Chapter 7

Aurora

Even with the immaculate bed, so large I could roll over six times and still not hit the floor, I couldn’t sleep through the night. I kept tossing and turning, moving into the suite connected to my room and splashing my face with cold water, thinking it would help, but it only made it worse as I’d lay down and end up weeping into one of the millions of pillows.

I feel dumbfounded at how this situation has come about, and how I should have never gone to the casino at all, but it wasn’t the worst part of the night. I could hear women being raped, being beaten, and I know for fact they are commoners. Royal men don’t hurt royal women like this.

I miss Luke, my protector, my best friend.

I always had a feeling Mary had a crush on him, always staring at him longingly while he and I hung out with our friend group, but I didn’t know she had already had the inclination that they were mates. I bet she knew for months after she turned twentieth, and stood on the sidelines, waiting for him to see her on his birthday and flip my world upside down. I wonder if it would have helped to be let down sooner and know months earlier that he was fated to another wolf, but I doubt the outcome would have made it easier.

It still hurts. It may always hurt. I can’t picture feeling any other way.

There’s a rustling at the door and I jump off the side of my bed, facing the large windows, lace curtains pulled shut over the sunrise outside.

“Good morning, Aurora,” the raspy voice says.

I keep my eyes shut, feeling chills spread down my spine. It’s the prince, of course, and I wait for him to put me out of my misery and beat me like the other females were all night long. Their screams haunt me.

My fingers are numb, my feet tingling, and I feel an odd pang of hunger wash over me at the smell of food being brought into the room. I realize now I am still standing in place, eyes shut, my body rapidly shaking from head to toe.

Peering to the side, I see a tray of assorted breads and cheeses set on the table and chairs across the room near the grand fireplace, a servant ducking back out of the room seconds later. My eyes find the juice on the table, my mouth dry while I imagine satisfying my dehydrated edge.

“Eat, sweetheart.”

I open my mouth to speak, to at least thank the prince, but my voice is absent.

Maybe the food is poisoned or laced with something to knock me out, so I don’t struggle under his body, probably thumbing with hormones and ready to use me like the other commoners.

“I understand that you are scared,” he says with a simple, callous tone. “I’m not asking for you to trust me right now. I just know you will do as I say, Aroura, or you will find yourself at the natural mercy of hunger and thirst.”

I shudder at his casual threat, but I don’t dare move toward the food.

“I have business to attend to on the tip of the mountains behind the palace and I am taking you with me to keep an eye on you,” he adds, something so simple about his words, so fluent and decisive. I’ve never met a man so sure of himself in my life. “It will be best for you to eat and gain some energy so you can shift and make the trek up there. There are mounds of snow piling up already.”

Finally, I give in, something about his persistence is a bit frustrating. “Thank you for the breakfast,” I struggle to say, still feeling like a stranger to this man, to this palace, and wishing I had woken up in my own bed for another lasting day of being with my friends. I stare at the clothes I was brought here in.

“You can go through the things I had my staff put in your closet. Everything in there is brand new and in your size. There should also be some suitable winter clothes in there. Feel free to bring a bag to hold your clothes in when we shift, or it will be hours of walking through snow in this form.”

I give a hesitant nod, sneaking a glance at the handsome prince, his clothes so well oriented, his eyes cold and sharp on my back. I can’t tell if it’s confidence or cocky, but I almost admire his intentional ignorance of any perception I may have of him. At least I know this is him, a little intense, a tad overbearing, but he isn’t faking his persona at all.

He knows I have every right to fear him.

He toys with that power.

I’ll be back in an hour to bring you with me.”

He leaves without waiting for me to respond, and I appreciate that. The door slams shut behind his exit while I focus on the breakfast tray, sitting down near the empty fireplace, in the large, albeit beautiful, silent room and I pick at the food for what feels like forever.

After a long moment, I wander into the closet, seeing rows of ornate outfits, mostly dresses. Some jeans and simple tops are stuffed all the way in the back. I’d never been caught in such beautiful gowns, but I suppose my ability to make that decision was never really a thing before I was even dragged here. Maybe this is what he wants me to feel; exigently overpowered and left utterly without a choice.

I find a set of thick, winter clothes on the bottom rack, a set of black pants and a long sleeve shirt that would stick to my body like a wet suit, while also being warm enough to keep me safe in the snow. There’s a set of boots on the shelf that I linger towards, pulling them to my chest after slipping on the set of tight clothes. I find a small cloth bag and pull it out with me, dreading that I have to shift to run up the mountainside.

Maybe I should bolt in another direction, head for home, but it wouldn’t last long. Prince Jaxson is a ruthless wolf, throwing his power around and subduing any other wolf possible. He’s strong, and he’s smart, and I doubt it would take long for him to put me in line if I decided to run off.

Leaving the closet, I jump, the prince waiting patiently at the foot of my bed, eyes cold on my surface and dropping down the sight of me like sipping a refreshing drink, slowly and lingering on the taste. “Good choice, sweetheart,” he says, tipping his head at my choice of an outfit. “Follow me to the courtyard where we can shift and travel through the slopes.”

I stop at the doorway, hearing the echoes of last night’s screaming in my head.

I’ve learned early on that this palace is dangerous for my kind, but to dare walk through it myself, no matter what the prince claims I am to him, I fear I’ll be hounded by wolves ready to tear me to shreds just for being inferior.

“Let’s go,” he snaps, a few paces into the hall already.

I back up, far too intimidated to step foot out of my secluded room.

“He said move!”

A new voice breaks my still surface, someone grabbing for me to follow by the majority of my hair, throwing me out of the doorway and onto the floor of the hall. I gasp, trembling and trying to stay as small as possible, needing to avoid a beating while I still heal from my prior wounds from the rogue.

I look up in time to see a warrior being flung down the hall, his body light as a feather and yet, so thick with muscle, it had to be the one that grabbed me out of the bedroom and threw me so easily to the floor. I cough at the sight of Jaxson growling through his fangs, ready to shift and tear into his own warriors for grabbing me.

“MINE!” he sneers, his eyes blacker than a night without stars,

He pauses, looking down to me. I jump to an erect stance, gathering the bag of clothes I dropped in the process and feeling so tiny compared to this tall, massive wolf of a man.

“Let’s go,” he says again, his voice lighter now.

I don’t dare test his ferocity and follow him through the palace, keeping closer to him than the other warriors all trailing the two of us as we make our way to a courtyard behind the palace.

The prince stops to change, pulling off his clothes in the middle of the courtyard. It’s as if he doesn’t care who sees him naked, which isn’t unusual for wolves. Due to shifting, we find ourselves naked a lot, but I don’t know him, and I don’t intend to do the same under the heavy gazes of the guards behind me.

He’s a beautiful man, carved to nearly perfection, his body thick and bulging with muscles I didn’t even know existed, his perfectly tanned skin just pale enough to sparkle in the dreary weather and pull my eyes like a shiny silver coin.

He flickers a look behind his shoulder, grinning at my reaction to such a handsome man. “Are you going to shift or stand there and gawk, sweetheart?”

I swallow a gulp of air, a knot forming in my throat. “Everyone is watching me.”

He nods like he understands, twitching hard before he morphs into a large, daunting black wolf. He stretches out into his height, easily the largest wolf I have ever laid eyes on. He turns to face me, towering over me, my stomach dropping at the sight of his deep black eyes, unlike any I have seen before.

He stalks in a circle around me, like a shark smelling for my blood, but he stops behind me, flicking his head toward his guards who all turn around as if on command. He gives me a hard look, signaling he won’t be moving his eyes away.

I take that as my invitation to start, and I do, pulling off my clothes and shoes one by one, my eyes stuck on the blackness of his pupils, watching him just as he watches me, until I stand naked in the courtyard, a cold breeze pulling chills that rush up my back and form around my neck. I shiver.

My wolf pushes through, the shifting process almost satisfying, my bones popping into place while fur covers my exterior, white and clean like fresh powdery snow. I am a little dazed still with the alcohol in my system from the casino incident, and I wobble, blinking slow until I feel fully transformed into my better half, catching a glimpse of myself in the large windows nearby.

My eyes are a simple lavender color, striking a contrast to my clean, white fur.

The prince perks up at the sight of my wolf, stalking closer to me, his nose tipping at my face, giving him access to smell my throat, a notion that makes me uneasy. I have considered just how powerful this man is, but not in this form, seeing him shift into the largest wolf I have ever laid eyes on, making me look like a pup in his damning presence.

His wolf growls a playful noise, pointedly pressing his head against mine. I bow against his fur, feeling his heat, letting my ear pressure his throat. His heartbeat is steady, calm, and he hums a noise as our wolves rub against one another.

He eyes the mountain top, breaking us apart with a small lick of his tongue against my cheek. I back off, grabbing the bag of clothes and holding it in my clenched jaw and trying to forget the feeling of his tongue.

He begins to run, and I attempt to catch up, the prince leaping and bounding with such strength. It isn’t until we reach the top of the second mountain, trudging through the snow, that I see a small cabin up top with a filter of black smoke piling out of the chimney. The prince shifts, standing in the knee-deep snow stark naked, acting like he doesn’t feel the cold temperature. I follow his lead and shift back, exhausted from the run, toppling forward into the snow while my pale, bare skin turns bright pink.

I lean forward, inhaling a frozen breath, the prince moving beside me and pulling my top out of the bag, setting it over my head and putting it on my body. He helps me stay upright to put on my pants and boots, feeling warmer already, hesitating in my new outfit while he takes the other route and embraces the cold against his bare skin.

I can’t help but admire his body, every single part of his exquisite exterior making my face hot. He’s a thing of art, handsome and strong but something so beautifully delicate about him, too. He’s a glass wolf, gentle and dangerous.

He pulls his hand to my chin, tipping my eyes up at the sight of him, and grinning when I meet his gaze at last. For someone so strong and dominating in presence, he seems to enjoy watching me be so unsure around him.

“You’re going to meet my younger brother, the second prince,” he says, brushing a hand down my shoulder, folding my hair out of the way. He glints a smile, the innocent grin forcing my knees to knock.

“He hates commoners,” he declares, blunt. “Don’t piss him off.”