Page 5

W hen we finally arrive at our destination, just outside some moonlit town, I am so sore from horse riding that I can barely stand straight. This day exhausted my body more than a fucking war.

Thank Goddess, I’m a werewolf. It will go away in no time. I can already feel myself healing.

I fish out my phone from one of the hidden pockets in my dress, but there are no bars. Not even one tiny dot of service. Fuck.

I really want to call my mom, but I guess it can wait. I sigh.

“Give me your phone,” Alpha Rogue Prince asks, hopping off the horse after me.

“What? Why?” I look at him and immediately realize my mistake, so I bow and add, “Your Highness.”

“It won’t work here anyway,” he says, snapping the phone from my hand. He’s freaking quick.

I forgot for a moment Rogues live in a place where normal humans don’t exist. It means no common infrastructure and, I guess, no phones. Do they have electricity, at least? I should have done more research beforehand, but I was too occupied with completing all my other obligations before leaving, to worry about my actual life here.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I ask when he drops my phone on the ground before him.

He smashes it a second later with the heel of his black leather combat boot. The screen is cracking and the whole phone is bending.

“What the fuck?!” I ask angrily, whisper-screaming at him. Moments later, I feel the hard knock of cold metal on my cheek.

Did he… Did he just slap me with his sword ?! I put my hand to the burning skin on my face and then look at it in disbelief.

Red. Blood. He did cut me! He cut my face!

“I’m not your fuck buddy, and you will address me accordingly, no matter how angry or aroused you are. Understood?”

I am furious but not stupid, so I bow, trying to ignore my stinging cheek that is already actively healing with a supernatural speed.

It’s just a cut, I remind myself—taking big breaths to calm down—even if I have every right in the world to punch that smug bastard in his perfect nose.

He takes a step in my direction and grabs my chin to look at the cut he just gave me. I don’t have anything nice to say, so I keep my mouth shut like the good princess I can be if I want to. He leans over and licks the blood off my cheek—leaving it tingling and wet with his saliva.

What the—

“Mmm. I love blood,” he says, and I can’t believe how sick he is. “See, you are already healed. It was just a scratch. You are still pretty, don’t worry.”

I’m imagining elongating my claws and racking them through his pretty face.

“Undress,” he says, still holding my jaw in his big warm hand.

I look around, suddenly noticing we are alone on the cobblestone street. Even the horse went somewhere. It is quiet and dark. We barely entered what I think is the rogues’ capital city. The buildings around are still small and modest, but I can see a castle on the hill over Rogue Prince's shoulder.

A fucking dark stone castle! It's not a modern palace version of the mansion where I grew up. No. It’s a gothic-looking real castle.

Rogue Prince looks over his shoulder in the same direction, probably checking what I am looking at, but he does not comment on it. Instead, he asks me to undress again .

“Undress. They’re waiting.”

My eyes immediately snap to his.

“Who’s waiting? Your Highness.”

Please, please, don’t gang rape me.

“Wedding guests,” he answers casually, finally releasing my jaw.

What? Why am I undressing, then? What sick traditions do they have here? I’ve heard so many horror stories from women who our soldiers rescued from rogues, that my imagination is going wild right now. What do I have to endure to secure this peace deal my father so desperately signed with them?

What kind of sick weddings do they have here? And why were we left alone? Don’t they worry about… no. Scratch that. They say he is the most vicious wolf in our world, no one would dare to attack him. Of course, we are both safe here. Well, he is at least.

I’m looking at him, all tall and masculine, knowing damn well I should do what he says, but I’m unable to move. He gives me an irritated sigh with an eye roll and takes a step back. He starts to undress himself, looking at me with his cold stare—unbuckling belt after belt, clasp after clasp, lace after lace until he has nothing on but his black boxer briefs.

“Hm, I’m disappointed in you, your Highness, modern underwear under all this Viking leather crap?” I say, taking off my shoes and throwing them on the pile of his things.

He snorts with laughter, and I can’t help but smile.

I turn my back to him, lifting my braided strawberry-blonde hair to give him access to the zipper of my fancy dress.

He understands it without words and yanks it down for me. I turn again and painfully slowly push my dress down, revealing first my full breasts, then lean waist, skimpy underwear, wide enough hips, and strong legs.

He looks at my body, his eyes betraying some emotion for the first time this long evening. Lust. Yes, I can see the lust in them.

But it’s gone as quickly as it came. The prick schools his features well.

I throw my dress on the pile and start taking off my jewelry. There’s not much. I’m a werewolf, after all, and I need to be able to shift into a wolf quickly if I need to. My hand stops midair with my favorite necklace over the pile. I hesitate because I don’t want to lose it, and it is long enough for my wolf form to wear.

“Someone will bring this stuff to my room later. They know where we start.”

Start what? I wonder, but don’t ask. I decide to go with the flow and take a big steadying breath. Something tells me I will have to take a lot of those while living with this prick.

I unclench my fist, and the necklace falls on top of the pile. Its ruby stone pendant catches the moonbeam for a moment.

I look up. There are so many stars it seems impossible, and the moon is half shy from its fullest, most glorious state. First quarter, how fitting. Half bright as me, half dark as him.

“Good night for a royal wedding, don’t you think?” he asks as if he could read my thoughts. Not waiting for my response, he turns into his huge black wolf form, shredding his underwear in the process.

I gasp, feeling his silky black fur on my naked skin. He was too close to me to change safely, but he did it anyway.

He nudges me with his wet nose like some pet and not the most dangerous predator he really is. I keep to myself the need to pet his fuzzy ears, guessing he wouldn’t like this kind of ‘disrespect.’

I know what his nudges mean, so I let go and turn into my wolf form as well.

I’m bigger than ordinary wolves but still much smaller than him. My fur is as luscious as his but light in color—gray like my eyes with a unique pinkish hue.

With my wolf sight, I notice that his black fur has a hue, too, a cold blue one—complementing his navy-blue eyes.

He is a magnificent beast, but I’ll never tell him this.

He nudges me again, this time my side, and starts to run up the quiet cobblestone street like he wants me to follow. I start running, keeping his pace, side by side, and he doesn’t seem to mind. No, he’s letting me. Maybe he wants to chase me? I start to run faster as soon as I notice all the cute tiny lamps over the street before us. The path. Is it made for us? For the wedding?

I don’t really care why they are here, they are so beautiful. So I run—forgetting about all my problems—paws bouncing off the polished stones. My eyes take in all the beautiful lights as I run through the lit-up path, noticing the first people looking at us from the sidewalks. Then more and more, the closer we get to the castle on the hill.

Rogue Prince chases me for the fun of it, sometimes gently nipping on my sides and tail but mostly just pretending he cannot catch me in time. Oh, he can. I know he can. He just doesn’t want to. Not yet.

We are up the hill, nearing the castle ground, and cute little lights are no longer the only thing hanging above us. Now, there are white wildflowers, too. It is so beautiful I can’t keep up the chase anymore. I don’t want to. I slow down to look at the flowers and lights in the sky above us. The magnificent black wolf beast takes his chance, jumping over me and nipping my neck—playfully attacking me—but not hurting me for real. We are a tangled mess, like some tiny kittens playing with each other. We roll like this through the entrance to the castle ground. People around us are cheerfully shouting, clapping, and wooing, so we stop and look around.

A path of white flower petals between the crowd of smiling people leads to the altar in front of the ivy-covered castle wall. The Rogue King in his velvet red cape is waiting for us there.

We look at each other with a glint in our wolf eyes.

And then we race.

It’s a short distance, but I give what I can, almost tying with the black beast. Almost. He’s a second too fast, but I can’t stop grinning inside. I feel so free. So happy.

We fall in front of the altar and the King. He smiles at us, and the crowd cheers even louder.

Then it’s silent .

Alpha Rogue Prince changes back to his human form. Bending on one knee in front of me, his unruly black hair falling down his face. I’m instinctively changing back, too—my human form on my hands and knees, standing up to follow his lead. I push my half-destroyed braid off my face, as I have never been good at maintaining my hairstyle after the shifting.

Before I can even think about being naked in front of all these people, some staff is throwing robe capes over our shoulders—mine white as snow, and his black as night. We are completely covered.

My hand involuntarily reaches for the clasp of the cape they gave me. It’s a gold leaf, the same as on the black one. They are beautiful and very detailed.

We are in front of each other. The Rogue Prince takes a step closer—so do I. He smiles down at me—I smile back at him. As simple as that. Not a worry in my mind. Not after that exhilarating run in our wolf forms. It was too pure to tint with unholy intentions now, so I don’t.

I am just in the moment. No overthinking, just experiencing. I’m looking into the eyes of the man before me, tuning out everything else, as he looks back at me. Rogue King is saying something to us, to the crowd, I don’t know, I don’t think, I just am. Drowning in those piercing navy-blue eyes.

King gives us chalices with some red liquid. The scent of fruity alcohol mixes with the fresh air as we lift them up.

“I take you as my wife, the Royal Alpha Princess,” says Rogue Prince, intertwining his wine-holding arm with mine.

“I take you as my husband, Cain, the Rogue Alpha Prince,” I say back, and we drink from our chalices with our arms intertwined.

I catch his surprised look for a moment. He probably wasn’t aware I knew his real name. Heck, I am pretty sure he doesn’t know mine. At least not until his Beta or one of the officers recognizes me.

King takes our wine cups from us—Rogue Prince wraps his hand around me, drawing me to himself. He leans and forces a kiss on me.

I give in. Our lips and tongues crash together, and we kiss like there’s no tomorrow, as if it’s not our first time but the last. It’s hot and heavy and so not appropriate for the smiling crowd that is cheering us on right now.

I don’ t care. Not tonight. Not when I am so disgustingly carefree.

But this silly happiness doesn’t last long. It shuts down with the door of my newlywed husband’s bedroom.