I was stunned.

Today is my birthday?

I hadn’t celebrated my birthday in years—five, to be exact. So much of my life had been swallowed by a relentless pursuit of survival—working to pay off debts, searching endlessly for my stolen baby—that I had forgotten what it felt like to have a day just for me. The reminder should have felt joyous, but all I could think about was Olivia.

The image of her kissing Elijah earlier that day resurfaced, a knot tightening in my chest.

I glanced at Elijah, unsure what to say or how to act. The uncertainty of our situation hung over me like a dark cloud. I wanted to ask if he had agreed to Olivia's request to attend the gala together, but the words got stuck in my throat.

What if the answer wasn’t what I wanted to hear?

Instead, I mumbled an awkward, "Thank you," keeping it simple, even though my thoughts were anything but.

Elijah’s gaze softened, his voice calm but steady.

"If Olivia hadn’t intruded, tonight would’ve been perfect."

A wave of conflicting emotions hit me, and I forced a smile.

"It’s already the most perfect day."

Thea had planned a birthday surprise for me, and Elijah had helped bring it to life. Despite the tension with Olivia, this birthday felt like the first time in years that I was able to breathe, to enjoy something without the weight of loss, debt, and worry pressing down on me. There was cake, a feast, and for the first time in a long time, I felt...happy.

It almost felt like a dream, the kind of happiness that seemed too fragile, too fleeting, to be real.

Thea urged me to keep the dress on for dinner to be “birthday fancy”. She had Elijah put on a suit and she wore a pink dress that made her look like a small fairy.

After dinner, Thea, with all her bubbly enthusiasm, insisted Elijah and I share a dance. Under the soft glow of the moonlight, with crickets chirping in the background, we swayed together. It felt different this time—nothing like the tense, awkward dance we’d shared during the Mate Trial.

Back then, we had been strangers forced together. But tonight, there was a gentle warmth between us, like the beginning of something unspoken, but deeply felt.

As we moved slowly under the night sky, Elijah’s voice cut through the peaceful quiet.

“For the upcoming charity gala, you’ll be going with me.”

I blinked; not sure I’d heard him right.

“What about Olivia?”

“I refused her,” Elijah said simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. “The charity gala will be part of your next Luna lesson.”

A mix of surprise, relief, and confusion washed over me, leaving me momentarily speechless. I tried to take in his words, but my mind kept circling back to Olivia. The image of her kiss lingered in my head, playing on a loop.

She was his fated mate, after all. The bond between them was written in their blood—and the stars, something I couldn’t compete with.

But then, a strange thing happened.

The whisper I had heard before came back, stronger this time, echoing in my mind like a secret unveiled.

"He was supposed to be ours..."

I had no idea where the thought came from or why it felt so true, but in that moment, I was done holding back. I wasn’t going to be the woman who stood on the sidelines, watching her life slip through her fingers.

Not anymore.

Before I could second-guess myself, I rose onto my toes, leaning in until my lips brushed against Elijah’s. It wasn’t planned, wasn’t premeditated—it just happened.

He hesitated for a moment and then met my lips with a passionate ferocity.

The kiss was electric, a surge of emotion that coursed through me, overwhelming and all-consuming. Every thought, every doubt, every fear dissolved in that moment, leaving nothing but the raw intensity of his lips moving against mine. My heart pounded in my chest, matching the rhythm of Elijah’s breath, which had quickened, deepened.

His hands found their way to the small of my back, pulling me closer, and I let out a quiet gasp at the sudden contact.

It was like nothing I had ever felt before—this kiss wasn’t just about passion. It was a release of everything we had both been holding back: the unspoken tension, the unresolved questions, and the undeniable connection that had grown between us, despite everything.

His hand slid from my back to my waist, fingers tightening their grip, anchoring me against him as his lips pressed harder against mine. There was a hunger in his kiss now, something deeper than desire. A need that echoed my own, pulling me further into this moment, until there was nothing left but him—his scent, his touch, his warmth.

His other hand slid up, fingers curling around the nape of my neck, pulling me even closer until there was no space between us.

I heard it then, a low growl rumbling from his chest, vibrating against my skin. His lips hovered over mine for a brief, tantalizing second before he whispered, his voice rough, deep, and full of barely restrained desire.

“You look so beautiful in this dress, Agnes.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as his eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine. Before I could respond, he kissed me again, more urgent this time, and my knees almost buckled beneath me. But his arms tightened, keeping me upright, holding me steady as his lips claimed mine with a fierce, unspoken promise.

I melted into him, lost in the sensation of his body pressed against mine, the warmth of his hands searing through the thin fabric of my dress. The world around us faded even further, and all I could feel was the fire between us, igniting something inside me I didn’t know I had been holding back. My fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him closer, as if the space between us was too much to bear.

His growl deepened as he shifted his hold on me, one hand slipping lower, gripping my waist with a possessive intensity that sent another jolt of electricity through me. His other hand stayed at my back, fingers digging into my skin just enough to make me aware of every point of contact between us. His lips moved with a ferocity that left me breathless, and I couldn’t help but respond, matching the urgency of his kiss, pouring all the unspoken words and feelings I had kept hidden into that moment.

And then, he pulled away just enough to look at me, his breathing ragged, eyes dark with an intensity I had never seen before.

“Agnes,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

His words sent a thrill through me, and I felt like I was drowning in the storm of emotions swirling between us. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. My body responded instead, moving closer to him, seeking out the warmth and comfort of his touch.

My fingers brushed against his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath my fingertips as I tilted my head, capturing his lips once more.

This time, the kiss was slower, but no less intense. His hand stayed firm at the small of my back, holding me in place as we sank deeper into the moment. Every brush of his lips, every caress of his hands felt like a silent promise, a declaration of something neither of us had been ready to admit before now.

I could feel the heat between us building, the tension stretching, growing taut as a thread ready to snap.

And yet, I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. The soft fabric of the dress I wore rustled as I moved, the jewel-toned blue-green reflecting the moonlight that bathed us in a soft, silvery glow. Elijah’s hands roamed the fabric, the cool metal of the necklace he had given me earlier brushing against my collarbone.

The chill of it contrasted sharply with the heat of his touch, making every sensation more vivid, more alive.

My breath hitched as his fingers skimmed the curve of my waist, then settled at the base of my spine, pulling me flush against him. His growl reverberated through me again, low and rough.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered against my lips, his voice thick with desire.

A warmth bloomed in my chest at his words, and I couldn’t help the smile that curled my lips. I felt powerful in that moment, like I had some kind of hold over him—over the man who had seemed so untouchable, so distant before. But here he was, kissing me as if he couldn’t get enough, holding me as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

And neither could I.

I kissed him back with everything I had.