Abandoned Luna Now Untouchable (Cecilia) novel Chapter 225

Cecilia’s pov

I heard heavy footsteps approaching the dining room, but didn’t look up.

Still chewing, I kept my pace deliberately slow, convinced it was just Amara returning from whatever drama she’d stirred up this time.

Mentally, I was already queuing up all the choice words I planned to throw her way.

But instead of Amara’s signature entrance–high heels, high drama–two strangers walked in.

British. Obviously. Painfully so.

The man had golden hair and piercing blue eyes, his features so precisely carved it was borderline suspicious.

He was pale as porcelain, like nobility or a vampire. Something about him radiated a quiet, curated sadness. Like a man who owned too many limited-edition fountain pens.

The woman beside him was stunning in a different way–chestnut hair that shimmered in the light, cheekbones sharp enough to file a lawsuit, and legs that went on forever.

She moved with the unconscious grace of a runway model.

They both wore that kind of understated wealth that whispered old money and private boarding schools.

And they were staring directly at me.

Not in a rude way. More like I was a modern art piece they couldn’t quite decide if they “got.”

I set my fork down and glanced at Tang, who had already returned to his meal like nothing happened.

“Who are they?” I asked quietly.

“Friends of Alpha,” he mumbled, mouth full.

Of course they were. Sebastian never did low-key–and neither did anyone in his orbit.

With Sebastian absent and Tang clearly voting himself off hosting duty, that left… me.

Fantastic.

I stood to greet them, pasting on my best I’m-totally-not-weird smile.

“Hi there.”

The woman stepped forward, beaming, and extended a hand.

“Hello! I’m Evelyn.”

I shook her hand, trying not to feel like a hobbit shaking hands with a gazelle.

‘”I’m Cecilia.”

So this was her.

Evelyn.

Supposedly Sebastian’s soulmate, according to Amara, who couldn’t shut up about it.

And if she was telling the truth… well. I could see why Sebastian might’ve looked twice.

Not that I cared. Obviously.

Cece,” she repeated warmly, then reached out and gave my arm a little squeeze, like we were old sorority sisters instead of complete strangers.

I blinked.

Okay. Personal-space violation, aisle one.

I took a subtle step back, trying to play it cool while my brain caught up with the unexpected contact.

Then I turned to greet her companion and was hit with a look so cold it could’ve flash-frozen the room.

If Evelyn was a cozy fireplace in a ski lodge, this guy was the glacier outside.

“This is my fiancé, Vance,” she said cheerfully.

“Nice to meet you,” I offered politely.

Vance gave what might’ve been a nod–or maybe a neck twitch–then turned and walked off without a word.

Classic aristocratic energy: speak only when absolutely necessary, and even then, preferably not.

Well then.

What had I done to piss off His Royal Highness in the first three seconds?

Evelyn draped an arm around my shoulders, bending down to my height.

“Don’t mind him,” she stage-whispered. “Vance is always like that.”

“The Alpha isn’t home,” I said, keeping it neutral. “Have you contacted him?”

I already knew the answer. If they had, Sebastian would’ve warned me.

“We were having dinner nearby and figured we’d drop in,” Evelyn said breezily. “Haven’t had a chance to let him know yet.”

“I see.”

I led her to the living room, where Vance sat perched on the edge of the sofa like he was auditioning for a royal oil painting, posture stiff, expression thunderous.

Evelyn, meanwhile, beamed like human sunshine.

Talk about opposites attracting.

This was the North Pole dating the Sahara.

After the usual pleasantries, I escaped to the kitchen under the noble excuse of hot chocolate and a quick call to Sebastian.

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