Page 24 of The Alpha's Cursed Queen

“A–Are you sure this is the right place?” I don’t think I can even afford to breathe the air in there.

“Darian has reserved a table. Don’t worry, the maître d’ will guide you.” The driver looks toward the entrance just as a man in a tuxedo walks out. My clothes are simple, a blue blouse with bell-flared sleeves that I thought looked pretty and a pair of black jeans. But next to the man in the tuxedo, I look shabby.

The maître d’ doesn’t so much as blink. “Right this way, ma’am.”

He’s a wolf shifter like me. His scent gives him away.

I enter the restaurant and am immediately dazzled by the high ceilings and gorgeous decor. The entire place has been done up in hues of gold and red, a beautiful combination that screams elegance and sophistication.

The maître d’ leads me to the back of the restaurant, which offers more privacy. As I pass by the other diners, I feel even more underdressed. The women are wearing gorgeous dresses, while their partners are dressed in suits that drip money. I really don’t belong here.

A sliver of doubt creeps into my mind. But when I see Darian looking over at me and beaming, some of it fades away. He gets to his feet and pulls out a chair for me. The maître d’ immediately turns red. “There’s no need for that, Your—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Darian cuts him off. “I believe everything is set for tonight.”

The sudden, formal edge to his voice has me blinking. The easy-going and casual man I know has been replaced by someone cold and aloof. The maître d’ pales and hurries away.

I sit down hesitantly, and when Darian looks at me, he’s back to his normal self.

“Did we really have to come here?” I look around uneasily. “When you said dinner, I thought you meant getting something like hotdogs or pizza. I mean, I know you work for the royal family, but this is insane.”

“You don’t like this place?” Darian looks around. “We can go somewhere else.”

“It’s fine. I just wish you had warned me about the dress code here. I would have worn”—I look down at my clothes—“not this.”

“What’s wrong with your outfit?” Darian asks bluntly. “You look gorgeous.”

I’m taken aback by the compliment as I look around at the other females in the restaurant. Gorgeous is not the word I would use to describe myself. These women look like polished socialites, their makeup and hair done to perfection.

I suddenly realize something. There’s some distance between our table and every other table. It’s almost as if there’s an invisible barrier around us. Some of the diners are glancing our way, but very discreetly. And the ones closest to us are sitting stiffly, looking very uncomfortable.

Is it because of me? Am I making them uncomfortable because I clearly don’t belong here? I consider asking Darian, but heseems to have put a lot of thought into this…dinner. I don’t want to ruin it.

In the back of my mind, I know that this dinner is really a date. But I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

“How did you even get a table here?” I whisper.

Darian gives me a half smile. “I pulled some strings. I thought you’d like the food.”

I open my mouth to tell him that I would have preferred pizza and something cheap to drink, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings, so I decide to keep my opinion to myself.

“Oh,” Darian suddenly says. “I got you something.” He reaches over to a small table by his side and picks up a gift bag from what looks like a very expensive store. “Here.”

Now I really feel uncomfortable. “You’re already doing so much. I don’t need this. I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s fine. It’s a gift. Your birthday present.”

I take the bag as I glance at him. “Why did you get me a birthday gift? I already—You’ve already given me so much: the cupcakes and all the food you’ve been sending me…”

“Your friend got you an entire outfit. I had a feeling you wouldn’t let me buy you an even nicer one, so I thought I’d get you this instead.”

I open the bag and take out the softest scarf I have ever felt. It’s emerald green. A stunning color. I could bury my face in this scarf and die happily. It’s so beautiful and silky.

When I look up at Darian, he’s smiling broadly. “You like it, then?”

“I do.” I can’t stop touching it. “But why did you get me a scarf? This is for cold weather. Winter temperatures in Los Angeles hardly ever drop to scarf level.”

“Which is exactly why I bought it.” He grins. “I bet you’ve never had a scarf before because you never needed one.”

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