The sickened luna’s last chance

Chapter 211

Ella

Planning a date turned out to be more complicated than I'd expected.

Over the next two days, | found myself sneaking around the mansion whenever Alexander was gone, which was

most of the time. He was often so buried in Alpha King business that he likely wouldn't have noticed my

preparations even when he was home.

It was strangely sort of fun at first, putting together a date like this. | tried not to think about whether or not

Alexander would even want it and instead focused on the creative aspect of making sure everything was perfect.

But every t| thought | had everything figured out, | realized there was something else I didn’t know about my

own husband, and my enjoyment started to turn into frustration.

| started with the easy stuff. Food. | had to question the cook to find out what sorts of food Alexander liked, |

discovered that he actually liked simple things-grilled meats, fresh bread, nothing too fancy. | could handle that. |

spent that very afternoon in the kitchen with the cook, learning how to make his favorite sandwich. Roast beef,

sharp cheddar, mustard, no mayo.

Next cthe blankets and pillows. | dug through the linen closet until | found the softest ones we owned, then

spent way too long trying to figure out which ones would look romantic without being completely obvious. Did

we even have romantic blankets? What the fuck did that even mean?

Lilith, who was sitting on the edge of the bed watchinglament over cushions, let out a soft laugh.” You're

more into this than | expected.”

| shrugged and tossed a small throw pillow aside. “I want it to be perfect.”

Lilith tilted her head. | could sense her intrigue, although | appreciated that she didn’t press the matter.

Every t| looked at her, though, I still couldn’t help but think about the evidence that had been left in the

bathroom at the coronation. Lilith had toldthat she didn’t leave the note or the envelope, indicating that it

must have been someone else.

But who? And why? Alexander mentioned that Gabriel had been demoted for negligence, so was it him? Or was it

someone else?

I shook my head, dispelling the thoughts as | looked away. No. Now was not the tto be thinking about

conspiracies. | had a date to plan and a husband whose trust | wanted to earn.

Which meant that, for now, pillows and blankets had to be a priority.

Finally, | settled on a thick wool blanket that would keep us warm and a couple of down pillows. Nothing fancy,

but comfortable. It just had to be nice enough to lounge on under the stars.

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Then | moved on to candles. Alexander seemed like the type who'd appreciate something that smelled like pine

of cedar, not flowers. | found a few scents that were pleasant and subtle and added those to the growing basket

of supplies.

By the third day, the day of the full moon, | was feeling pretty good about my progress. | had the food sorted, the

atmosphere planned, and I'd picked out a spot in the woods behind the mansion.

But then | realized | had no idea what music to bring.

It hit me, as | sat in our bedroom putting together a playlist, that | had absolutely no idea what kind of music

Alexander liked.

Did he like classical? Rock? Country? Jazz? In our five years of marriage, I'd only seen him listen to music on a

handful of occasions, and never for long. And if he did listen, it was usually with headphones.

This was fucking embarrassing. What kind of wife didn’t know what music her husband liked?

The kind who'd spent five years in a marriage that wasn’t really a marriage, | supposed.

It botheredso much more than it probably should have. Music was such a basic thing. Couples were

supposed to know stuff like that about each other. They were supposed to have songs that meant something,

playlists they’d made together, memories tied to certain albums.

Alexander and | had none of that.

We had a marriage built on a contract and no love. We had a few nights of incredible sex and a baby on the way.

We had paint-stained clothes and inside jokes about crib assembly.

But we didn’t have music.

| flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe this whole date idea was stupid. Maybe | was trying

to force something that wasn’t there, creating intimacy where none existed just because Dr. Evelyn had

suggested physical contact during the full moon.

Suddenly, | had an idea: his office.

Alexander spent most of his tin that study. If he listened to music anywhere, it would be in his private office

where no one could judge his choices or interrupt his concentration.

| checked the clock. He'd left for a meeting an hour ago and wouldn't be back until late afternoon, which left me

plenty of tto do a little investigating.

| felt ridiculous sneaking down the hall to his office like | was in a spy movie, and after the fact that he'd told me

he thought | might be an actual spy, it hit a little close to home. But I slipped in anyway, surprised to find that

the door was unlocked, and made a mental note just to check the bookshelves for any CDs or vinyls.

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Finally, after a couple of minutes of searching, | spotted a shelf in the corner that had various things sitting on it:

sknick-knacks, packets of random paperwork, a few personal books that didn’t fit in with the other

leatherbound books on politics and pack histories.

And there, at the bottom of that shelf, was a small stack of CDs.

Grinning, | crossed the room and crouched in front of the cabinet.

The titles were eclectic. Classic rock mixed with blues, sjazz, a few country albums, even sclassical

pieces. Nothing | would have expected, but somehow it made sense. Alexander had always been hard to

categorize, | supposed.

| opened the cabdoor and carefully pulled out a few CDs to get a better look. Sof the cases were

especially well-worn, indicating which ones were his favorite. One jazz CD seemed to be so worn that I could

hardly read the original label.

This was perfect. | stood, intending to just take this one CD for tonight, and turned to leave. But when | turned, |

found that | wasn’t alone.

Alexander was standing in the doorway. And his face was nothing short of thunderous.

Before | could react, he was crossing the room in three long strides. One hand gripped my wrist, pinning it above

my head while the other cto press into the wall beside me. His chest heaved, eyes flashing like he'd caught