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CHAPTER 1
Grayden
“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”
My arms hurt from doing a handstand, and my throat muscles work overtime to swallow every drop of beer. I keep going, determined to prove to everyone that I’m still the champion.
“Go, Grayden!” Wyatt cheers, raising his glass. “That’s my best mate! He’s the bloody party prince! Woo!”
The gathered crowd picks up Wyatt’s cheers, urging me to empty the keg. My rough estimate tells me that I am about twenty-three beers deep in a very short time, which would kill a normal human. Fortunately, I’m not normal or human.
It’s still too much, my wolf warns me, sounding breathless and exhausted from the rapid work he’s been doing.
Stop trying to heal me, I shoot back. I want to be drunk.
If you continue on this path, you will be, he replies, channeling his annoyance onto me.
Aren’t you tired of having the same conversation night after night? I ask, starting to feel the strain in my arms.
Aren’t you tired of reliving the same thing night after night? my wolf challenges then retreats out of reach as the large amounts of alcohol finally overpower him and his healing abilities.
As every night before, I only stop chugging beer when he quiets down. That’s when everything I put into myself takes effect.
The keg’s hose is still in my mouth, I meet Wyatt’s eyes and nod. Since it’s not our first rodeo, he immediately gets the meaning.
“That’s it,” Wyatt announces, and steps forward to the two guys that have been helping me to stay up. “He’s had enough.”
Both of the guys are wearing the Academy hoodies, and some part of my brain notes that they must be on their spring break. I give them a curt nod when they let me down, ignoring the slight pang in my chest when my eyes land on the familiar crest of a wolf howling to the moon.
“Alright, mate?” Wyatt asks me with a heavy English accent. He pats my shoulder with so much force that I would’ve fallen over if he hadn’t caught me. “Careful there.”
I let out a drunken laugh and shake my head, pushing down the nostalgia. While I loved going to the Academy, I also enjoyed the perks of being a prince.
“What’s next?” I ask, looking around the foyer that’s big enough to easily fit all the guests.
Wyatt follows my gaze and points out at a black-haired beauty. “I heard that she broke up with her boyfriend last week, so she might be up for a good time.”
“Been there, done that,” I tell him, then blow air through my mouth, making my lips flap as they make a silly sound. “The guest list is always the same. Maybe we should find a new crowd.”
“You complain too much,” Wyatt insists and opens his arms wide. “For people like us, not even the sky’s the limit.”
I mockingly raise my brow but don’t have the time to comment because that very same black-haired beauty walks up to us. Her attention is turned on me, and I do not doubt that she’s trying to get some more of my princely action.
She’s just another one of the wannabe princess whores, my wolf comments, sounding as if he’s talking from another side of a tunnel.
Being a prince has to have some advantages, I reply. It’s not like there’s anything expected of a second-born.
“Prince Grayden,” the black-haired beauty greets me and even does a little curtsy. “I don’t know if you remember me, my name is—“
“Portia,” I reply, confident that I got it right, but her face tells me a different story.
“Lady Priscilla Brown,” Wyatt jumps in, giving her a slight bow.
“That’s right,” Priscilla confirms, her perfectly groomed brows raising in surprise as she looks at my friend for the first time. “And you are?”
“Oh, forgive my manners,” Wyatt says with a chuckle. Not that he needs it, but he’s overdoing his English accent, knowing that it’s a hit with the ladies. “Duke Wyatt Lacroix at your service.”
“Duke,” Priscilla breathes, shifting her body toward Wyatt as he must’ve passed some nobility standards she put in her head. “I’ve never met a duke before.”
