Chapter 140 - 17
(ALICE)
Alpha Black’s son is only a couple years older than me, and he takes great pleasure in tormenting me. If Willow is manipulative and uses her words to flay me, Cyrus is not above using his fists. He has done everything to me, from shoving my face in the dirt to pushing me off a roof once. I actively avoid him. I’m pretty sure he wants me dead. Or maybe he likes the torture part. Either way, he’s got a sadistic nature, and I’m always at the receiving end of it.
"What do you want, Cyrus?"
Like his father, Cyrus has light brown hair and soft brown eyes that give him a deceptively kind appearance. "You have some nerve coming here. Or maybe I should say "confidence," he smirks. "Were you hoping to find yourself a mate? That’s really optimistic of you. You know nobody wants —"
"That’s quite enough," Mary says sharply.
Cyrus narrows his eyes. "Oh. You brought your little healer friend, did you?"
Healers cannot be disrespected in wolf society. So, Cyrus cannot do or say anything nasty to Mary. It’s one of the perks of being her friend. If she’s around, nobody will mess with me. The most Cyrus can do is ignore her.
"Yes, she did." Mary crosses her arms over her chest. "Go away, Cyrus. She has every right to be here, just like you do. Maybe you should focus on finding yourself a mate rather than picking on somebody else."
Cyrus makes a sound of disgust. "Just you wait. Some old, fat, balding shifter will take her just for a pity fuck. That’s all she’s good for."
"Have you said your piece?" Mary demands, her eyes flashing. I can see that she’s ready to punch Cyrus. I hold her back.
"Let him talk." I try to calm my friend. "He’s not going to hurt me in front of anybody here. Besides, this may be the last opportunity he has to say anything to me."
Cyrus stares at me. "How come? Are you going to go kill yourself or something, Firecrotch?"
The mention of my nickname does not faze me. The children I grew up with chose the most degrading name they could think of, and it stuck with me for years. Even the adults in our pack are not above using it when they really want to hurt me. It doesn’t bother me that much. They can say what they like. Doesn’t make it true.
"No." I take a step toward him, sneering. "I am planning to leave. You can find somebody else to torment."
"Leave?" Cyrus scoffs. "Where are you going to go? I doubt you have any savings. Forget money; who would take you in? My father has been kind enough to tolerate you all these years. No other pack—"
"Who said I’m going to choose to live with a wolf pack?" I laugh. "I’ve had enough of wolves. If I don’t find a mate here, I would much rather live among humans."
Cyrus looks shocked. "If you live among humans, you’ll be considered a traitor to your kind."
"You already consider me to be much worse than a traitor," I point out.
Cyrus studies me, his eyes narrowed. "You’re bluffing. If anything happens to you, you won’t even be able to see a healer. You know that, right?"
I shrug. "Still beats living with your pack."
He tilts his head. "You seem to have found yourself a spine, Firecrotch. Maybe I should give it a trial run?"
He gives me a meaningful smile, and I bare my teeth. "Give it your best shot. In fact, why don’t you hit me in front of the whole ballroom? Your father’s watching from the corner. Why don’t you show everybody what kind of son he’s raised?"
"You bitch!" Cyrus steps toward me, his posture threatening, and I simply raise my eyebrows.
"Let’s face it. You don’t have the balls to attack me in a public setting like this. This is not your pack’s territory, where everyone will turn a blind eye. It’s the royal palace. Everything you do here reflects on your father."
Mary nods at me proudly.
"Why don’t you show me that attitude once we return home?" Cyrus gives me a chilling smile.
I smile back.
He storms off, and Mary’s expression turns worried. "You shouldn’t antagonize him. He’s going to kill you when we get back."
"Who says I’m going back?"
"What?"
I don’t get the opportunity to answer her because the royal family arrives just then. We stay in the back of the ballroom as the speaker announces, "King Griffin Wild and Crown Prince Darian Wild."
Mary and I both freeze. "There’s no way," Mary chokes.
My mouth feels dry. "Maybe we misheard."
"Neither of us did mishear the same thing," Mary replies slowly. "Maybe you heard his name wrong when he told you what it was?"
"Th–that’s a definite possibility," I stammer. "I—You know I don’t pay attention a lot of the time. Maybe I just wasn’t—"
"Oh, who are we kidding?" Mary grabs my wrist and pulls me forward till we can see the king and prince.
The king is old and frail, almost sickly looking, but my eyes are on the man standing beside him. In his official royal attire—a white, silk shirt accompanied by royal blue coattails, gold cuffs, and a red sash—Darian looks majestic and formal and so incredibly handsome. His pants are a dark color, perfectly tailored to him.
Why oh why did I not look him up? All I had to do was run a search on his name using the database at our pack’s library. He looked me up. No wonder he was so surprised at dinner when I still didn’t know his identity. I want to bury my face somewhere. I was so rude to him, and all along, he was the prince of the Wolf Kingdom!
"This is such a Cinderella moment," Mary whispers excitedly. "I can’t believe it. You’re dating the prince!"
I don’t know how to feel. As the king and Darian walk past us, even though there are still a few people in front of us, Darian glances in my direction, and the corner of his mouth tilts up in that wicked grin of his.
His eyes meet mine for just a moment, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to duck like a coward.
"Did he really think this was a good idea?" I hiss.
"To be fair, you could have looked him up," Mary giggles, echoing my thoughts.
"How did you not know?" I growl at her. "He’s the prince of the Wolf Kingdom. You should have recognized his name."
"Don’t blame me," Mary responds defensively. "You know we are not taught anything about the Wolf Kingdom until we come of age. I didn’t even know the name of the king before now."
"It’s a stupid rule," I mutter. Mary clearly was not paying attention the first time she was here. I could have been spared this whole ordeal if I’d just been taught the identity of the royal family.
The king and the prince take their seats, and then Darian gets back up and begins to speak.
"Welcome to the mating gathering of the Wolf Kingdom. The moon is about to get in position, so all the eligible males, please step forward."
Darian does not step forward.
As soon as the men come to stand in the center of the room, where the moon is shining, I see the magic unfold. Red strings form around the men’s fingers, and the strings weave through the crowd.
Delighted gasps and other sounds come from the females in the ballroom. The males who don’t find their fated mates have their red strings disappear. Disappointment is obvious on their faces, and much to my petty delight, Cyrus is one of them. I smirk, and when he looks at me, I see the rage in his eyes.
Fat lot he can do to me now.
No fated mate thread reaches me, and I’m not surprised. I expected as much.
Once everybody clears off the stone, it’s Darian’s turn to step into the moonlight. I watch with bated breath, and for a moment, nothing happens. Then, the thread forms around his finger and darts toward the spectators. Once again, I expect nothing to come of it.
However, out of nowhere, I feel a tingling sensation on the ring finger of my left hand. I look down, and the string has reached me. I don’t even have the time to process what is happening before it wraps around my finger. The crowd parts, stunned looks on every face.
I see Willow standing on the other side of the ballroom, and her eyes are tight with fury.
I look up at Darian, and to my surprise, he doesn’t look shocked. It’s almost as if he were expecting this. He grins at me.
My heart is beating like a steady drum inside my chest. Fated mates?
Of all the things I expected to happen at the mating gathering, this was not one of them.