Page 30 of Rogue Alpha Prince
“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, itis 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.
