Chapter 92: Chapter 92: Meant For Greater Things
Estelle’s POV
“Here we are,” Cyril announced as we approached a charming cafe nestled between two boutiques.
I glanced at the elegant signage and immediately felt underdressed. This place screamed expensive.
Cyril excitedly gestured to the wide display of desserts and pastries. “Order whatever catches your eye, Luna Estelle. Consider it a treat to show my gratitude for spending time with this old man.”
The interior was even more luxurious than the outside suggested. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and each table was set with fine china. There was a glass display case near the entrance that showcased an array of pastries. Each one made my mouth water instantly.
I found myself staring at the selection longer than I should have.
Back at Moonveil, Asher’s mother had constantly criticized my eating habits. She claimed that eating too much would make me fat, which in turn would cause Asher to find me unattractive. Ever since then, I curbed my cravings and refrained from indulging in too many desserts.
Her voice echoed in my memory, making me step back from the display.
“See something you like?” Cyril asked, coming to stand beside me.
“They all look beautiful,” I admitted. “But maybe I should just stick to tea.”
“Absolutely not.” His tone was firm but kind. “Life is too short to deny yourself simple pleasures.”
The server approached us with practiced grace. “Good afternoon. Table for two?”
“Yes, please,” Cyril replied. “Somewhere with a nice view if you have it.”
We were seated by a window overlooking a small garden. I kept glancing at other patrons enjoying elaborate desserts while I wrestled with old habits.
“You know,” Cyril said, studying my expression, “my godson has the same problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“He loves sweets more than anything, but he never indulges. He seems to always worry about maintaining his image.” Cyril’s eyes grew fond. “The boy thinks he needs to be serious and controlled every moment of every day.”
I found myself leaning forward, curious despite myself. “That sounds exhausting.”
“It is. He forgets that even leaders need moments of joy. Simple pleasures that remind us we’re human.” Cyril flagged down our server. “We’ll have the afternoon tea service for two, and please add an assortment of your finest pastries.”
“Cyril—”
“No arguments,” he said gently. “You’re doing me a favor. I hate eating sweets alone. Makes me feel like a guilty old man.”
When the food arrived, I couldn’t hide my amazement. Tiered serving trays held delicate finger sandwiches, warm scones with clotted cream, and more pastries than two people could possibly eat.
“This is incredible,” I whispered.
Cyril chuckled. “Now try some.”
I took a small bite of a strawberry tart. The burst of flavor made me close my eyes in appreciation. When was the last time I’d allowed myself something this indulgent?
“Better?” Cyril asked.
“Much.” I took another bite, this time without guilt. “You must love your godson very much.”
“I do.” His expression softened. “He’s the closest thing I have to family. I’ve never found my fated mate, you see. This boy has been like a grandson to me.”
Something in his tone made my chest tighten with sympathy. “I’m sorry you haven’t found your mate.”
“What about you?” Cyril asked gently. “Have you been blessed with that particular gift?”
The question hit harder than expected. I set down my fork, suddenly losing my appetite. “No. I haven’t found my fated mate either.”
“I thought perhaps...” Cyril looked genuinely surprised. “Forgive me, I assumed you had.”
I shook my head. “I thought I had at least found something similar once. But I was wrong.” The memory of Asher’s deception still stung. Even now, thinking about how thoroughly I’d been fooled made anger simmer in my chest.
Then, unexpectedly, Zayne’s face flashed through my mind. Those electric blue eyes that seemed to see straight through me. I could imagine the way he’d looked at me during our recent meetings. It was as though I were something precious and fragile.
My heart gave an odd flutter.
That was strange. Zayne wasn’t my fated mate either. So why did thinking about him make my pulse quicken?
Cyril was watching me carefully, and I caught something knowing in his expression.
“The right person will come along eventually,” he said after a moment. “And if they don’t, well, perhaps that just means you’re destined for greater things than romance.”
“You’re probably right.” I picked up my teacup, grateful for something to do with my hands. “I’ve been burned once. I want to be more careful this time.”
“Wisdom learned through experience,” Cyril nodded approvingly. “Though I hope you won’t close your heart entirely. Sometimes the best things come when we least expect them.”
After we finished eating, Cyril suggested a walk. “There’s a boutique nearby that I need to visit. Would you mind accompanying an old man on one more errand?”
“Of course not. I’ve enjoyed our afternoon together.”
The boutique was clearly high-end, with mannequins dressed in gowns that cost more than most people made in a year. The moment we walked through the door, staff members rushed forward.
“Council—” one began eagerly.
“Just Cyril today,” he cut them off smoothly, but I’d caught that slip. If I wasn’t mistaken, the staff had meant to call Cyril a councilman.
“I’m here about the dress I commissioned,” Cyril continued as if nothing had happened.
“Of course! Right this way.”
They led us to a private viewing room where a single gown hung on display. I stopped breathing.
The dress was absolutely stunning. It was a mermaid silhouette in ivory silk, covered in intricate lacework. Pearls had been sewn into the fabric in delicate patterns that caught the light like captured moonbeams.
It looked exactly like a wedding dress. The most beautiful wedding dress I’d ever seen.
“It’s perfect,” Cyril said with satisfaction. “Exactly what I requested.”
I stared at the gown, my mind racing. Who was this for? His godson’s wedding, perhaps? But his godson was a male. This could only be for the bride.
“Now,” he said, watching as the staff removed the dress from the hanger. “How about trying this dress on, Luna Estelle?”
***
Third POV
Mason knocked on Zayne’s office door before entering. “You wanted to see me?”
“I need you to contact Cyril,” Zayne said without looking up from the reports spread across his desk. “There are some council matters that require his immediate attention.”
“I’ve been trying to reach him all morning,” Mason replied. “He is currently uncontactable. I’ve tried to reach him both via the pack link and on his phone, but he hasn’t responded.”
Zayne’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
“He’s not in lycan territory. Apparently, he left yesterday morning without saying where he was going or when he’d be back.”
A frown creased Zayne’s brow. It wasn’t like Cyril to disappear without notice, especially when council business was pending.
