Page 77 of Rogue Alpha Prince
“It does sound so romantic!” Queen says, and there is a lot of agreement around the table. “Do all of your weddings look like that or only the royal ones, Your Highness?”
I imagine cutting off all of their heads. It would be more on-brand for me than what I‘m about to say.
“All of them. I have been at every wedding, of all werewolves in our land, since I was born, so I can attest to that. But normally, as the Alpha, I am the one who weds the couples, not the King.”
As suspected, I get some curious glances at that, even from Asher. I guess it’s hard to imagine me marrying people when all they know is my ruthless side. Well, that’s all they ever let me be.
I made sure I am damn good at it.
“I wish we could adapt it to our lands as well. But we usually have some human friends attending,” Queen starts explaining, as if I was interested. I am not. “So, we do the first shift as a married couple on the wedding night, only with the closest family. It’s a lovely and intimate tradition, but I must admit this running in wolf forms sounds truly magical!”
I nod.
“I heard you can feel your mate. Who is it?” Ella asks, her eyes boring into Asher. I can sense I am still stressing her with my existence, but also… something tells me her question was not as innocent as she tries to make it sound.
“Some ripped alpha prick,” I answer her on impulse; to show I don’t care about Asher having anyone else.
But I do. I’m so fucking jealous that I barely recognize myself. If I really didn’t care, I would completely ignore the question, and we all know it. Fuck.
“So, you then? YourHighness,” Ella shoots back at me with feistiness, and Asher’s mom gasps.
Asher immediately grabs my right hand under the table, where, sure enough, I already hold a knife. She knows me well already.
I lean over and whisper in her ear, “You don’t think I have one in the other hand?”
She squeezes my arm and smiles at everyone. Well… she did warn me I would want to kill Ella and asked me not to do that.
I put my knife back into the holder on my pants, and the poor girl swallows a lump in her throat—not even realizing how close she was to getting it cut.
“Goddess, I remember so vividly when I first smelled my mate—” says the girl on the left of Ella. It’s obvious she wants to defuse the situation.
“—Mangoes!” She finishes at the same time as the teenager, who looks like no one from the adult group here, except for being pale white.
“Is it always a fruit you both love, or is it sometimes something else?” I can see that Ella gets easily distracted.
Something is not right, but I can’t pinpoint it. Is Asher a bit stiffer than a few minutes ago, or is it just me? I keep her fingers in my right hand. Why is she so nervous? I don’t like it.
“No, right, Dad?” she asks, obviously knowing the story of her parents.
The Alpha King looks unamused by the whole situation. Or maybe a little bit angry. Hard to tell.
“Usually you both smell different scents, but they are something you both adore.”
“What does Aunt smell like?”
His eyes lit up at Ella’s truly innocent question.
“Oh, that was a tough one. I couldn’t figure it out for the longest time… petrichor. Rain.”
“And the king smells like sandalwood. At first, I swear he tried to throw me off by using some human perfumes,” Asher’s mom laughs.
“What scent do you smell, Ash?” Ella plays oblivious to my raging jealousy.
I realize she led this whole conversation exactly where she wanted. It was petty and very teenage-girl-like, but I am impressed, nonetheless.
She knows how to fight without drawing blood. A true princess, after all.
“Lemon,” I answer her again before Asher can.
