chapter 9 The Banquet (4)

Calista's heart pounded as she heard Aurora's bold plan.

"Let's find a way to drug the prince," her friend declared with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "then I'll lure him into a private room, spend the night with him—while you slip away."

Heat rushed to Calista's cheeks. Even the distant orchestral music in the banquet hall seemed to waver, matching her unsteady pulse. "Aurora," she hissed, "that's impossible—and shameless! He's an alpha-blood prince. A simple sleeping powder won't knock him out. Besides, palace security—" She cut herself off, realizing how futile it was to argue. Aurora always had a knack for outrageous schemes.

Before her friend could respond, a pleasant voice cut through the background noise.

"Cal? I'm glad to see you two here."

Calista turned, momentarily startled to find Prince Ezekiel approaching with an easy smile. He had a refined presence—tall, confident, yet carrying a friendly warmth that contrasted sharply with the tension radiating from the rest of the hall.

"I hope you're enjoying the party?" he asked, returning Aurora's enthusiastic wave.

"Yes, very much so," Aurora replied, beaming as if she might split her cheeks from smiling too hard. Calista tried not to roll her eyes.

She shifted her gaze to Prince Ezekiel's kind face. Emboldened by the wine tingling through her veins, she asked, "May I…ask a question?"

"Of course." His eyes gleamed with curiosity.

"Have you chosen anyone for the role of Luna yet?" Calista took another sip of wine, feeling uncharacteristically bold.

The prince's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "Not yet," he said, maintaining a friendly demeanor.

Calista's face lit up with a sudden, tipsy grin. "I know someone—absolutely stunning, smart, and with perfect proportions. You two would look amazing together." She punctuated her words with a hiccup, nearly spilling her wine.

Aurora's cheeks flared bright red. She quickly downed a glass of her own, clearly mortified that Calista was pointing right at her. Prince Ezekiel let out a polite, slightly flustered laugh.

"You're straightforward, I'll give you that," he teased. He briefly rested a hand on Calista's shoulder, causing her to jolt in surprise. She jerked away as though scorched, then joined in his laughter to mask her awkwardness.

Sensing Aurora's discomfort, Calista stepped closer to whisper, "Sorry," under her breath. Aurora didn't reply, burying her face in her goblet instead.

Prince Ezekiel glanced between them, then motioned for them to lean in. "Since I consider you both friends now," he murmured, "I'll share a secret: There's someone I've admired for some time."

Calista felt her insides twist. She locked eyes with Aurora—who suddenly looked like a deflating balloon. "Oh?" Calista managed. "Who?"

Ezekiel hesitated, lowering his voice. "The second daughter of Beta Mateo. I've heard rumors that she has the rarest green eyes, incomparable beauty…and a certain fiery spirit. I've been hoping to meet her someday."

Calista's heart seemed to stop, then thundered back to life. He can't possibly mean…me? Her thoughts whirled with alarm. She forced a quivering smile, dreading that her thin disguise might be failing.

"I notice you have green eyes as well," Ezekiel pointed out, his tone light but his gaze keen.

A cold sweat broke out along Calista's back. He knows. He must know. She offered a shaky laugh, all traces of mirth gone from her expression. Aurora stared at her friend in shock, while Prince Ezekiel watched them with mild curiosity.

Before anyone could speak further, a familiar voice disrupted the moment—a voice that tightened Calista's chest with dread.

"Prince Ezekiel?"

Calista froze, her stomach flipping. Emily. Her sister's perfectly modulated tone always preceded trouble.

Emily offered the prince a polite bow. "Would you care to dance?" she asked, batting her lashes in an overt attempt to charm him.

Desperate not to be spotted, Calista spun around, tugging Aurora to do the same. Don't look at me. Don't look at me, she silently pleaded.

Prince Ezekiel gave Emily a courteous smile. "I'd love to," he answered, then glanced at Calista and Aurora. "Forgive me. I'll speak with you both again soon."

Relief washed over Calista as he guided Emily toward the dance floor—until Emily paused, curiosity bright in her eyes. "Are these friends of yours?" she asked, peering at their partially averted faces.

"Yes. This is Cal, and this is Aaron," Prince Ezekiel introduced them with enthusiasm. Emily leveled a polite smile at the pair, though suspicion flickered behind her gaze.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Aurora blurted, cheeks still crimson from drink. "We've heard a lot about your…beauty, Miss Emily." Calista nodded stiffly, praying her nerves didn't show.

Emily's stare narrowed. "Indeed? Then, where exactly are you both from?"

Ezekiel added with a curious tilt of his head, "Yes, I meant to ask you that as well."

Calista ran a shaky hand over her fake beard, heart pounding louder than the banquet music. This disguise isn't going to hold for long…

"Cough, cough…" Calista cleared her throat, praying no one would see through their poorly chosen disguises. She turned, forcing a polite bow toward Emily and Prince Ezekiel. "We—we come from a small village," she blurted, voice breaking. "We just realized we have urgent business at home, so if you'll excuse—"

"Wait!" Emily called sharply, halting Calista's sentence mid-breath.

That single word collided with the dread in Calista's gut. We're discovered. She glanced at Aurora, who looked equally panicked.

Run," Calista whispered.

They broke into a sprint, or at least what felt like one. The banquet's lanterns blurred in Calista's vision. She felt lighter, faster than usual, as if her wolf was stirring inside. Has my wolf finally awakened? she wondered.

Yet to onlookers, the pair were merely staggering, nearly toppling chairs and colliding with a couple of startled guests who had to jump aside. Many watchers exchanged bemused shrugs, concluding that the two "young men" were thoroughly intoxicated. None bothered to stop them.

As if to confirm that notion, Emily made a half-hearted move to intercept them, but Prince Ezekiel caught her by the wrist. "Let them go," he said gently. "We agreed to dance, remember?" He offered her his hand.

Emily's conflicted gaze lingered on the two fleeing figures. "Better not be you, Calista," she mumbled under her breath, slipping her hand into Ezekiel's. Together, they moved onto the dance floor, though Emily's eyes flashed with lingering suspicion.