against the brick wall. "Yes, Derek. It makes me happy. I like the energy, the smells, the feeling of being part of the world. I like being part of something that isn’t a luxury decor or a high-end ball. I like having fun."

Derek nodded once, slowly.

"Then why should we leave? I just realised I like the thrill this place offers, too," he said, his voice surprisingly soft. "We will stay."

Kira’s whole face lit up.

"But you have to promise," he continued, "to stay close to me. By my side. The whole time."

He had not even finished the sentence before Kira made a sound that was half squeal and half laugh, launched herself at him, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

Before he could even process the movement, she was peppering his face with quick, ecstatic kisses; on his jaw, his cheek, his nose.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she chirped.

Derek was caught completely off guard, his arms hovering in the air for a second before his instincts took over. He caught her firmly, his large hands anchoring her against his chest as if she were the only solid thing in a shifting world.

Something squeezed his heart at the sheer, unguarded happiness pouring out of her. It was infectious.

This cannot be faked, he thought quietly, and the thought settled somewhere deep in his chest. Whatever else she is, she is not pretending this.

He had spent so many years suspicious of every softness from his rivals. He had been trained, by his own pain, to look for the knife behind every smile. But standing here in a noisy market with a woman pressing kisses against his cheek because he had agreed to stay with her, that voice inside him went very quiet.

He resolved right then to trust his beast’s judgement for once. He would loosen the iron grip he kept on himself, just for tonight. For her.

Realising what she was doing, Kira’s eyes went wide. She scrambled down, her face was flushed a deep, rosy pink.

"Oh! I... I’m sorry," she stammered, smoothing down her jumper and looking everywhere but at him. "I forgot. You hate people touching you. I just got excited."

Derek’s hand caught hers before she could fully step away, and his fingers slid between hers, locking them together properly.

"I did not say I hated it," he said quietly. "I said do not touch me without warning."

Kira looked down at their joined hands, then up at him, a playful smirk beginning to form. "Oh? So I should give you a formal warning next time? ’Attention, Your Grace, I am about to hug you’?"

She tilted her head. "Or are your reflexes just selective? Because you literally almost bit that poor woman’s head off for doing exactly what I just did."

A small smile touched the corner of Derek’s mouth as they began to walk back into the market together, his hand firm around hers.

"Sometimes," he murmured, his thumb grazing the back of her hand, "my reflexes are selective with special people."

Kira’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at his profile, biting back her own smile. "So, am I among these special people?"

Derek didn’t answer immediately. He looked up at the sky, where the slim crescent moon had just begun to peek between the rooftops, casting a soft glow over the world. He let out a long, slow breath.

"We’ll see."