Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 47: Prince Charming

Chapter 47: Prince Charming

TERESA’S P.O.V.

One and a half months into my new life in this tiny, tucked-away valley, I was still adjusting to the quiet, remote solitude—taking each day as it came, just me, my thoughts, and the occasional clumsy squirrel bumping around outside. But just when I thought I’d mastered the art of hermit-living, the locals decided it was time to introduce themselves. Apparently, I’d passed some unwritten test or observation period, and they all seemed ready to roll out the small-town welcome wagon.

It all began with two women. One bright afternoon, I heard a knock on my cottage door. I opened it to find a woman, a petite whirlwind of energy with blonde hair and eyes that sparkled like she was on the verge of a delightful secret. Next to her stood another one, a chubby, pretty woman with a head full of dark, curly hair, brown eyes that looked almost too wise for her age, and an air that was much quieter but equally curious. She stared at me with this calm, knowing expression, like she was sizing me up with X-ray vision.

"Hey there!" The blond beamed, as if we were long-lost friends finally reunited. "We’re neighbors—I’m Mary, and this is Susanne."

Susanne waved politely but kept her observant eyes on me, like I was some fascinating new exhibit at the zoo. "We thought we’d come say hi. It can get a little lonely out here for newcomers," she said, her voice soft but with a firmness that suggested I’d be joining their friend group whether I liked it or not.

"Oh... that’s very kind of you," I stammered, caught off guard. I hadn’t planned on having friends—friends had a way of slipping out of your life when you needed them the most, at least in my experience. Still, their kindness was disarming, and something told me it was better to be on friendly terms with the locals.

Before I could think of a polite way to decline, Mary flashed another grin. "Why don’t you join us for coffee tomorrow at the café? It’ll be fun!" She made it sound like I’d be missing out on the event of the century if I said no.

The next day, I found myself at the cozy little café in town, where they introduced me to yet another local—Adam. He was tall, scruffy, a redhead with light blue eyes, and a smile that was equal parts charming and mischievous. He plopped down into the chair across from me with a relaxed confidence, as if he’d known me for years.

"So," he said, leaning forward like a detective interrogating a suspect. "Where are you from? You don’t look like a local."

"Because she isn’t, duh," Mary replied, rolling her eyes and giving him a playful swat on the arm, like she’d just explained the obvious to a not-so-bright sibling.

They all looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. "Oh... um, another small town," I lied, pretending to be deeply engrossed in stirring my coffee. "Not too far from here, really."

They exchanged glances, eyebrows raised slightly but politely dropping the subject. "I see," Susanne said with a subtle smile, smoothly changing the topic. "So, how are you finding the valley so far?"

"It’s beautiful," I admitted, surprised by how sincere I sounded. "Peaceful." And for a brief second, I almost let my guard down, allowing myself to feel comfortable among them.

Then Mary leaned forward, eyes twinkling with curiosity. "So, do you have someone special? A husband... or a boyfriend maybe?"

My heart skipped, but I managed to keep my face neutral. "Not anymore," I replied, my voice soft.

"Oh," Adam interjected, looking at me with something between concern and confusion. "How then do you manage alone with your pregnancy?"

I felt my cheeks go red-hot. Oh, great. Apparently, small-town curiosity came with a lack of personal boundaries. Susanne, as if reading the growing mortification on my face, smacked Adam on the back of his head, her look a blend of amusement and irritation. "Adam, you’re being nosy!" she scolded.

Adam winced, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry." He gave me an apologetic smile that was hard to stay annoyed at. "Guess I just got curious."

I tried to brush it off, though I could still feel my blush creeping up my neck. "It’s okay, really," I assured them, forcing a smile. "I’m managing just fine."

After that, they seemed to understand without needing me to say more, offering sympathetic smiles that felt oddly comforting. That was the strange thing about these people—they didn’t poke or prod thoughtlessly. They just... existed beside you, quietly supportive without demanding too much.

Over the next few weeks, Mary, Susanne, and Adam made it their mission to turn me into a local. They took me on trails that wound along the cliffs, where you could see the valley stretch out beneath you in a tapestry of greens and blues. They introduced me to hidden nooks filled with wildflowers and scenic spots where we’d watch the sun dip behind the mountains, casting everything in soft, golden light.

It was hard not to feel the warmth of their friendship wrapping around me. Despite my reservations, I found that I was settling into life here, one laugh and one friendly gesture at a time, with these unlikely acquaintances at my side. And maybe, just maybe, that was exactly what I needed.

********

One day, just as I was getting into the rhythm of cleaning my cottage, I opened the door to find Adam standing there with a mop in one hand, a bucket in the other, and a grin that could rival a sunrise. "We thought we’d help you tidy up," he said cheerfully. "Seems like thislike a this place could use some old hands."

Before I could even form a polite refusal, Mary and Susanne swept in right behind him, chattering away and armed with cleaning supplies. It was like they’d declared my cottage a group project, and I was just along for the ride. Within seconds, they had commandeered my space, assigning tasks like seasoned pros while I watched, mildly stunned but grateful.

As we scrubbed, wiped, and dusted, the atmosphere filled with laughter and banter. It was strange to feel that kind of familiarity I had with my former friend again—a warm, easy companionship that made me forget, if only for a moment, that I had been tossed aside by the people I called friends, like I was worth nothing.

After a while, Mary flopped dramatically onto a chair in the kitchen, wiping her brow as if she’d just run a marathon. "Who needs dreams of riches when you’ve got friends to help you scrub floors?" she announced, as if this were some grand life revelation.

Susanne, the practical dreamer, giggled. "Oh, I don’t know, Mary," she said with a mischievous smile. "I’d still like a little adventure. Maybe if someone like... Adrian Daegon would look my way."

That piqued my curiosity. I raised an eyebrow. "Adrian Daegon?"

Adam chuckled from across the room, where he was dusting shelves with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Oh, Teresa, if you haven’t heard of Adrian Daegon, then you’re in for a treat. He’s practically a local legend."

My brows frowned, my curiosity increasing, "I’ve met him once actually, about two weeks ago? He walked up to me to say hello. He was quite an interesting fellow." I replied.

Susanne sighed, her gaze going soft and dreamy as if she were picturing some storybook prince. "That’s him alright. Adrian Daegon... the most handsome man in the valley. Every woman in town wishes they could catch his eye."

"Not just the women," Adam chimed in, waggling his eyebrows. "Every parent here wants him as a son-in-law. He’s that good."

My interest was definitely piqued now. "So... he’s the local heartthrob?"

"Oh, he’s much more than that!" Mary exclaimed, sitting up straight with an animated smile. "Adrian’s the kindest, most insightful soul. Always calm and polite, never a harsh word. He’s rich as can be, but you’d never know it. Humble to a fault."

I couldn’t help but smirk. "So he’s the valley’s version of a prince charming?"

"Oh, absolutely," Susanne said, nodding emphatically. "You’ll see. He’s like a dream—one nobody can quite reach."

The three of them started enthusiastically listing off his many virtues as though reading from an impossibly high set of expectations. He was "charming" yet "down-to-earth," "handsome" but "intelligent," "wealthy" but "humble." By the time they were done, Adrian sounded like he belonged in a fairy tale, not a tiny, tucked-away valley.

"Let me guess," I said, trying to keep a straight face. "He rescues stray animals, saves kittens from trees, and reads to the elderly at the local nursing home?"

"Oh, no, that would be showing off," Adam replied, shaking his head with a laugh. "Adrian’s too subtle for that. He probably does all that but in a way so humble that nobody even knows about it. Classic Adrian."

We all burst into laughter, and even Susanne, who’d been Adrian’s biggest fan, was laughing, too. But there was something in her eyes—a hopeful sparkle that made me think maybe she, like everyone else in town, held out a small glimmer of hope that Adrian Daegon might look her way someday.

The next morning, I went to the market, trying to shake off my ’friends’ glowing description of Adrian Daegon. They’d gone on and on about his charm, his wit, his wealth, and, of course, his devilishly good looks. It was ridiculous, really. It was as if they were speaking about some mythical prince who just happened to live on this island. I’d just reached for a basket, muttering to myself about people who had way too much time for gossip, when I felt someone’s presence close behind me. A shadow fell over my shoulder, and I turned, already bracing myself for whatever nonsense was about to—

"Good morning, Miss Teresa," a voice drawled, smooth and warm like honey in summer. I looked up, and my breath caught. There stood Adrian Daegon himself, with a faint smile that was almost too charming for this early in the day. How had he managed to appear so quietly?

"Oh! Good morning, Mr. Daegon," I replied, blinking to make sure he was real. The sun was bright, and I wondered if maybe I was imagining this whole thing.

"Adrian, please," he corrected, with a wave of his hand. Before I could even process his request, he was reaching for my basket.

"Here, let me take that," he offered.

"Oh, no, no! I’m perfectly capable, thank you," I said, trying to tug the basket back from his surprisingly firm grasp.

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that felt both warm and completely disarming. "I insist. Besides, a lady in your condition shouldn’t have to carry such a heavy load," he said with a grin, clearly not caring that the basket was entirely empty at the moment. And with that, he started strolling down the aisle, holding it like he was leading a royal procession.

"Um... thank you?" I followed along, feeling both amused and baffled. I glanced around, hoping nobody was watching us, though I felt a few curious eyes dart our way. As we moved through the market, he slowed his steps to match mine, and for someone with such an elegant stride, he managed to make even my fumbling feel like it was part of his grand parade.

"So, do you often come to this market?" he asked casually, glancing at me with a sparkle of interest.

"Well... yes. It’s where I get most of my groceries," I answered, still trying to piece together why he, of all people, was talking to me like we were old friends.

"Ah, of course," he said, nodding with a sense of absolute conviction, as if I’d just shared some profound truth. "But do you come alone every time?"

"I, uh, I suppose I do?" I replied, confused. "I mean, it’s just groceries. It’s not exactly a team sport."

He chuckled again, and I felt a strange warmth bubble up in my chest. "Perhaps it should be. I find everything in life is better with good company," he replied. His gaze flickered down to me, and I felt as if he could see right through all my little defenses. "Especially with someone as interesting as yourself."

I nearly tripped over my own feet. "Interesting?" I laughed nervously. "I’m hardly interesting, Mr. Daegon—oh, sorry, I mean Adrian." His name felt strange on my tongue, like I was using a word I wasn’t quite meant to touch.

"Oh, but you are," he insisted, a slight smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. "Most people would have let me carry that basket without argument, yet you were ready to put up a good fight."

I laughed, feeling my cheeks grow warm. "I suppose I just don’t like to trouble people."

"And yet, here we are," he said, lifting the basket as if to prove his point. I didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so I focused on choosing a few apples from a stall, though I couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on me, curious and bright.

"So, Teresa," he began, casually. "What else do you do on this island? Aside from groceries, of course."

I glanced up, nearly fumbling the apple in my hand. "Well, um, I work over at Mr Ben’s bookshop."

"Ah, a reader then?" He sounded delighted, as if I’d just confessed a charming secret.

"I suppose so," I replied, feeling oddly shy. "I like getting lost in stories, I guess. There’s something nice about escaping to another world, don’t you think?"

His gaze softened, and he nodded. "More than you know," he murmured, almost to himself. And before I could even ask what he meant, he straightened and started walking again. It didn’t help that he carried my now full basket as if it weighed nothing at all, while I struggled with it every time I came to the market.

By the time we reached my door, I felt like I’d been caught in a whirlwind. He handed the basket back to me, bowing his head slightly.

"Thank you for allowing me to accompany you," he said, and I could have sworn there was genuine warmth in his eyes. "Perhaps tomorrow I could give you a tour of the most secret places of this valley? There’s a lot to see, and it’s always more enjoyable with good company."

"Oh, you don’t have to," I started, feeling the words tumble out of my mouth in a rush. "I mean, I’m sure you’re very busy, and I wouldn’t want to—"

He held up a hand, silencing me with a gentle smile. "Nonsense. I insist. I wouldn’t dream of taking no for an answer," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Well... I suppose... if you really want to..." I stammered, my mind spinning with a hundred different excuses I could give. But before I could say any of them, he tilted his head and grinned at me, a look that seemed to say he already knew exactly what I was thinking.

"Until tomorrow, Teresa," he said, his voice a soft, lingering promise but before I could even form a sentence, he tipped his head in a slight bow again and turned, disappearing down the path with the same elegance he’d arrived with.

I stood there, clutching the basket, dumbfounded. Did I just agree to go on a tour with Adrian Daegon? And without even putting up much of a fight?

As I finally went inside, I set the basket down, shaking my head. "That’s it, Teresa," I muttered to myself, exasperated. "No more men, no matter how... polite or charming. You’re not going down that road, not again."

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