Chapter 11

Aurora

Jaxson pushes into the washroom, his crisp blue eyes a relief to see after experiencing such a threat from his brother. I am still weak with terror, my cuts and bleeding marks just enough to mask the smell of the second prince and his hands that crawled all over my body.

Jaxson grabs for me to stand, holding me upright in the glass to assess my injuries.

The fiery heat is still burning in my throat, still reeling off the threat, and my wolf is pleading feel safe. Pulling back from his chest, I can only shake my head, trying to make sense of everything that has happened and what came so close to transpiring.

“What happened? Did someone hurt you?” he snarls.

“No,” I lie. “It was my fault, sire.”

He cocks his brow, as if he doesn’t believe me. I can’t piss off his brother more, though, so I do the only thing I know will shut him up and make him forget his rambling questions over the mess in this washroom.

I throw my arms around his shoulders and pull myself close to his height. My lips plant onto his, rapidly moving against his own until he doesn’t doubt for a moment that this was my mistake.

He reciprocates, his arms tightening around my hips and pulling me to sit on the counter, giving him a better angle to have his tongue explore every corner of my mouth. My back presses to the spot the mirror used to be, his fingers clawing into my hips and curling under my ass, grabbing and needing more, begging for more, while I let him do what he wants for now as long as it distracts him.

He pulls one hand from under me, pushing the fabric of my dress aside to expose my hard nipple, freeing it of the dress and giving him access to wrap his lips around it. He makes out with it so sensitively, so slow as he twirls his tongue around the side of it, making my back arch and letting my head drop back.

While I am fearful of how far this could go, I can’t lie and say I’m not enjoying his sensual touch against my body, trading back and forth with his hungry, needy edge that wants to kiss me everywhere without rebuttal.

I can smell my arousal, I can see his bulging through his slacks, and the entire moment is just what I needed to cover the fear of the threat that his brother had given me moments earlier.

His lips travel down further, kissing me all the way until he finds my sensitive core, making out with it under the fabric of my panties, already wet with the expectation of him finding his way down there. We both could smell it; I should have known it would draw him in like a bee to honey.

He kisses my sex tenderly, his fingers joining in every now again until I hiss a breath of pleasure, practically yelling out, only making him work at it deeper, harder, until I break and release every ounce of control to his lips, to his body.

He works feverishly at my core, building me up and then slowing, a dangerous tease while I feel myself accepting the idea of letting him finish, letting him distract me completely by pulling the pleasure out of me with just his lips and fingers.

I find myself panting, begging, “please, please—”

He laughs, the small vibration against my thigh forcing another ripple of electricity to jolt through me. “As you wish, sweetheart,” he says, his fingers finding their way back inside of my body, moving in such a strong, sure way that he instantly hits my most sensitive spot.

I let out a groan, his free palm pressing over my mouth while waves of sexual energy pour out of me, knowing I’d scream if he wasn’t prepared with his hand placed strategically over my mouth. I hear him hum a noise of pleasure while I let loose, seeing him holding his own girth, stroking it wildly at the sounds and sight of me giving into his intimate whims.

I know better than to feed into this situation that has come completely out of my control but seeing him pleasure himself at my orgasm only makes me want him to experience the same pleasure as I had. His hand is still placed over my lips, and I grab his wrist, pulling his hand away just enough to slide his long finger into my mouth, stroking my lips over his knuckle to simulate the stroking of his manhood before me.

His head tips back and he releases at the feeling of my mouth leaving his fingertip.

We break apart into two, exhausted pieces, heaving every breath with a sweaty, trembling ache.

He comes back to me, zipping up his slacks, yanking me to the edge of the countertop and throwing his arms around my back. I follow suit, holding him to my chest, his lips resting pursed against my hot temple.

“What was that about?” he asks with a gleeful edge.

I shake my head, trying hard to focus on anything but his brother’s threat. “Nothing,” I say, a lie. “Just feeling out of place. Wanted to feel like I belonged.”

“You belong here with me,” he says, so sure of his words and yet, I still don’t believe them myself. “You are mine.”

I can only nod, giving up on trying to convince him otherwise for tonight.

“My father has enjoyed talking to you, Aurora. He likes you,” he says, somewhat lifting my spirits. “He wants to throw a small gala for your upcoming birthday. What do you think?”

My heart sinks. It will be my first birthday without my parents, without my friends. He must sense me shifting so somberly at the mention of the gala. He kisses my cheek, his hand pulling for my face to lift up so I can meet his stoic eyes.

“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“I have never been away from my parents for so long, or my friends, and I’ve never had a birthday without them. I miss them so much already.”

He nods, the look crossing his face threaded in so much reality, he almost doesn’t look like a royal as he rolls his bottom lip in between his teeth and works over the idea in his head. “Okay, I can arrange for them to all come to the gala my father hosts,” he says at last.

My pulse spikes, my hands curling into the fabric of his coat while I push myself into his chest for another lasting embrace. “Really? They’ll be allowed to come, sire?”

“Of course, but don’t call me that,” he says, shaking his head. “Now let’s return to dinner, sweetheart. They are waiting for us to return so we can partake in dessert.”

He helps me off the counter, adjusting the slits in my dress while I try to make sure my panties are set back in their spot, trying to smooth out the wrinkles of our little sexual experience in here moments ago and act like it never happened. Most of my cuts have stopped bleeding but the rest we dab with paper towels and ignore the small, pinkish stains where blood had dripped onto my dress.

I ache at the thought of sitting back down at the table with Xander present but as Jaxson leads me back into the dining room, I see the second prince has left the table, his place setting missing from the table now.

We sit back down in our spots, the king briefly exchanging a look with his son, obviously speaking through the mind link. I can smell my arousal still, and Jaxson's too, so I can only imagine Jaxson is being reprimanded through the link for breaking from the table to partake in what we had done.

I try to ignore the thought of the king Alpha knowing I had just had a hot and heavy moment with his eldest son, while praying no one knows what happened with the second son, but the dessert comes out and the friction withers. Plates of small cakes come out, each one flavored with an editable flower, all of them different. The king’s is graced with a white and pink lily, while mine is topped with a white, delicate rose. A purple tulip graces Jaxson’s while Vivian’s dessert holds petite, yellow daisies.

“Where has Xander gone?” Jaxson asks, a dessert not set out on the blank seat where his younger brother had been sitting.

“He was disrespectful at the dining table while you and your mate were in the washroom,” Kennedy says, still chewing over a hard look to his son. He knows what we did; I couldn’t blush harder if I tried. “He seems to think it his place to speak of your mate being a commoner, so I sent him to his room without the opportunity to join us for dessert.”

I go tight with his explanation of Xander’s description of me. Alone in the washroom he called me a filthy commoner. It’s obvious I am unwelcomed here by the likes of the second prince.

King Kennedy glances over me, hesitating with my fork, the word commoner ringing in my ears on repeat. “My first wife, my true mate, Lily, was sympathetic to your people,” he hums, digging into his cake.

I fettle with my folk, feeling unsure how to respond after Xander’s attack.

Truth be told, I know Luna Lily was a kind woman. When she was around, commoners were left alone and there were no hunts for unmated females. At least, that’s what my parents tell me. The aftermath of her death rolled on for years, a hot topic, but it changed the dynamics, too.

The hunts for unmated commoner women became prevalent, and I wonder how the wolves at this table can pretend not to hear the suffering at night of their cries and pleads for it to stop.

I push away my dessert, more sure than ever before that this is a rouse.

I need to watch my back, or I’ll end at prey to the likes of Xander and the many other royal pack members who get off on forcing unmated commoners to fulfil their sexual desires. It is also apparent that sex isn’t everything Xander wants. He forced me to lay at his feet and it made him happy. There’s no doubt that he won’t stop until I’m under his boot; dead.