Chapter 4

“Behave, Adric…” Axel muttered under his breath, adjusting the lapel of his suit. His wolf was pacing like a lovesick fool inside him, growling every time Marcela’s name crossed his mind.

“She is right there,” Adric teased, his voice dripping with amusement. “Go on, Knight, don’t just stand there like a statue, or should I howl to announce your arrival?”

“Try it,” Axel warned dryly, “and I will muzzle you for a week.”

Straightening his stride, he approached Princess Marcela with the easy confidence of a man who knew every eye in the ballroom was watching.

“Axel Cross…” Marcela greeted, her smile widening just enough to be polite, though her eyes sparkled with something more. “This is such a happy occasion for all of us. I have never seen such a blissfully beautiful bride. And Arthur looks positively radiant, so happy and contented.”

Axel admired her composure; not a flicker of heartbreak showed, though he knew the whispers around the room were cruel.

“Indeed,” he replied smoothly. “And I believe we are supposed to dance together. Would you care to join me?”

Still smiling, Marcela placed her slender hand on his arm. Together they stepped into the circle forming around Arthur and Alexia.

As the music swelled, Axel’s thoughts betrayed him. Mirror, mirror on the wall… The childhood rhyme echoed in his head.

Marcela was almost a perfect snow princess, with dark hair, pale and pink skin, and her lips were painted

in the shade of dark red, too bright for her, he thought, because those lips tempted him to crush them with his own.

“Oh, stop drooling,” Adric snorted. “You look like a wolf staring at a butcher’s shop window.”

Axel’s jaw tightened. “Behave,” he hissed again, though his gaze lingered on Marcela’s mouth.

They halted at the edge of the crowd. Axel’s eyes flicked sharply to a man nearby who was openly admiring Marcela. His glare was enough to send him scurrying, and the satisfaction that followed was cold but delicious.

Marcela noticed. Her lips twitched as though she wanted to laugh but didn’t dare.

The band sank into a softer tune. The newly weds began their dance, and the crowd clapped in rhythm. Marcela glanced up at Axel, her breath catching when his dark gaze met hers. The silence between them grew heavy, so she broke it with a nervous laugh. “This is a very funny tradition.”

“You mean the bride and groom’s dance?” Axel asked, arching a brow.

“Yes,” she said, watching Arthur and Alexia move as if no one else existed.

Marcela’s voice softened. “They look so good together, don’t they?”

Axel’s enigmatic glance flicked to her. “Of course, they are husband and wife.” His tone was calm, but Adric chuckled. "She is funny; I like her."

Marcela flushed, realizing how foolish her comment sounded. She tried to cover it with a smile, but Axel’s eyes lingered, making her skin burn.

The music swelled again, and Axel swung her into the waltz. Nervous, Marcela stumbled after a few steps. He caught her instantly, pulling her against his lean body.

“Relax, princess,” he drawled, his warm breath brushing her ear.

Marcela shivered, her nerves tingling. She pulled back quickly, forcing herself to ignore the heat that surged through her, but when she took a glance upward, his eyes were intent, searching, and disturbingly amused.

“Sorry, I wasn’t concentrating,” she murmured, trying to sound distant.

Axel’s lips curved. “Yet you seemed distracted. Is something worrying you?”

Marcela stiffened. “I am not distracted, and nothing’s wrong.” Her smile was cool, though her pride was the only thing holding her together.

Axel’s brows lifted. “As you have probably noticed, quite a few people here are wondering whether you regret a missed opportunity.”

“Must you do that?” Adric growled irritably.

“Oh, there’s no fun in chasing a man who already belongs to someone else,” Marcela retorted, lifting her chin.

Axel’s smile deepened, more challenge than amusement. “Indeed?” he whispered.

“Yes, indeed,” she returned firmly.

“Good,” Axel said, his voice low and satisfied.

“She is feisty,” Adric chuckled. “I like her more; keep her, Axel.”

Marcela shot him a questioning glance, her eyes narrowing just enough to notice the look he sent her, a look that quivered down the full length of her spine. Axel’s gaze lingered shamelessly, wandering across her face before finally settling on her lips.

Marcela exhaled and then tried to distract him. “You know I was beginning to feel like a specimen under glass, while everyone was watching and gossiping about me.”

“Specimen?” Adric snorted. "More like the most exquisite jewel in the room. And

You, Axel, were glaring at anyone who dared look twice at her, admit it."

Axel ignored his wolf, though his lips twitched. “You carried yourself well, even when half the ballroom was whispering nonsense about you.”

Marcela’s laugh was soft, tinged with irony. “Nonsense? They were practically writing my life story. ‘Poor Marcela, rejected by Arthur, doomed to spinsterhood.’

Axel’s eyes gleamed. “Spinsterhood? Hardly, you are far too… feisty for that fate.”

"Feisty," Adric echoed with delight. "Yes, keep saying that. She likes it. And so d I.”

Marcela arched a brow. “Feisty? That is your assessment about me?”

“Among other things,” Axel replied smoothly. “But I will keep the rest to myself for now.”

Her lips curved, amused despite herself. “You are insufferable.”

“True,” Axel admitted with a grin.

Her breath caught, and a smoldering excitement rose inside her, curling like fire. Oh, damn…! She thought, triumph flooding her veins. Heat radiated through her, undeniable. He was flirting with her.

And she was going to respond.

She hadn’t forgotten the way he had looked at her the previous year at the engagement party; that single glance had branded itself into her memory. Since then, no man had been able to break through the attraction she felt for him. Somehow, irrationally, she felt she belonged to him.

But Marcela was terrible at flirting. She knew it. Still, recklessness gave her courage. She tilted her head, her voice deceptively casual. “I am surprised you are alone today. I didn’t see your partner with you.”

Axel’s brows lifted, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Partner?”

Marcela’s lips curved faintly. “Yes. Your latest… conquest, the beautiful leggy blonde? The one the gossip columns insist you turned into a top model overnight?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “Ah, so you read those nonsense rumors.”

Marcela arched a brow. “I don’t read them. They are shouting at me. And besides, you do have a reputation, don’t you?”

Axel leaned closer, his tone deliberately awkward, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. “Why are you asking me, princess, when you can see I am standing? here all alone? It’s my sister’s wedding. I am supposed to entertain my guests. And…” He paused, letting the silence stretch before delivering the words with deliberate weight. “…I am not dating anyone at present.”

Marcela’s pulse jumped. The way he said it—too obvious, too inviting—made her cheeks warm.

Oh, he is not just flirting, she realized, biting back a smile. He is practically daring me to flirt back.

Adric’s voice rumbled inside Axel, “smug and amused, smooth, Axel, very smooth. You should have just handed her a card that says, "I am available.”

Axel ignored his wolf, though his lips twitched. Marcela, encouraged by his tone, leant in slightly, her eyes

sparkling. “Not dating anyone? That sounds suspiciously like an invitation.”

Axel’s grin widened. “Perhaps it is.”

Marcela laughed, the sound light and musical, though her heart was pounding. “You are literally impossible.”

“True,” Axel admitted, his gaze locked on hers. “But you are still talking to me.”

Marcela caught the subtle weight in his words, the invitation too obvious to miss. She gave a small nod, choosing not to answer directly, and fixed her gaze instead on the DJ behind him. The man was moving with the rhythm, his athletic grace almost distracting, and his formal clothes clinging with an elegance that hinted at the powerful body beneath.

Axel followed her gaze, and then asked coolly, “So what are you planning to do after this wedding… attend more weddings, perhaps?”

Marcela laughed softly. “More weddings? No one else I know is getting married anytime soon. So I don’t think I will have much social activity this year.”

He tilted his head, his glance glinting with amusement. “You are happy just doing the social rounds, aren’t you?”

Marcela hesitated, then replied with quiet conviction. “Actually, I am planning to start my own business.”

Axel’s gaze sharpened, surprise flickering across his features. “Wow. You have surprised me, princess. I thought you had settled into being the best TV presenter and an occasional model.”

Marcela’s lips curved with amusement. “Well, I decided my designer needed a new one.”

Adric’s voice rumbled inside Axel, dry and mocking. “Poor girl, dumped by her designer.”

“Yeah, looks like it,” Axel murmured,  unaware of the storm of memories swirling in

Marcela’s mind.

She recalled Dana, the designer who had once hired her to model clothes, paying her a fixed salary but never allowing her a voice. Dana had used Marcela’s social circle to climb up, parading her as the face of her designs at every event. And now, with her reputation secured, Dana no longer needed her. Marcela had quit rather than be dragged around like a lifeless doll.

Axel studied her, curiosity sparking. “So what are you planning to invest in? Maybe I can help.”

“Tourism and hospitality,” Marcela answered firmly.

Adric exclaimed with delight. “She is amazing!”

Ariel rolled his eyes at his wolf’s enthusiasm, though his lips twitched.

Marcela’s voice grew steadier as she explained. She had inherited a small fortune from her maternal grandfather in Sweden, enough to cover her brother’s university fees, her own living expenses, and seed money for her new venture. She was determined to build something of her own.

“I suppose you have figured everything out,” Axel said, his tone dismissive. “Will you continue presenting on television?”

“Of course,” Marcela replied stiffly, loyalty to her producer. “They took a chance on me, and I have always done my best to live up to their expectations.”

Why am I justifying myself to this man? she thought, unsettled by the flutter beneath her ribs when his enigmatic gaze met hers.

Axel’s lips curved in sarcasm. “But tourism? It’s a far cry from modeling. Why go into the wilderness, ruining your skin, when you could sit at home and enjoy your ancestors’ wealth?”

Adric groaned. "Hey buddy, can’t you be gentle?"

“I am just talking. Don’t fuss,” Axel muttered back.

Marcela’s eyes chilled with frost. “I want to take the tourism industry to the next level. My country is beautiful, and I want people to see it with their own eyes. And I don’t like to sit idle. I am a working woman.”

Axel chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, with your title and social status you will succeed.”

His words stung, though she knew there was truth in them. Tears pricked behind her lashes, but she lifted her chin. “It will help. But to succeed, I will need more than that.”

Axel leaned closer, curiosity sharpening. “And you think you have whatever it takes?”

Adric groaned again. Not this line again!

Marcela’s voice was calm, resolute. “I know I have it in me.”

Adric’s tone turned gleeful. "You go, girl!"

Axel laughed, amused at his wolf’s banter. He pulled Marcela closer and swayed to the music, his smile breaking her defenses. His arms encircled her. He pressed against her. His husky breath chilled her.

“You know what, princess,” he said softly, confidence in his voice, “I think you can do it.”

Marcela blinked, shocked by his sudden encouragement. Then she smiled, warmth spreading through her. “Thank you.”

His expression gave nothing away, but his dangerous charisma was undeniable.

Adric giggled inside him, whispering with delight. Well, now you are talking.