Alpha's Regret: Marked By The Lycan King

Estelle’s POV

I glanced at Cyril, who was looking increasingly uncomfortable in his seat. His earlier confidence had completely evaporated.

“I’m heading back to Blackmoon now.”

“Good.” Zayne’s voice was sharp. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Zayne, is everything—”

The line went dead. I stared at my phone for a moment before sliding it back into my pocket.

Cyril cleared his throat nervously. “He sounds angry.”

“He does,” I agreed. Zayne’s tone had been colder than usual, which was saying something. Even his brief responses carried an edge that made my stomach twist with unease.

Cyril shifted in his seat. “Perhaps I should have consulted him first before coming to see you.”

I studied his worried expression. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

But even as I said the words, I wasn’t entirely convinced. Zayne had sounded genuinely upset, not just his usual controlled irritation.

I pulled out my phone and quickly typed a message to Caleb.

[Zayne is coming to Blackmoon. Can you prepare for his arrival?]

His response came back almost immediately.

[Of course. Everything will be ready. Is everything alright?]

My lips twisted.

[Sort of.]

The rest of the drive passed in relative silence. When we finally pulled through the gates of Blackmoon territory, Caleb was already waiting for us at the front entrance. His usual friendly smile was replaced with a concerned frown.

“Estelle,” he said as I stepped out of the car. “His Majesty arrived about ten minutes ago. He’s waiting in the parlor.”

“How does he seem?”

Caleb grimaced. “Pissed. Really pissed. What happened?”

I sighed. “I’ll explain everything later.”

Cyril had climbed out of the car as well, and I could see him taking deep breaths as though preparing for battle.

“Come on,” I told him.

We walked through the familiar halls of the packhouse. My heart was beating faster than I’d like to admit.

The parlor doors were already open when we approached. Zayne was standing near the window, his back to us, hands clasped behind him.

“Your Majesty,” Cyril began as we entered the room.

Zayne turned around, and I had to suppress a small gasp. His electric blue eyes were practically crackling with anger, and his jaw was set in a hard line.

“Cyril,” Zayne said, his voice deceptively calm. “How nice of you to finally join us.”

Cyril took a step forward. “I know you’re upset, but if you’ll just let me explain—”

“Explain?” Zayne cut him off sharply. “You have no right to meddle in my affairs like this. Especially to throw an engagement party without my prior approval.”

My eyes widened in shock. “An engagement party?”

Cyril looked surprised that Zayne knew about it, while I was still trying to process this new information.

Zayne’s gaze flicked to me briefly before returning to Cyril. “Did you really think that the council could organize such a thing right under my nose without me ever catching wind of it?”

“The council has grown impatient,” Cyril said quietly. “They’re organizing an engagement party tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I echoed, but both men ignored me.

Zayne’s hands clenched into fists. “They have no right. I’m the one getting engaged, yet I knew nothing about this party.”

Cyril sighed heavily. “I tried to prevent them from doing this. But I was outvoted. I’m only one voice against many.”

“So you decided to take matters into your own hands instead?”

“I managed to convince them not to name Rosalind Vurbont as the fiancée,” Cyril continued. “I told them that you’ll announce your bride at the engagement party yourself. But the Vurbont family will probably be there, and they will naturally be assuming Rosalind is the chosen one. That’s why I came to find Luna Estelle ahead of time.”

I felt like I was watching a tennis match, my head turning back and forth between them.

Zayne was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working as though he was chewing on his words. Finally, he spoke.

“Fine.”

Both Cyril and I stared at him.

“Fine?” I repeated. “That’s it?”

Zayne’s expression was still thunderous, but I could see him forcing himself to think rationally. “As much as I hate to admit it, Cyril has a point. If the council is determined to push this through, at least this way I maintain some control over the situation.”

He turned to Cyril. “You need to get back to lycan territory immediately. Make sure everything about this engagement party is perfect. And make damn sure my name isn’t saddled with Rosalind Vurbont again.”

Cyril nodded eagerly. “Of course. I’ll handle everything personally.”

“I’ll call you later to go through the details,” Zayne told me. “But right now, I have a mess to fix first.”

He glared pointedly at Cyril during the last part, and the older man had the grace to look sheepish.

“I’ll walk you both out,” I offered, still trying to process everything that had just happened.

We made our way back to the front entrance in silence. Cyril’s driver was still waiting patiently by the car.

“Luna Estelle,” Cyril said quietly as Zayne spoke with the driver. “Thank you for being understanding about all of this.”

“It’s fine,” I said automatically, though my mind was still reeling.

“You’ll be beautiful tomorrow,” he added with a gentle smile.

Before I could respond, Zayne had returned to our side.

“Ready?” he asked Cyril.

Cyril nodded.

As their car pulled away, I stood in the driveway trying to make sense of what had just happened. Caleb came over, his eyes wide as he stared at the car that drove out of sight.

“Is there anything we need to prepare?” he asked. “A dress? Invitations?”

“Probably invitations,” I said, nodding. I hadn’t even checked with Zayne on the details, but I assumed I was at least allowed to invite some guests of my own.

“Anyone you might have in mind?”

“Maybe let’s just keep it amongst us for now,” I said. Then, after thinking a bit, I added, “I’ll let Juliet and the others know too.”

***

Third POV

Asher stared at his phone screen, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white. The private investigator that he had hired finally came back with something worthwhile.

The photographs showed Estelle shopping with an elderly man, trying on what was clearly a wedding gown.

His jaw clenched as he studied each image. Estelle wore a huge smile as she modeled the dress for this stranger.

“She’s completely lost her mind,” he muttered to himself.

Estelle would rather marry an old man who could easily be her grandfather than return to him and Moonveil. The thought made his blood boil.