Chapter 72

Hannah

I blinked slowly. “What’s going on here?” I asked carefully, shifting my gaze between Noah and the two people sitting with him.

Noah rose smoothly to his feet, dusting off the front of his shirt. “We have a special guest arriving tomorrow morning,” he explained, his tone clipped and all-business… as usual. “It’s necessary that we both look our absolute best.”

My brow furrowed. A special guest? That was the last thing I wanted to deal with right now. All I had been craving was a long, hot bath and then slipping into bed early with a book and a cup of steaming tea.

Alone.

“I’m tired, Noah,” I protested wearily. “Can’t we just—”

“This guest is extremely important, Hannah,” he cut me off, holding up a hand to silence me. “Which is why I’ve hired you an esthetician—” he gestured to the woman sitting on the couch “—to give you the full treatment.”

I eyed the woman warily.

“Treatment?” I echoed, tearing my gaze away from her and back to Noah. “What sort of treatment?”

“Massage, hair, facial, the works,” Noah replied, tone leaving no room for argument. “Don’t worry, Hannah. You’ll be in good hands.”

A massage and a facial... That didn’t sound entirely terrible, I had to admit. My tired muscles ached at just the thought. But still, the idea of having to be constantly primped and prodded in preparation for some stranger’s unexpected arrival didn’t exactly appeal to me at the moment.

“Tell me,” I said slowly, narrowing my eyes as I studied Noah’s face, “who, exactly, is this special guest we’re expecting?”

“The Luna Queen herself will be paying us a visit.”

At first, I was confused. But then I started to put two and two together.

Drake was the Luna Queen’s very own nephew. She utterly adored him, from what I had gathered over time. And, seeing as how he was on the Alpha Council this year…

Yes. It all made sense now; the Luna Queen was coming as part of the selection process for the Lunar Festival.

Dread coiled low in my belly at the thought of hosting her in my own home. I had only met the Luna Queen once before, years ago at Drake and Zoe’s wedding shortly after Noah and I had wed.

I remembered her clearly—a petite, hardy old woman with a perpetually pursed mouth and a ramrod-straight posture that made her appear even more rigid.

She was notoriously harsh in her judgments as well, never one to mince words or spare feelings. I knew, now, why Noah had hired these estheticians—every hair had to be perfectly in place, each cosmetic treatment absolutely flawless. The Luna Queen was old-fashioned, a true stickler for protocol and tradition.

If she found even the tiniest of flaws in a candidate’s appearance or behavior… well, it wouldn’t bode well for them. And now, Noah was telling me that she would be here. At our home. Watching my every move, scrutinizing every last detail.

I suppressed a shudder at the thought. No wonder Noah had hired professionals—he wasn’t taking any chances on either of us embarrassing ourselves.

“And I take it you’re also undergoing treatment?” I asked Noah, gesturing to the male esthetician behind him.

He nodded. “I am.”

As if sensing my next question, the woman cleared her throat politely.

“We will be performing your treatments in private rooms,” she said softly, bowing her head politely as she spoke. “I believe you and I are to be set up in your master bedroom, Luna.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but quickly shut it again with a slight frown. I saw the slight look of understanding pass between the two estheticians. The knowing look that they shared told me all I needed to know: they would be talking about this later.

About how the Alpha and Luna of Nightcrest refused to share a room for their massages.

No. If Noah and I did this separately, and word got out… that could prove disastrous when it came time for the Luna Queen’s visit. She would be able to sense the tension between us, the lack of intimacy, and it could severely hurt our chances of being selected.

I had to find a way to get ahead of this. To control the narrative, at least for the time being.

Before I could second-guess myself, I turned on my heel, crossing the room in two quick strides to slip my hand through the crook of Noah’s elbow. He stiffened almost imperceptibly at the contact, but didn’t pull away—likely too stunned to react.

“Actually,” I purred, plastering on a sickly sweet smile as I gazed up at Noah through my lashes, “I think a couple’s massage sounds lovely, don’t you, darling? It’ll be like a couple's spa night—a chance for us to spend some quality time together.”

I paused, letting out a theatrical sigh as I glanced back over at the estheticians. “He’s so busy all of the time. I’m sure you two don’t mind if we move everything into the master bedroom.”

“Not at all,” the man and woman replied almost at exactly the same time.

Noah’s eyes widened ever so slightly, the tips of his ears flushing a shade of red as the realization dawned on him. I squeezed his arm meaningfully, holding his startled gaze as I silently willed him to understand.

We would have to put on a convincing performance if we wanted to sway the Luna Queen. And that meant making it appear as though we were still the perfectly enamored couple we had once been… at least on the surface.

For a few moments, Noah simply stared at me, his expression carefully blank. Then, finally, I saw understanding flicker through the green depths of those eyes.

“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat as he straightened up to his full, impressive height. “A couple’s treatment does sound nice.”

I beamed up at him with what I hoped was a convincingly adoring look, resisting the urge to let out a sigh of relief. He had agreed to my ruse, for now.

“Wonderful,” the woman said, gathering up her bag and gesturing for us to lead the way. “Let us get started, then.”

With that, Noah tilted his chin and led the way toward the stairs leading to the master bedroom. I tightened my grip a fraction on his arm and followed, although his steps were a bit too long for me to comfortably keep up.

Finally, we stepped into the master bedroom—my bedroom, a bedroom that Noah had not called his own in a very long time. The light was already on a dim setting, and there were flickering candles placed around, casting the room in a warm, cozy glow. The scent of patchouli and sage filled my nostrils, almost dizzying but in a pleasant sort of way.

As the male esthetician scurried away to gather the second massage table, the female esthetician handed Noah and I each a plush white robe embossed with the name of the spa on the front.

“I’ll step out for a minute while you get ready,” she said with a polite smile as she backed out of the room. “Please undress completely.”