He Rejected The Wrong Wolf

Chapter 29

Brielle's POV

Brielle should have known Wren wasn't finished.

The realization arrived the next morning when she walked into the kitchen and found her cousin sitting at the table with a notebook, three folded brochures, and an expression that suggested she had spent the night planning something.

Grandpa saw Brielle pause in the doorway and immediately took another sip of coffee.

"Good luck."

Brielle narrowed her eyes.

"What did she do?"

"I haven't done anything yet," Wren said.

The word yet was the problem.

Grandma slid a plate of toast onto the table.

"You should sit down before she starts."

"That's not reassuring."

"It wasn't meant to be."

With a sigh, Brielle took her usual seat.

Wren immediately opened the notebook.

"No."

"You don't even know what it is."

"I know you."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It usually is."

Wren ignored her.

"The Summer Celebration officially starts today. There are performances in the square, a historical exhibition near the palace gardens, and—"

"No."

"I wasn't finished."

"I know where this is going."

"You actually don't."

Grandpa folded his newspaper.

"She doesn't."

Brielle looked at him.

He looked suspiciously amused.

That should have worried her.

"What am I missing?"

Wren's smile widened.

"The shopping district."

Brielle stared.

"The shopping district."

"Yes."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I know exactly what happens in shopping districts."

"You buy things."

"You buy things."

Wren placed a hand dramatically over her heart.

"I can't believe you think so little of me."

Grandma buttered a piece of toast.

"I can."

Traitor.

---

An hour later, Brielle found herself walking through the capital beside Wren.

Again.

The shopping district occupied several streets near the center of the city and somehow managed to be even busier than the market had been the day before.

People filled the sidewalks. Storefront windows displayed everything from handmade jewelry to formal gowns. Flower boxes overflowed from balconies overhead while banners celebrating the Summer Festival hung between buildings.

The city seemed brighter today.

More crowded.

More excited.

As though everyone was waiting for something.

Wren slowed near a fountain in the center of a small plaza.

Then stopped entirely.

Brielle followed her gaze.

A dress shop occupied the corner.

Of course it did.

"No."

"We're just looking."

"No."

"We're not buying anything."

"No."

Wren linked her arm through Brielle's before she could escape.

"You're being dramatic."

"I'm being realistic."

"Same thing."

Before Brielle could argue further, Wren pulled her inside.

The shop smelled faintly of lavender and new fabric.

Large windows filled the front room with sunlight while rows of dresses stretched along polished racks. Some were simple enough for everyday events. Others looked expensive enough to require armed guards.

A woman with silver hair looked up from behind the counter.

"Good morning."

"We're browsing," Brielle said immediately.

The woman smiled.

"Of course you are."

Wren was already halfway across the room.

Brielle considered leaving her there.

Unfortunately, she'd probably end up carrying three bags home if she did.

The next twenty minutes passed exactly as expected.

Wren touched everything.

Examined everything.

Commented on everything.

At one point she held up a bright yellow dress and declared it cheerful.

A nearby customer nearly choked trying not to laugh.

Even Brielle had to admit it was terrible.

Eventually Wren disappeared behind a rack near the back of the store.

The silence that followed felt suspicious.

Too suspicious.

Brielle turned.

Wren was smiling.

Holding a dress.

"No."

"It's not even for me."

"No."

"You haven't looked at it yet."

"I don't need to."

The dress was deep blue.

Simple.

Elegant.

Not overly formal.

The kind of dress someone might wear to an important event.

Brielle hated that she noticed immediately.

Wren noticed that too.

"Oh, that's interesting."

"It isn't."

"It absolutely is."

The shop owner appeared beside them.

Quietly.

Like she'd been waiting.

"That color would suit you."

Brielle looked trapped.

Wren looked delighted.

The woman continued.

"We have fitting rooms."

"No."

"Yes."

The shop owner pointed toward the back.

Wren pointed too.

Traitors.

Both of them.

---

Ten minutes later, Brielle stood in front of a mirror wondering how she'd ended up here.

The dress fit.

That was the problem.

The deep blue fabric fell smoothly to the floor while silver embroidery traced the neckline and sleeves. It wasn't flashy. It didn't need to be.

For a moment she barely recognized herself.

The fitting room curtain shifted.

Wren poked her head inside.

Then froze.

"Oh."

Brielle immediately became suspicious.

"What?"

Wren stepped fully into the room.

For once, she seemed to have forgotten every joke she'd ever learned.

"Okay."

"Wren."

"Wow."

Brielle groaned.

That answered the question.

The curtain opened again.

This time Grandma stepped through.

Brielle blinked.

"What are you doing here?"

Grandma looked entirely innocent.

"I was nearby."

"You absolutely were not."

"I might have been informed."

Wren looked very interested in the ceiling.

Betrayal.

Complete betrayal.

Grandma's gaze settled on the dress.

Then she smiled.

The expression was warm enough to make Brielle unexpectedly emotional.

"You look beautiful."

The words hit harder than they should have.

Maybe because nobody was trying to convince her of anything.

Maybe because Grandma simply meant them.

For a moment, Brielle looked back at her reflection.

The girl staring back looked different from the one who'd arrived in the capital.

Not healed.

Not fixed.

Just...lighter somehow.

The feeling disappeared as quickly as it came.

She cleared her throat.

"I'm not buying it."

Neither Grandma nor Wren looked convinced.

---

They left the shop an hour later.

Brielle was carrying a garment bag.

She refused to discuss it.

Wren was enjoying herself far too much.

The afternoon carried them toward the palace district, where preparations for the Summer Celebration seemed even more obvious than before.

Workers moved between enormous flower displays being assembled along the main avenue. Royal banners hung from nearly every building. Crowds gathered behind decorative barriers to watch musicians rehearse for upcoming performances.

As they crossed a small square overlooking the palace gardens, Brielle noticed a group of women gathered near a café patio.

Their conversation drifted across the street.

"...heard he's already arrived..."

"...always comes early..."

"...the Alpha King never misses the final ball..."

The women continued talking as they walked away.

Wren watched them go.

"People are excited."

Brielle followed her gaze toward the palace rising above the city.

Tall towers gleamed beneath the afternoon sun while royal guards stood watch near the gates.

The entire capital seemed to orbit around the celebration.

And around the man everyone expected to see.

For the first time, Brielle found herself wondering what the Alpha King was actually like.

Not the title.

Not the stories.

The man.

The thought lingered longer than she expected.

And beside her, Wren smiled.

A dangerous sign.

Because whenever Wren smiled like that, it usually meant she already had another plan.