Alpha’s Pink Luna

Chapter 7: Alpha Prince Carter Ritz

Playing chess with Cassian turned out to be harder than I’d expected. Every move I made felt like a test, every glance from him a calculated study of my reactions. He played like someone who didn’t just want to win — he expected to.

And he almost did.

Until I saw an opening on the f7 square. My queen and bishop aligned in perfect attack formation by pure accident, seeing my shot. I moved quickly, surprising even myself.

Cassian’s green eyes flicked to the board, then to me. For the first time, he looked caught off guard.

The silence between us stretched, tense and electric — until a cheerful, musical voice cut through it like a spotlight at the worst possible moment.

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, you actually won!”

I turned, startled, to find a tall man leaning lazily against the nearest column. His hair was straight and black, cropped short, and his warm brown eyes sparkled with mischief. His tanned skin was traced with ink—tattoos coiling down his arms like stories written in code.

He wore a long brown button-up shirt patterned with darker symbols, one button teasingly undone, paired with white corset-style jacket and matching slacks. Rings glimmered on nearly every finger, and a silver chain hung loosely around his neck.

He looked like trouble—and he knew it.

“With a smile like that,” he said, bowing theatrically, “you could write history books. Beating Prince Cassian Gonzales at chess? That’s one for the archives!”

Cassian growled low, the sound sharp and dangerous. Standing abruptly, he shot the stranger a glare so dark it could curdle milk.

“May you zip your tweet and bleed from it too, Prince Carter Ritz,” he snapped. Then he turned and walked away, the air behind him practically sparking with irritation.

I stayed seated, caught between amusement and secondhand embarrassment.

‘Oh my,’ Rose purred, her voice low and teasing. ‘A clumsy black wolf who likes to pick fights… no wonder his human matches him.’

I blinked as a hand appeared before me, fingers long and tattooed.

Carter grinned, offering it. “Don’t mind him, Princess. Cassian’s allergic to losing.”

I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. His touch was surprisingly gentle for someone with such a bold presence.

“I’m Prince Carter Ritz,” he said, flashing a smile that could have powered an entire kingdom. “From the Ritz Howl Pack — largest food distributor in the realm.”

Something mischievous took over me before I could stop it. “So you came fully stocked to distribute that sausage in your pants, or are you always this friendly?”

For a heartbeat, there was silence—then Carter threw his head back and laughed, a bright, unrestrained sound that filled the entire hall.

I couldn’t help it. I smiled too.

Rose hummed approvingly in my mind. ‘Well, well. Maybe this one’s not all bad.’

Carter’s laughter echoed through the grand ballroom as he tugged me toward the music. The sound of violins and drums filled the air, the rhythm wild and joyful, perfectly matching his reckless energy.

Before I could catch my breath, he twirled me around the shining marble floor. My skirts flared, the chandeliers above turning into dizzy rings of light. I barely had time to squeal before he pulled me back—hard.

I collided with him, my body pressing against his solid chest. His laughter only deepened as my hands instinctively gripped his shoulders for balance. He was all heat and motion, and every muscle I touched was firm, unyielding.

Rose’s voice slinked into my mind, purring with wicked amusement.

‘Largest food distributor indeed.’

I bit my lip to stop from laughing, though a giggle still escaped me. Between my dizziness and the warmth spreading through my skin, it was impossible to tell if I was more flustered or entertained.

When Carter finally slowed, he kept me close—one hand still holding mine, the other resting confidently at my hip. His breath brushed against my cheek as he grinned, eyes gleaming like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Let’s get to know each other a little more… intense and intimate, for a change,” he murmured, his tone playful yet daring. “What do you say, Princess?”

I gulped, every nerve in my body screaming dangerous, but my heart was too busy sprinting laps to listen. I’d always had two left feet when I was human, and the thought of stepping on a prince’s toes in front of half a court was the definition of mortifying.

Rose chuckled softly in my mind.

‘Relax, little one. If you fall, he’ll make sure to catch you… twice, just to show off.’

I exhaled shakily, meeting his gaze.

“Oh, this is going to be a disaster,” I whispered under my breath.

Carter only smiled wider. “Then it’ll be my favorite kind.”

Carter flashed a dazzling grin and snapped his fingers toward the musicians.

“We dance the tango, young Princess!”

The musicians exchanged quick glances, and within seconds, the melody shifted — the gentle waltz replaced by the deep, sultry rhythm of the tango. Drums and violins intertwined in a heartbeat of passion, and before I could even object, Carter swept me into the center of the ballroom like he owned it.

He moved like liquid fire — confident, smooth, every motion deliberate yet effortless. His steps slid across the marble floor with the grace of a born dancer, his hips rolling slightly in rhythm, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes never leaving mine. Even the way he turned me was hypnotic, his fingers tracing the small of my back as if guiding both the music and my pulse.

And me?

I was barely surviving.

Every time he spun me, I stumbled; every time he pulled me close, I forgot which foot belonged to me. My heels squeaked, my skirt twisted, and at one point I nearly tangoed straight into a pillar.

Carter only laughed, catching me before I could embarrass myself further.

“Careful, Princess,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to my ear. “You’re supposed to dance with me, not wrestle me.”

“I’m trying!” I hissed, my voice caught between frustration and laughter.

“Oh, I can see that,” he said with a teasing grin. “You’re trying very hard not to fall for me.”

He pivoted sharply, and I nearly lost balance again — but his arm was already there, strong and steady, wrapping around my waist to pull me back in sync. The movement pressed me against him, the heat of his body meeting mine in perfect rhythm with the beat.

Rose’s voice purred in the back of my mind, absolutely delighted.

‘Say what you will, but the man has moves… and patience.’

Carter guided me through another step, his hand firm on my hip, his gaze never softening. “Relax,” he said quietly. “The dance isn’t about perfection. It’s about trust.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant the tango — or something else entirely.

By the time the music slowed, I was breathless, dizzy, and clinging to him for dear life while he looked as composed as ever — not a single strand of his dark hair out of place.

And as he dipped me dramatically for the final note, his smile turned wicked.

“Well,” he whispered, his breath warm against my cheek, “if you dance like this when you’re nervous, I can’t wait to see what you’ll do when you’re comfortable.”

My only coherent thought?

I’m doomed.

He pulled me upright with surprising gentleness, his hand still resting on my waist as the music softened into a slower, tender rhythm. The playfulness in his smile faded into something warmer, more thoughtful. He didn’t stop swaying, guiding me into a light, easy motion that felt almost like floating.

“You are not the same as the first time we ever met,” he said quietly, his voice smooth but laced with sincerity. “Back then, you were stubborn—controlling, selfish, even a little cruel. The kind of woman who would dance only to lead.”

His fingers brushed against mine, firm yet careful, like he was afraid I might vanish if he held on too tightly.

“But tonight…” he continued, eyes searching mine as we moved, “the woman I danced with is softer. She listens. She breathes. She feels everything and still dares to keep dancing. There’s strength in that—real strength. You’re no longer fighting to prove yourself, Princess Mishka. You’re learning to be yourself.”

I didn’t know what to say. His words didn’t sound rehearsed—they sounded like the truth.

Rose’s voice whispered in my head, quiet for once.

‘He sees what many would overlook. Don’t ruin it with self-doubt, little one.’

Carter smiled again, but this time it was slower, almost shy. “You move like a storm that’s learned to love the rain,” he murmured. “And that’s far more beautiful than perfection.”

Before I could respond to Carter’s compliment, the sound of elegant heels echoed against the marble. The Queen Mother’s presence filled the ballroom like sunlight through stained glass—beautiful but commanding.

She clasped her gloved hands together, her expression polite yet sharp. “Ah, I see Prince Carter has already claimed your attention. My dear Princess Mishka, I must say, you handle yourself well for someone newly reborn to courtly manners.”

Carter didn’t miss a beat. He gave her a low, exaggerated bow, one hand pressed to his chest and the other still holding mine. “Your Majesty, if I may be honest, she’s a natural. I merely followed her lead… when she let me.”

The Queen Mother chuckled softly, though I caught the faint twitch of impatience in her smile. “Flattery suits you, Prince Carter, but I’m afraid our Princess must meet her next suitor. We cannot have the others waiting.”

“Of course,” he said, stepping closer—close enough that his scent, a mix of warm spice and something wild, made my head spin. His voice dropped low, meant only for me. “Two days after your date with Cassian,” he murmured, his lips curving into that infuriatingly charming grin, “I expect my turn, Princess. Try not to faint before then.”

Before I could reply—or breathe—he pressed a light kiss to my knuckles and winked.

The Queen Mother cleared her throat, her polite smile turning sharper. “Prince Carter,” she warned.

He straightened, smirking. “Your Majesty.”

And with that, he sauntered away, hands in his pockets, still humming the tune of the tango under his breath.

The Queen Mother looped her arm through mine, her tone measured but amused. “He’s impossible, that one. Charming, reckless, and entirely aware of it. Come, my dear—your next introduction awaits.”

As she led me toward the next grand hall, I glanced back once more.

Carter was watching.

Still smiling.

And somehow, I already knew—his dance wasn’t over.

‘The Queen doesn’t fully know you aren’t the old Mishka,’ Rose murmured inside my head, her voice soft but steady. ‘But it benefits us both to keep it that way. Her wolf has no idea either—it thinks I’m still her. We’re safe for now.’

Her words sank in slowly, like drops of ink spreading through water.

Safe. For now.

I hadn’t even realized she’d spoken about me being reborn until this moment, but apparently Rose had known all along. She’d been playing the game while I was still figuring out the rules.

A small shiver ran down my spine—not of fear, but of understanding. This wasn’t just a new life. It was a masquerade, and I was wearing someone else’s face.

“Alright,” I whispered under my breath, trying to keep my composure as the Queen Mother led me through another gilded corridor. “If we’re in this together, then we better not slip.”

Rose’s chuckle rolled through me like velvet. ‘That’s the spirit, little one. Just keep smiling. In this court, truth is the most dangerous luxury of all.’