A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 119: The Stone’s Secret

[Gale’s POV]

From the first glance at that ostentatious treble clef keychain, my senses had screamed fake. The light refracted off it with a cheap, glassy uniformity, lacking the unique, chaotic fire of true gemstones. I knew Ace, with his princely coffers, wouldn’t have batted an eye at the exorbitant price, fake or not, if Ovelia had shown even a flicker of desire for it. His logic would have been infuriatingly simple: if it makes her smile, it’s worth any amount of gold.

But my attention had snagged on something else entirely. Nestled among the garish, fake-gem musical notes was a single, unassuming hexagon of grey stone. It was dull, pockmarked, and looked more like a piece of rubble than merchandise. The merchant had probably tossed it in as filler. Yet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it. It looked like trash, but a deep, primal instinct in my gut hummed with certainty—this thing was valuable.

I brought my fingers to my chin, tapping them thoughtfully. The merchant was a human, her senses dull. The people around us were absorbed in the festival’s glitter and noise. The risk was minimal. It would be safe to use just a little mana.

I focused, drawing a tiny, precise thread of power from my core and channeling it into my eyes. The world sharpened, colors becoming more vibrant, the auras of living things glowing with soft light. And then I saw it. The dull gray stone, now viewed through mana-sight, pulsed with a faint, trapped, multi-hued light—a swirling, dormant cocktail of elemental auras. A slow, triumphant smile spread across my face. This hexagon stone wasn’t trash; it was a sealed elemental mana stone. A treasure any magic-wielder would kill for.

I looked directly at the merchant, my voice cutting through her haggling with Ace. "I want that one!" I declared, my finger jabbing decisively toward the stone.

"Ha!?" Ann exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and derision. Both Ray and Ace turned to look at me, their expressions a perfect blend of shock and curiosity.

"Are... are you sure you want to buy that?" the merchant asked, her voice layered with genuine surprise and confusion. "It’s a defect. A piece of scrap I found by the river. And honestly, this isn’t even a keychain; it’s definitely just a hexagon stone. There’s not even a hole for a ring."

"If it’s defective, can we have it for free?" Ovelia asked, her tone sweet and innocently pragmatic.

"Sorry, dear, but business is business," the merchant said, shaking her head with a practiced look of regret. She cleared her throat, her eyes darting back to me, sensing an opportunity. "It’s not really for sale, but..." she paused for dramatic effect, "if you’re insisting on buying it—"

"Just say the price already!" I snapped, my impatience fraying. I could feel the stone’s potential humming against my skin, a siren’s call I couldn’t ignore.

"You’re going to scare the poor merchant, Gale," Ray chided, though his voice was laced with amusement.

"Still just as grumpy in his human-sized form," I heard Ann mutter under her breath. I chose to ignore her, my focus entirely on the transaction.

"How... how about 500 spina?!" the merchant blurted out, a hopeful, greedy smile stretching her lips.

"Ha?! Are you joking?" I took a half-step forward, my gray eyes locking onto hers, letting a flicker of my otherworldly nature show in their intensity. "You are the one who called it a worthless defect."

Now she looked properly scared, her bravado evaporating. "Uh, 350?" she backtracked, her voice wavering. "I mean 250?!" I didn’t blink, my gaze unwavering. She swallowed hard. "150 spina! Final offer! Take it or leave it!" she said, trying to inject a final note of confidence into her trembling voice.

I allowed a small, tight smile to touch my lips. "Now that," I said, "is what I call a negotiation. It’s a deal."

"Negotiate? You just terrified her into submission," Ace observed dryly, adjusting his glasses.

"That is my way of negotiating," I retorted, not an ounce of shame in my voice. The merchant, looking immensely relieved, hastily handed me the cool, smooth hexagon of stone.

I turned it over in my palm. It was solid, heavy for its size, and as she’d said, there was no hole drilled through it. It was simply a perfect, if rough-hewn, hexagon. I looked pointedly at Ace.

"Now, Ace, pay for it," I said, holding his gaze.

"Ha?" he replied, his eyebrows rising behind his spectacles. "You’re the one who wanted that piece of rubble. You pay for it."

This miserly mutt. Did I look like I carried a coin purse?

"Ace?!" the merchant gasped, her eyes widening as she looked between us. "As in Ace Draven?" Before Ace could formulate a response, she barreled on, talking herself out of her own realization. "No, it must be a coincidence. Just someone with the same name. There’s no way the Second Prince of the Silverhowl Kingdom would look... I mean, dress... like that." She gestured vaguely at his simple, travel-worn tunic and scholarly disguise.

That did it. The four of us—Ray, Ovelia, Ann, and I—exchanged a single glance, and a wave of suppressed laughter hit us simultaneously. Ray let out a choked cough, Ovelia pressed her lips together, her shoulders shaking, Ann turned away with a hand over her mouth, and I couldn’t stop a sharp, amused bark of laughter from escaping.

Ace’s jaw tightened. Without another word, he pulled a small leather pouch from his belt, counted out exactly 150 spina in silver coins, and placed them on the counter with a definitive clink. "We’re done here, right? Let’s go." He turned on his heel and began striding away, his posture stiff with affronted dignity.

"Wait for us, Ace!" Ovelia called out, her voice still trembling with laughter. He immediately slowed his pace, though he didn’t look back.

Ray paused before following. He looked at the merchant, his expression no longer amused but solemn. "Remember this," he said, his voice low and carrying a weight of authority that his monocle couldn’t diminish. "The true value of a business is not measured in its profits, but in the trust it earns." He held her gaze for a moment longer, then turned and walked away.

I saw the merchant’s face change. The greed and fear melted away, replaced by a look of genuine, thoughtful shame. She bowed her head deeply, not in fear this time, but in respect.

I didn’t linger. Clutching the stone tightly in my fist, I hurried after the others, my heart beating with a thrilling anticipation. The festival, the crowds, the noise—it all faded into a dull buzz. All that mattered was the dormant power resting against my skin.

Now, I thought, a thrill coursing through me, it’s time to unseal this elemental mana stone.