Page 113 of Rogue Alpha Prince
He takes a few steps towards me checking me out as well. I smirk at him, take a few casual steps forward and we meet in the middle; my left hand wrapping behind his neck, his head leaning down, our mouths crushing in a hot passionate kiss.
He slams our bodies together, mirroring my attack with his right hand, with spread-out fingers that are arranged in the same way mine are on him.
I smell blood.
But it’s not Cain’s. It’s mine.
I break the kiss and look down. Right palm up, my fingertips are resting on his hard abdomen, and my claws are long gone. I know they retracted the moment they touched his sacred body. My wolf part would never hurt him.
His wolf part, however, is still oblivious to our mate bond, so I have five long Alpha claws pierced into me—my white dress ruined.
I can’t even get mad at him for having the same plan as mine. He is my fated mate, after all. And I don’t mean it as if I physically can’t get mad at him; I can. Of course, I can. It’s just… wearesomehow perfect for each other.
I can’t get mad because that thought is weirdly calming. Disappointing but calming.
“That’s all for today,” I hear the low husky voice of my Rogue Prince.
Everyone starts to walk away without a word, and Cain finally takes his bloody claws out of my flesh.
For a moment there I wonder if I will heal at all. But I wasn’t marked by him, and he has no Lycan venom in the claws, so I should be fine.
Cain firmly puts his huge palm on my wound to stop the bleeding, and cups my chin with his other hand.
“If you need moreduties so badly, you can start helping in the kitchen with lunch tomorrow,” he says with an arrogant cocky grin.
I know he tries to vex me, and believe me, I am vexed—so much—after this degrading bullshit, but I married fucking Rogue Prince, and there is nothing that can break me.
Especially not some kitchen duties. I will go work there tomorrow, and I will fucking crush it and make some friends in the process.
“What, no protest?” he asks amused, with his brows arched slightly.
I shake my head ‘no’ as much as his tight grip lets me. I’m too smart to protest something like that. I leave that kind of insubordination for something more serious.
He leans down and his nose flares. “You smell like my warriors. I don’t like it.”
I begin to question my sanity in coming back to this prick.
Also, I’m not sure what he means, we all just smell like werewolves. Maybe he means scents from laundry, cosmetics, and other things even humans sometimes notice about their favorite people. Probably. But it’s a stretch, because they all live here in the castle and have their clothes washed in the same detergent, and I don’t… wait. Is that a Lycan thing?
He takes his palm from my abs and lets me go. I feel my wound slowly healing and I try to focus on it to accelerate it. I was always good at closing cuts.
“At least we are finally fully matching,” He says, moving his finger between the blood stain on my white dress, and his wet, white shirt and blood-covered veiny arms.
I turn on my heel and stride back to the castle.
‘Fuck you.’
“You better learn to block me from your thoughts already,” he spits, and passes me with an angry step.
I stop in my tracks, a little bit taken aback. Does Cain think I mind-link him by mistake again? I did it on purpose. Hmm… I shrug. Well, even better for me. The same satisfaction with a lesser penalty.
I run up to him because we still need to talk, and I’m surprised when he doesn’t turn to the dining hall. The smell coming from it is incredible, and my stomach growls. I barely ate anything at lunch, being stressed by Cain's absence. That was when I ran out of patience and came looking for him in the meeting hall.
I keep following him up the stairs. We reach the bedroom in complete silence.
Cain starts undressing himself with passive aggression all over his face. I do the same.
“So, do we talk, pretend nothing happened, have angry sex—”
