The valet took Nate's keys with reverent care. Aurelia's golden doors loomed before us—portal to a battlefield disguised as lunch.
Nate's hand caught mine. The contact hit like lightning, warmth flooding through my entire arm.
"I'll be at the next table," he said, squeezing gently. "Every second. You won't be alone."
"She won't come alone either."
"No. But nobody starts bloodshed in human territory. Bad for everyone's business." His thumb traced my knuckles. "You've got this."
I barely registered his touch. Every nerve focused on what waited inside while Elsie snarled: ‘Gabriel is ours. OURS. Not hers.’
The hostess led me through tables of oblivious human diners to a corner booth where devastation waited in designer heels.
Evelyn Barrett didn't look up when I approached. Her red nails tapped against her phone screen with surgical precision. Everything about her screamed power—from the severe black suit that probably cost more than most cars to the way she owned the space without trying.
"Evelyn." I kept my voice neutral. "Thank you for—"
"Sit." She still didn't look up. "I have twenty minutes before something actually important requires my attention."
I slid into the booth, cataloging her wolves positioned strategically throughout the restaurant. Six, maybe seven.
"Your Beta practically prostrated himself to arrange this meeting." Evelyn finally raised her eyes—cold blue, like winter lakes that drown the careless. "Desperation doesn't suit the Blackstone Pack, though I suppose that's what happens when an exile's daughter plays at being Luna."
My breath caught. Heat flooded my face.
‘She's trying to intimidate you. Don't bite yet.’ Nate's voice bloomed in my mind through the pack link. ‘Though I admit, she might be a better actress than you.’
The corner of my mouth lifted involuntarily when Evelyn's perfect eyebrow arched.
"Something amusing about your pack's impending destruction?"
"Nothing's amusing about bloodshed that doesn't need to happen." I leaned forward. "This isn't happening 'because of me.' It's happening because your pack refuses to respect fundamental wolf law. The mate bond is sacred."
"Sacred." She tasted the word like spoiled wine. "How convenient that sacred law benefits you."
"It benefits everyone. It prevents exactly this—packs destroying each other over broken engagements."
"My pack is one of the most influential in the territory. My marriage to Gabriel would have doubled both our strengths." Her voice sharpened to a blade. "You know what disgusts me most? You lack even the courage to reject him yourself."
"Why would I reject my mate?"
"For the good of the pack. For the lives that will be lost. For anything beyond your own selfish desires."
She stood, towering over me in her heels, sizing me with her cold gaze.
"But you won't. You'll let Gabriel choose between his pack's survival and his precious mate bond. You'll make him carry that weight because you're too weak to make the sacrifice yourself."
"That's not—"
"You've already proved you're a mediocre Luna at best. No better than I would have been. Actually, considerably worse—I would never let my Alpha face this choice." She gathered her coat with practiced elegance. "This conversation is over."
"Evelyn—"
"Let me be very clear." She looked down at me, every inch the Alpha's daughter. "I will never bow to you as Luna. Because when I become Luna—and I will—you'll be exactly what you've always been. An exile."
She swept out, her wolves falling into formation behind her, and the restaurant suddenly felt half empty. Nate slid into her vacated seat before the door closed behind them.
"Well," he said. "That went well."
"You knew it would go exactly like this."
"Likely. But I thought seeing a Barrett up close might prepare you for what's coming." He signaled the waiter. "Wine. Whatever bottle costs enough to make forgetting the last twenty minutes possible."
The waiter scurried away and I stared at my untouched water glass, the question that had been circling finally landing. "Should I?"
"Should you what?"
"Reject Gabriel. Save the pack from destruction."
Nate went completely still. When I looked up, his gray eyes held mine with brutal honesty.
"I can't make that choice for you." Each word seemed dragged from him. "But if I could..." He paused, jaw working. "I think you know what I'd do."
"You'd want me to reject him."
"I'd want you free." The admission hung between us, too honest for the elegant restaurant, too raw for daylight. "But that's not my choice to make."
I nodded, understanding more than he’d said.
It wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
‘He won’t die if you don’t choose him,’ Elsie murmured, calm and certain. ‘He’s too strong. He’ll survive—he’ll just carry the scar.’
"The wine's here," Nate said, voice carefully neutral again. "Drink. Tomorrow we prevent a war. Today, we just survive."
But as I raised my glass, Evelyn's words echoed: When I become Luna—you'll be exactly what you've always been. An exile.
Elsie snarled her disagreement.
But the human part of me wondered if Evelyn might be right.