DANIEL’S POV
I was honestly convinced I was hearing things.
Ava had spent the entire week treating me as though I were part of the furniture, and now here she was, cheeks flushed, eyes shining like emeralds, grinning at me like I was the answer to every wish she’d ever made.
Before I could even begin to process this emotional whiplash, she snapped upright, her face shifting into an exaggeratedly serious mask.
“Right, sorry,” she mumbled. “My bad.”
Then she attempted a curtsy that would have been absurd even if she were sober, dipping into an over-the-top bow and sweeping her hand toward me with dramatic flair.
“Hello, future Alpha.”
She made it halfway through the gesture before her heel caught awkwardly beneath her, and all her usual grace vanished in an instant.
She started to pitch forward, but Matt swooped in, catching her by the waist and steadying her against him.
‘Nope,’ Thatcher growled, and I moved before I could even think.
