Misguided Wolves

9. The Fated Meeting

Elliott emerged from the designers’ chaos in a tailored black suit, its blush shirt echoing the festival’s hues. A tie adorned with the sun-and-moon symbol gleamed, and a sun-shaped pin of yellow topaz and rubies sparkled on his jacket. His hair, freshly trimmed with shaved sides and a longer top, gave him a polished edge.

Though the process was a hassle, he admitted the designers knew their craft.

Meeting Kyle, who wore a simpler tailored suit, Elliott endured his cousin’s teasing.

“Why the extra flash for you?” Kyle asked.

“Probably because I dodged a certain maid’s advances,” Elliott quipped.

Kyle’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t partake? You sick or something?”

Elliott shrugged. “Wasn’t feeling it.”

As they headed to the gardens, the apple-cinnamon scent hit Elliott, stronger than ever. Leo howled, “She’s here! Find her!”

Elliott’s pulse quickened, his feet moving toward the festival’s glow. The gardens buzzed with townsfolk, enchanted crystals casting a soft light over vibrant dresses and lively music. Jackson wove through the crowd, enveloping Elliott in a bear hug. “By the dance floor,” he whispered. “You’ll find what you seek.”

Jackson slipped away toward Hova, who played with children nearby. Elliott’s gut urged him to follow Jackson’s hint, the scent growing intoxicating. Then he saw her—an angel in a flowing white gown, gems and pearls cascading across her backless design. A child bumped her, and she stumbled in her heels. Without thinking, Elliott rushed forward, catching her just in time.

Her brown curls shimmered with golden streaks, freckles dusting her cheeks and nose, giving her an innocent charm. Her hazel eyes, flecked with gray, locked onto his, stealing his breath. Elliott’s own deep brown hair, freshly trimmed, framed clear blue eyes with darker flecks, and he saw her gaze soften.

“Mate!” Leo and Tove declared in unison, their voices echoing in their humans’ minds.

Kate’s cheeks flushed as she took in her savior. Tove’s announcement left her speechless, her heart racing under the lunar eclipse, which bathed the square in a pale pink glow, not the usual red. The crowd gasped and cheered, sensing the prophecy’s weight.

For a moment, only they existed. Elliott broke the silence, setting her upright. “May I have your name?”

“Kate,” she whispered, eyes downcast, shy under his gaze.

“Nice to meet you, Kate. Would you like to dance?”

She nodded, unable to meet his eyes, and took his offered hand. The touch sent sparks up Elliott’s arm, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. He wanted to claim her under the pink moonlight, but her timid demeanor warned him to move slowly.

On the dance floor, Kate’s nerves made her stiff, her heels tripping over his feet. Elliott smiled, unfazed, guiding her with a hand on her bare back. The contact sent heat through him, and he bit his lip to stay composed, fearing he’d scare her off. Leo chided, “Be a gentleman. We have time to mate later.”

“Funny, coming from an animal,” Elliott teased.

“We can’t scare her away,” Leo insisted. “Finding our mate here is fate.”

Kate, too, conversed with Tove. “Cedarwood,” she thought, inhaling Elliott’s scent, laced with mint. She’d caught traces of it in the castle, but now its source overwhelmed her. Unbeknownst to them, the crowd had parted, watching with knowing smiles. The prophecy Hova preached was unfolding, and other mated pairs slipped away, lost in their own bliss.

After their dance, Elliott led Kate to a secluded garden nook, where they sat against a tree, gazing at the stars. The moon retained its pink hue, and Elliott pondered Hova’s prophecy, wondering if Kate was his moon. Noticing her shiver, he draped his jacket over her shoulders. Her doe-like eyes met his, and she murmured, “Thank you.”

Her voice was delicate, barely audible without his heightened hearing. She quickly looked away, shy. He chuckled, nudging her. “Talk to me. Tell me about yourself.”

With gentle prying, Kate opened up, sharing likes, dislikes, and hobbies. As the night wore on, her yawns grew frequent, her eyes heavy. Elliott stood, offering his hand. “Let’s get you to bed.”

They wove through the lively crowd, hand in hand, to the castle. Kate led him to her room, her face flushed, heart racing at the possibilities. She fidgeted, whispering, “This is me.”

Elliott grinned at her nerves, pulling her close by the waist. “We’ll take this slow. Goodnight, beautiful. See you in the morning.” He kissed her cheek and left, grinning ear to ear. Kate wasn’t his usual type—bold, confident women—but he relished the thought of unraveling her layers. Leo grunted, “Fenrir outdid himself. She’s perfect.”

Elliott fell asleep, wrapped in her apple-cinnamon scent.

****

Kate’s heart pounded as she closed her door. She’d found her mate, and the reality left her dizzy. Her mind blanked around Elliott, words failing her, but the butterflies in her stomach thrilled her.

“Open up to him,” Tove urged. “He’s our mate, chosen by the Moon Goddess.”

Kate bit her lip, eager for what lay ahead, her dreams filled with cedarwood and mint.