Page 11

E ven when I can’t stop shaking from the cold, Rogue Prince doesn’t stop scrubbing me until I don’t have a spot of dirt anywhere on my tired body—the freezing water in the bathtub is dark like mud.

He clenches my jaw again but puts the cloth away. He’s done. I shake, but he just stands there.

I realize that the whole time he had been scrubbing me, I was absently looking at his impressive abs, pecs, and biceps, straining and stretching with his every movement.

At that thought, I shoot my eyes back up to his face, slightly ashamed.

“I am your husband; you can look at me,” he says with a smug smile.

I lower my gaze, trying to guess what that feeling is that tightens my chest. Probably sadness.

He lifts my chin and kisses my lips.

He likes kissing, I think.

I do, too, but not right now. I’m freezing and I’m hungry and mad and so confused. I feel weak.

“Can I step out now? Alpha?” I ask against his kiss, trying not to cry with frustration.

“You can do whatever you like,” he says with a wink but probably doesn’t mean it .

I try to leave the water, but he stops me. I want to scream, but I bite my lip instead. He lifts me, though, and carries me to the bed. I’m still wet and shaking.

He takes a few steps back and throws me a towel. He comes back and stands before me while I’m drying myself desperately.

He takes off his black leather pants while looking into my eyes. Then takes my towel and forcefully pulls away the covers from under me. I fall to the floor.

He has me where he wants me—kneeling naked before him.

I don’t overthink it. I just reach my hand to him, palming his hardening penis through his black underwear.

“I hope your mouth is warmer.”

I don’t know if he’s joking or serious. I lift my gaze and drown into his navy-blue eyes. His scent, the scent of my true mate, doesn’t help either. I’m lost.

I take off his boxer briefs while holding his stare because I think that’s what I’m supposed to do.

He closes his eyes before I can take him and lifts me by the arms with a scary growl.

“You don’t have to do that now. You are freezing. Get under the covers,” he hisses.

Is he really more concerned about me than he is aroused? I look down at his impressive erection, very confused.

“Stop staring, or I’ll shove it into your throat without asking, Little Wolf.”

Yup, there he is.

I step back and climb into the bed on all fours. I catch the covers from the edge when he climbs after me and crushes me to the mattress with his firm body.

He’s so hot compared to me that I don’t even want to fight.

I lay flat on my stomach and give myself over to the feeling of warmth spreading everywhere his naked skin touches mine. He leans over me on his forearms, my back to his front. Somehow, he manages to put the covers over us.

I’m getting warmer.

He nibs on my ear and then burrows his face into the crook of my neck. So close to the place where werewolves mark their mates. My wolf part whimpers inside my head, but I do not let myself utter any sound.

He moves his hips, circling them a little bit, and I can feel his hot erection settling between my legs.

My heart skips a bit. Will he ignore his little game from the wedding night and just take me? Or is it him playing that game right now? Making me want his body…

I do want his body. How can I not? Not with his intoxicating, lemony scent. Hell, I would want it even without the mate bond.

“You know how werewolves smell, right? Alpha.” I ask him, finally comfortable enough to not shatter my teeth.

“You mean the smell of the forest and fresh spring air?” he sniffs my neck.

“Yes. And when you have a true mate, you also smell something else. Something special, only for you—”

“Are you seriously telling me about your mate right now?” Rogue Prince angrily rolls over me to my right.

I lift my head and look at him. He’s lying on his back, with one forearm covering his eyes.

“I hate the fucker,” he adds.

I laugh until he gives me his signature death stare, and it feels like just one tiny step from being pierced by his sword.

I don’t know why I even said all of that. I wasn’t thinking, I guess.

I mean, it is a nice topic for friends, but we are not friends, and it’s probably not a good idea to give him more reasons for interrogation. He can’t know we are true mates; my life depends on it. I was too careless.

“How does he smell?” he barks. Curiosity wins.

“Lemons,” I say, and lift myself on my elbows.

“Fuck, I do love lemons,” he admits with a grunt.

I steal a glance at him, and my chest tightens for a second with hope, ridiculous hope, that he simply eats them all the time, and he is not my mate at all.

He is , says my wolf part cruelly.

“We don’t have them here. I haven’t had one in years. Hey, what are you doing?” He catches my wrist when I try to get up from the bed.

“I was just going to get some pajamas or something. I’m still cold. Alpha.”

“You know the number one rule of survival is warming yourself skin to skin, right?”

“Yes, but you are not exactly in a hugging mood right now, so I thought—”

He growls with annoyance and pulls me back to him.

“Come here. And don’t talk.” He wraps his arms around me.

I am still scared of him, but his body feels nice and warm, so I don’t protest.

Let’s be honest, I don’t have a real choice here. We are married for life. Moreover, if we ever decide to mark each other, divorce will be simply impossible, but it’s not possible now either way. So, I am stuck with him no matter what. I could fight him; I want to fight him, but I know it’s not the best way out of the situation.

Even if he didn’t love to casually indulge in acts of humiliating revenge.

“Princess, wake up.”

No, I refuse to.

“Asher…” I hear Rogue Prince’s husky voice in my ear, but I don’t feel his body. Weird.

I open my eyes and blink a few times. He’s leaning over the bed to reach my ear but stands on the floor, already dressed in black joggers.

“Finally,” he’s irritated. “Eat. I want to go for a run before work.”

He sounds like some corporate businessman and not the spoiled shifter prince he is.

I look at his pants again.

“Jogging run or wolf run?” I ask because they could mean either way.

He doesn’t answer, just throws some fabric at my face.

“Alpha,” I murmur before he can accuse me of being disrespectful.

I look at the fabric. Robe. So, a wolf run, then. I put it on and look around.

It’s barely dawn, and it’s a little bit dark in the room. There is a plate with a sandwich on my military book, and my stomach rumbles loudly.

I haven’t eaten since… probably before the bloody office situation.

“Thank you, Alpha,” I say and take the food. I don’t even register what’s inside, I’m starving!

I can feel his impatient eyes on me.

“Done,” I put the empty plate down and follow his lead outside.

We don’t pass anyone on our way.

“Did you make my sandwich yourself, Alpha?” I ask, knowing it can’t be true.

“No,” he admits without shame, “I gave you one of mine. Night shift always prepares my breakfast super early. They are asleep now. ”

That would explain why the whole castle is weirdly quiet.

We go out the back entrance into the garden, where one lonely wolf guards the doors.

The sky is clear and orange, and it’s a little bit chilly, at least when you are in the robe.

He stops at the edge of the castle grounds but not from the city site. The dark and dense forest starts here, and I’m suddenly not so calm about this run of his.

“Are you sure it’s safe, Alpha?”

“Are you sure you are a werewolf?”

I scoff at him and slip off my robe to shift. I stand as a light-grey wolf before him and howl.

He pats my head like I am a pet, not a beast, and then slaps my back to prod me to start a run.

So, I do. I run through the forest, looking back at him for just a moment. He’s out of the joggers and shifts swiftly midair.

I immediately feel chased, so I speed up. He speeds up too—only heightening the weird sensation. Oh yes, he’s hunting me. I’m sure of that.

I won’t give up without trying.

I can hear him gaining on me by the crunch of the forest floor behind. He’s fast, too fast. He scares me. My heart is pumping in my chest loudly, my lungs are burning, my paws are hurting, and my fur is getting smacked by the occasional branches I don’t have time to steer clear of. I give my all to speed up even more.

We are so deep in the forest that it is still dark here. It’s way too quiet. No sounds—except my panting and branches snapping under our paws. The animals are scared of us. Of him. Ultimate predator who’s now after me.

I run into the clearing, and that’s when I feel the graze of his sharp teeth for the first time—proof of his true intentions .

It’s not a playful chase like at the wedding. It’s a hunt.

I am his ultimate prey.

I stumble with my limbs giving up under my weight, and he seizes the opportunity by crushing his huge black body with mine. We roll in a tangled mess through the clearing.

He’s acting feral, but I won't go out without a fight.

I dodge his bite at the last moment, adrenaline pumping through my veins—I try to bite him back with all the conviction.

That’s when my wolf part refuses to help me, and I feel the force of a shift.

In no time, I’m back in my human form, still under his wolf, trying my best to survive. I’m holding his jaws with my bare hands, his teeth sharp, breath hot, and drool dripping on my naked body.

I know I don’t have much chance here. I can’t even elongate my nails into claws anymore. By trying to attack him, I accidentally completely shut off my wolf-shift powers. That part of me literally can’t hurt my true mate. Even if he wants to kill us.

But I can hurt him.

I try to kick his hind legs, but I can’t do much while I have to concentrate on holding his toothy, wet mouth to not lose my fingers. Or head.

I put all my force into spreading his jaws wide open. Finally, something snaps, and it’s not me. I think.

He breaks the contact and shifts back into the glorious, naked human form, crashing me down.

I push him off me and try to catch my breath while my heart beats a million times per second.

I need to run! No. Wait. I wouldn’t be able to run off, and he’s not attacking me anymore. He’s holding his jaw.

I take a big, steadying breath and move closer to him. His cold eyes snap in my direction .

“Don’t say anything, Alpha,” I ask, leaning over him. “I think we have to set your jaw back first.”

I put my hands lightly over his, and he slips them out, letting me touch his face freely.

I try to set the bones back, but it’s hard, and he grunts, closing his eyes shut. He’s in pain, and I thank the Goddess we are not marked, so I don’t have to share it. I try again with more force, and his jaw finally snaps into its rightful place.

Now he can heal with his supernatural strength and be good in no time—so I pat his arm and get up.

I look around to determine which way we came from. The ground is so ruffled after our fight that it is hard to tell—but by the moss on the trees, I can say where the north is. I start to walk to the southwest, where the castle should be.

Rogue Prince catches up with me shortly, but I don’t spare him a glance.

If I had any doubts about the consequences of him knowing who his mate is, I don’t anymore. I better fucking keep that secret hidden for the rest of my, probably, very short life.

“Wait,” he asks, and I have to hold the annoyed snort in.

He halts me by grabbing my arm, and I’m pushed until my naked back hits the rough bark of a tree. I wince at the sudden contact.

He rolls his eyes at me like my scratched-raw skin is some inconvenience for him.

Asshole.

“What do you want?” I ask with defiance I can’t hide when I’m so riled up after being fucking hunted!

“Watch your tongue, little wolf,” he hisses and leans down enough to level our faces .

I look down, but he pushes my chin up with his knuckles until my gaze meets his eyes.

“You… scared me. I’m allowed to be a little bit shaken up,” I decide on an honest conversation despite some primal need to fight that heats my insides right now.

It’s not like I’ll be able to get rid of him soon. I have to live with this guy!

“Aren’t you always scared of me?” he asks with a smirk and a glint in his usually cold navy-blue eyes.

No, I realize. Not in that life-threatening way. He is a scary bastard, and he has this huge reason to kill me that he can discover any moment, but I’m not inherently scared of him .

Not like I’m scared of his father.

“I’m scared of the Rogue King,” I whisper, looking down again, which is a big throbbing mistake. The fucker is hard right now? After almost killing me just for fun?

“You should be,” he says, straightening up. And there is something in his tone of voice that sounds like a bitter truth.

“What do you mean?” I seek his eyes again.

He shrugs his shoulders, looking to his right absently.