Alpha’s Pink Luna

Chapter 8: Alpha Prince Callum Bushida

The Queen Mother’s curious gaze slid toward me. “To whom did you direct your words, Mishka?”

It took me a moment to realize she was speaking to me—and even longer to realize I’d spoken out loud. My throat went dry. Great. Another royal disaster.

“Honestly,” I said nervously, forcing a weak smile, “that was a bit of a reply for everyone. Since Prince Carter spoke last, and at the same time both you and Rose were talking, I just… thought it would be more respectful to speak out. My apologies for speaking out of line.”

The words slipped out smoother than they had any right to. I wasn’t even sure how I’d said them so naturally. The Queen Mother’s expression softened, and then she smiled—a genuine, wide smile that made my pulse skip.

Rose chuckled in my head, clearly proud of herself.

‘You speak similar to our time thanks to my help. Don’t worry, nobody can pick it up unless they’re really listening. And if they are—trust me, everyone’s faking it here today, so you’re not alone.’

I let out a quiet breath of relief just as the Queen leaned in, her voice cheerful but hushed enough to keep the surrounding royals from eavesdropping.

“There are many here today,” she whispered.

Rose’s tone turned quick and sharp.

‘Yes. Most of them work for the king to maintain his image, others are relatives hoping to gain from proximity. Focus only on those the Queen introduces you to. Including Carter.’

That last part made me blink. “Including Prince Carter?” I asked before I could stop myself.

The Queen Mother laughed softly, her glittering gown shimmering with each breath. “Truthfully, he is a wonderful young man,” she admitted. “But yes, I apologize for not mentioning him properly. He is, after all, the second prince who asked to marry you—just to irritate Prince Cassian, however after today he is definitely interested.”

Her laugh was so genuine that I couldn’t help smiling too, imagining Cassian’s cold glare while Carter grinned in triumph.

As we walked further, the hum of conversation and the distant notes of a new melody filled the hall. My nerves began to calm—until the Queen stopped beside a tall man in a perfectly cut jacket.

“Well, my dear,” she said brightly, “you’ve met the most not charming prince, and the most mischievous one. Now it’s time to meet the prince who makes every princess question her choice of attire.”

I frowned, unsure if that was meant as a compliment or a warning.

She clapped her hands lightly. “And here we have our most handsome prince—Prince Callum Bushida!”

The man turned, and for a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe for a second time.

Callum Bushida looked like sin wrapped in silk. His brown hair caught the light with soft gold undertones, his skin was a warm bronze tan, and his green eyes glimmered with a quiet, clever depth. His build was lean but strong, a scholar’s body with a fighter’s posture. He wore purple slacks and a crisp white shirt, paired with a gold-trimmed jacket that reached his ankles that shimmered faintly when he moved. Even his shoes—polished gold—looked scandalously good on him.

He was the kind of man you could get lost in without realizing you were falling.

Rose hummed approvingly. ‘Romantic genius and a nerd, that one. Self-conscious about his looks but deadly smart. Hates showing off, though his lazy, cocky wolf does enough of that for him.’

Callum stepped forward, his gaze fixed on me as he bowed low, his lips brushing my knuckles. And maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just him, but the moment his lips touched my skin, my thoughts derailed completely.

Eye contact. Smile. Don’t drool.

The Queen Mother’s voice snapped me back before my imagination got me exiled. “Prince Callum Bushida of the Bushida Shadow Paws Pack,” she announced proudly. “The strongest pack in the Moon Lands—known for its weapon designs and their distribution.”

Weapons.

He made weapons.

And from the way he held my hand, I was beginning to think he was one too.

Rose whistled in my mind. ‘Deadly and brilliant? Careful, Mishka… he’ll kill you with kindness—or curiosity.’

And as Callum’s lips lingered just a little longer on my hand, I realized she might actually be right.

Letting go of my hand, Prince Callum straightened, his posture elegant yet deliberate, and spoke in a tone that felt like silk hiding a blade.

“It is a pleasure to meet the lady in red of this beautiful event,” he said, his voice deep, steady, and full of quiet allure. Then he turned to the Queen Mother, taking her hand with equal reverence and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “And alongside the moon herself for a Queen—it is a delight to be in both your presences this lovely afternoon.”

I swear, I nearly melted on the spot. My pulse fluttered; the air around him felt warmer. Every word from his lips made me want to forget my name and climb him right there in front of everyone.

The Queen Mother giggled—a sound that felt far too youthful for her station—and took a step closer to him. Her hand found my arm, tugging me gently forward so that we stood together before the handsome prince. Her voice lowered to a mischievous whisper that only he and I could hear.

“Now you set your aim at the lady in red, Prince of beauty,” she teased, a spark of amusement in her tone. “I’ll return later to escort her to the last, but deadliest, prince.”

The change in Callum’s face was instant. The warmth drained away, replaced by a dark, cold edge that rippled through the air like the growl of a storm. His lips pulled back in a restrained snarl, and a low, guttural growl escaped him—quiet, but powerful enough to turn heads.

Around us, several nobles paused. I caught sight of Carter and Cassian moving toward us from opposite sides of the ballroom, both wearing matching looks of curiosity—and annoyance.

Truthfully, I was just as confused.

Rose’s voice filled my mind, sharp but calm.

‘I’ll tell you, but stay composed. The last prince—the one she’s mentioned—declared his intent to marry you solely for the sake of alliance. He doesn’t want you, Mishka. He might even despise the person you’ve become. That’s one of the why Callum reacted—he doesn’t trust him.’

Her words made my heart thump harder. Despise me? Why?

Without thinking, I let my eyes wander across the ballroom, scanning the faces for any hint of this mysterious final suitor.

Rose’s tone snapped, irritated.

‘Stop looking for him! The last prince is… complicated. A prince by miracle, really. Everyone here tonight is a werewolf—but not him. He’s a Lycan, the only one left of his kind besides you and me that have a fur coat with eyes of the same pink tone.’

My eyes widened. A Lycan. That changed everything.

Before I could ask more, Callum sighed, clearly trying to regain control of his composure. He stepped forward and extended his left hand to me, his right resting behind his back in perfect formality.

“I would love to have a stroll with Princess Mishka,” he said softly, his tone once again smooth and composed. “If she allows me?”

I looked to the Queen Mother, uncertain. She met my gaze with a knowing smile. “No more than an hour, Prince Callum.”

He nodded respectfully, and I hesitated only a moment before placing my hand in his. His grip was warm and steady as he led me toward the open balcony doors.

As we walked, the crowd subtly shifted around us. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed several small figures darting between guests—tiny people, no taller than my knees, their silver eyes glowing faintly.

Pumskies.

Rose’s tone was serious now.

‘They’ve been ordered to watch you. Don’t underestimate them, Mishka. Their bites carry traces of wolfsbane in their saliva. One nip and even I couldn’t protect you.’

I swallowed hard as we stepped into the cool night air. The castle lights flickered behind us, and for the first time that afternoon, I realized how fragile my position truly was.

I wasn’t just dancing anymore.

I was walking straight into the heart of danger—hand in hand with a man who might just be my most dangerous suitor yet.

Following behind Callum, I watched the tall glass double doors swing open to reveal a grand garden bathed in moonlight. Roses, lilies, and tulips painted the space in mesmerizing shades of red and blue. The air was cool, laced with the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine.

We walked down a cobblestone path lined with glowing lanterns, and though Callum’s hand brushed against mine, his grip was hesitant—like a man holding back the instinct to touch what he shouldn’t. I, on the other hand, was fighting the opposite urge. The flowers were impossibly vivid, almost glowing, and I wanted nothing more than to get closer.

Apparently, that small lean toward a bush of crimson roses was a mistake.

“Please,” Callum said, his tone clipped but polite, “calm your steps, Princess.” His eyes softened slightly, though the frustration lingered in his voice. “If I touch any plant, it will die. I have no such luck in growing life—only in forging destruction. Creation for me lies in weapons and strategies, not beauty that’s not my own skin and beauty.”

I blinked, surprised by the rawness of his confession.

He continued, lowering his voice. “More importantly, I asked to speak with you privately. I prefer truth in conversation, not more rumors for the court to feed on. Please, follow my lead.”

With that, his stride quickened. His jacket flared behind him, catching the light, and for a fleeting moment he looked like a war god walking through the night—powerful, composed, beautiful without a fault, and terrifyingly untouchable.

We stopped at the center of the garden, where tall trees formed a perfect heart-shaped canopy. Beneath it sat a delicate white table surrounded by blooming red irises, as if the moon itself had chosen this spot for secrets to be whispered.

Callum gestured for me to sit. When I did, he joined me, resting his hands on the table with a kind of stillness that made even the wind hesitate. His eyes fixed on mine—not amused, not cold, but calculating, like a scholar dissecting an unsolved equation.

“I’m not one for pretense,” he said finally. “This dance of alliances and royal masks exhausts me. I wanted to see what kind of woman you truly are—beyond the rumors, beyond your titles, and beyond the others who claim to know you.”

Rose stirred in my mind, her tone curious but cautious.

‘Careful, Mishka. He’s not flirting—he’s evaluating. His wolf is the quiet kind that kills without warning.’

Callum leaned slightly forward, his green eyes glinting under the silver light.

“I deal in precision, Princess. In war, trade, and even emotion. You intrigue me because I can’t read you… and I hate what I can’t understand.”

My breath caught. Between his words and the shadows shifting in his gaze, I realized something terrifying—

Prince Callum Bushida might have been the most dangerous of them all.

Something about the way Callum studied me made my skin crawl—in that thrilling, dangerous way. He wasn’t flirting; he was analyzing me like I was a puzzle he refused to leave unsolved.

It reminded me of someone from my old life—an ex who used to do the exact same thing. Always watching, always reading me like a story he’d already finished, waiting for me to slip up and prove him right.

Except with Callum, I wasn’t planning to make it easy.

If he wanted to dissect me, I’d make sure he had to work for every answer.

‘Oh, I like that tone,’ Rose purred. ‘You’re learning how to play the game properly, little one.’

A small, mischievous smile tugged at my lips as I met Callum’s gaze. “You seem like a man who likes precision,” I said lightly, resting my elbows on the table. “How about we make this interesting?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting how?”

“A game,” I said, leaning closer just enough to keep his attention fixed. “Twenty questions. You ask one, then I ask one. No lying. Whoever slips up owes the other… a secret.”

His expression didn’t change at first—he simply tilted his head, studying me again. Then that slow, knowing smile spread across his face, the kind that made my stomach twist.

“A game of truth,” he murmured. “Deceptively simple. Dangerous, too.”

“Only if you’re bad at hiding things,” I teased.

He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and rich. “Very well, Princess Mishka,” he said, sitting back and folding his hands. “You have my attention. Let’s see which one of us can lie without words.”

Rose’s voice hummed through my thoughts, equal parts excitement and warning.

‘Careful now. You’re playing with a man who creates weapons for a living.’

I smiled anyway. So what? I’d been reborn in a world full of killers, kings, and wolves. It was time I learned how to play like one.