I’m watching Ella retreat, wishing I could read her complex mind as easily as I read her body language. My wolf is angry with me for upsetting her, but I’m not sure what I did wrong. She liked kissing me—there’s no doubt about that. I also don’t know why she would think I’m the casual type; I’m anything but. Still, she seemed truthful when she said she didn’t want more. What am I supposed to do with that information?
Ella is clearly off-kilter, and it’s my responsibility to comfort her. But if she won’t tell me why she’s agitated, how am I supposed to help? I know exactly what I’d do if she were a she-wolf, but I don’t know if a human would react the same way. My wolf wants me to try—he’s convinced Ella is like any other unsettled mate, needing a firm hand to remind her who’s in charge so she’ll share her worries. After all, she made me promise to communicate more—shouldn’t that go both ways?
So caught up in my thoughts, I almost didn’t notice the Prince approaching, a knowing smirk on his face. “I remember those days,” he remarked. “When you first meet your mate and can’t keep your hands off each other—when you miss them even if they’ve only left the room for a moment. It’s a wonder you haven’t marked her yet.”
My blood boiled so quickly that I’d barely processed his words before my wolf clawed at my skin. The only person who knows Ella hasn’t been marked is Roger… if the Prince knows, it’s because my brother told him.
I’m not surprised by Roger’s betrayal. He’s been out to get me since day one, and his heroics with the rogues were always suspect. It was too convenient that he happened to arrive just in time when Ella needed him that fateful night, and his subsequent overtures of friendship have been completely out of character. For a moment, I wondered if he truly had a soft spot for the human—if anyone could thaw his frozen heart, it’s Ella—but now the truth is clear.
More importantly, the crown and kingdom are on the line. If people think something is wrong with Ella and me, they’ll lose confidence in my ability to lead. We have to appear strong and united to succeed, and Goddess forbid anyone suspects we aren’t truly mated; it could ruin everything. The Prince will undoubtedly use this information against me in the campaign unless I convince him it would backfire. If he believes that, he won’t share it, and the only way I know to make him think this is by marking Ella and showing him the evidence, or by repeating the lie I told my brother.
The former option is more tempting than I’d like to admit. My wolf urges me to mark Ella despite her being human and incapable of being my mate. He wants her, and he doesn’t seem to care about the difficulties. I already hear his growl whenever I look at her. But it can’t happen; I’d never be able to mark her without damaging her delicate flesh. The bite could permanently injure her.
“You know I pride myself on self-control,” I finally answered the Prince, shaking myself from my thoughts. “We’re waiting until our mating ceremony.”
The Prince scoffed. “Self-control, or lack of passion? Not a good sign for an Alpha. If your mate isn’t taking the edge off, how stable will you be to govern?”
“One thing you don’t have to worry about with Ella and me is passion,” I said, my voice imbued with honesty. I don’t need to have slept with Ella to know we aren’t lacking in that area. She overflows with sweet submission and fiery passion, and I can’t imagine a more perfect fit for my desires. Sometimes I feel guilty comparing her to Lydia, but they’re so different I can’t help myself. Lydia was skilled but always distant in bed. She let me dominate her physically but never emotionally—creating distance long before she left. Ella, on the other hand… I know that if she gave herself to me, she would give herself completely. She throws herself, body and soul, into everything she does—leading with her heart. The challenge is convincing her to take the leap. I can see how skittish she is after Mike’s mistreatment, and who knows what other traumas she’s survived. She clearly doesn’t enter relationships lightly… Is that why she’s behaving this way tonight? Does she truly not want anything romantic from me? Is it purely physical for her, and she’s not interested in being with someone without an emotional connection? Or does she feel as strongly as I do but holds back out of fear or uncertainty?
“I presume you’ve already set a date for the mating ceremony, then?” The Prince prompted, clearly annoyed he didn’t have my full attention.
“Of course,” I lied. We’ve made no such arrangements, the story solely for Roger’s sake.
“But not before the wild hunt, I take it?” he guessed, even cockier now. “You really think you can get through the night without marking her?”
“As I said, self-control,” I repeated, though worried. I’d started to warn Ella before she left, but the Prince’s mockery made me more determined than ever to hold out. “We’ll be mated exactly one month after our pup is due—at the summer solstice.”
“An auspicious day,” the Prince nodded, looking angry. He knows as well as I do that royal mating ceremonies are not to be taken lightly, and are often planned around major holidays when the Goddess’s magic—and our own—is strongest. Naming this date implies I’m assuming I’ll win the campaign and that Ella and I will have no problems delivering the kingdom its heir. Besides, the pack will embrace the idea of a royal wedding far more eagerly than a private ceremony for a contender. Some might vote for me for the occasion alone—of course, that’s not how I want to win, but this is life or death; I can’t afford to be noble. “You must be sure of your victory,” the Prince continued, his tone too smug. He’s clearly pushing back at my power play, but his smirk makes me worry his confidence isn’t a bluff.
“It will be an important day for my family whether I win the campaign or not,” I shrugged. “Only the Goddess knows what the future holds, but I know my mating day with Ella will be one for the ages, king or not.”
The Prince laughed humorlessly. “That’s one way of looking at it.”
“Do you have another?” I snapped.
“In my opinion, a true Alpha makes his own destiny,” the Prince answered ominously.
My spine stiffened. Is the Prince alluding to my father’s attack? To his own father claiming the throne by eliminating the competition? Is he confirming he plans a similar act to keep me from winning? To take credit for the attack on Ella? He’s always been my prime suspect, but it’s one thing to believe it without proof, and another to have a confession rubbed in your face. Surely he’s not that stupid.
“Well, as an Alpha with actual experience leading a pack,” I cut him off, the rest implied: unlike him, lazing while his daddy does the work. “I can tell you it’s not that simple. You might be surprised at life’s unexpected twists.”
“Spoken like a man who’s prepared to lose,” he snapped.
I arched a brow. “Haven’t you been paying attention? I can’t lose—I lead the strongest pack on the continent, I have an incredible mate, and my first pup on the way.” I offered a wide, infuriating smile. “In my book, that’s a win—no matter what else happens.”
It’s both the truth and a misdirection. I do feel I have everything I need personally, but I’m not in this campaign for myself. I don’t want power for personal gain; I have to take it to protect shifter-kind and the human world from the Prince’s tyranny. If he succeeds, we’ll likely face civil war and unprecedented abuses. I can’t let that happen.
It’s time I bought a ring. Ella and I can’t keep pretending she’s marked—by morning, everyone will know she isn’t, meaning we’ll have to go through with the mating ceremony even if the rest of our relationship is a sham. I might not be able to mark her, but I can certainly marry her.