---- assistant, stepped inside. "your Majesty, you're scheduled to attend the territory summit in Seattle next month. Should I go ahead and book the flight now?" His fingers, still hovering over the phone screen, froze mid-tap. "Is there a flight to Paris before that?" "Yes, the day after tomorrow. I already booked it in advance." He slowly lifted his gaze, as if recalling something long buried. "Which airline?" Scarlet hesitated. Her eyes flickered with confusion, but she answered, "Shadow Airways, as usual." Shawn paused. A long, loaded silence. "Change it." Scarlet blinked. "Do you mean... adjust the time?" ---- "No." His voice dropped an octave. ''Change the airline." She stood still, staring at the floor, her mouth slightly open. "Which airline... do you prefer?" He didn't answer immediately. I hovered beside him, holding my breath. His claws, now extended, were unconsciously dragging across the back of his phone-over and over again. Finally, he spoke. "FullMoon Airways." Scarlet's eyes widened, but she quickly masked her expression and nodded. "Understood. First-class ticket has been confirmed, Your Majesty." Shawn didn't respond. He sat frozen in place, the shadows under his eyes darker than ever. Then Scarlet left quietly without another word. ---- The office returned to silence, but I stood there, stunned, staring at him. FullMoon Airways? The airline I worked for before I died? Did he... want to see me? My heart thudded violently, but I instinctively shook my head. No. Impossible. Completely absurd. If he really chose that airline because of me, then maybe-just maybe-he wanted to know how miserable I'd become. Or worse... maybe he just wanted to humiliate me. "Kendra, so this is what you've become? A lowly flight attendant, struggling just to survive? Where's your proud Alpha mate now?" No. He wouldn't say that. He was always a gentleman in my memory. ---- Always. But... I still remembered how I threw myself into another's arms-in front of him-ignoring the pained howl of his wolf. I could see it all again: His eyes, bloodshot with red threads of grief. His wolf-furious, desperate-barking and refusing to break our bond. So even if he cursed me, even if he looked at me with nothing but disdain- Iwouldn't blame him. Not when I was the one who tore his soul apart.