Chapter 8

Kiss me, please.

The unbidden thought broke into my mind.

Just one kiss. One kiss to sate me through the night.

My mouth flooded with moisture. I could see the veins in Lysander’s neck distend as he fought for control. The muscles in his body grew taut with restraint.

Then I heard it—the sound of claws slicing out from nail beds. My eyes snapped to the talons breaking from his fingers. My inner wolf flinched as if she’d been struck.

Does he mean to do me harm?

Lysander raised his hand, claws gleaming under the lamplight lining the corridor walls. My fangs lengthened in response. Adrenaline surged through my veins like fire, my body primed for battle. Before I could move, his hand lashed out—his talons slamming into the wall mere inches from my head.

A gasp tore from my throat. My body trembled as I stared at those deadly claws—so close to my jugular. Lysander loomed above me, panting, his brow dropping until it pressed against mine.

“I don’t want you,” he growled, jaw clenched. “I don’t.”

Before I could breathe, let alone respond, he vanished—disappearing down the corridor in a blur of shadows. Likely to his chambers.

My chest heaved with ragged breaths as I pulled in precious air. I swallowed hard. I had nearly been impaled by his talons… and yet, my body still hummed with need.

I raked my hands through my hair, tugging at the ends.

What is wrong with me? I growled.

LYSANDER

My breath caught in my lungs again as I watched Seraphina bend to sniff a flower. It had happened so often, I’d lost count. A part of me feared my lungs might burst.

Three months had passed since Seraphina came to live at the Shadowmere Palace with my family and me—three months of slow, unending torture. Once my mother discovered the blooms Seraphina favored from her homeland, she had the royal gardeners plant them throughout the estate.

Now the whole garden bloomed with them.

Seraphina hummed in satisfaction, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. My eyes dropped to her backside, wiggling with delight.

Stars damn me…

It was a perfect ass. Round. Sinful.

An image flashed—my hands gripping that curve, her breath catching as her head tilted back in pleasure. My cock twitched, stiffening painfully.

I growled under my breath, palming myself. Not here. Not now.

I forced the image away—replacing it with thoughts of rotting food and moldy crypts. Slowly, I relaxed.

Seraphina straightened and turned to face me. Her eyes sparkled with warmth.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” she asked, beckoning. “Come on! I don’t bite. Much.”

She winked. Then giggled.

I swallowed, hard. The knot in my throat refused to budge.

In these past months, Seraphina had become playful, almost mischievously so. Though I had resolved to keep her at a distance from the beginning, the she-wolf had refused to be ignored. Each day, she sought me out—asking to tag along on my duties.

At first, I pitied her. The shadows in her eyes spoke of loneliness and loss. So I allowed her to accompany me.

Then, after weeks of her seeking me out, I began rising early just to find her.

Soon, the highlight of my days became the curve of her smile, the gentle way she wished me good night, the warmth of her presence. The rare times our skin brushed—those became my sustenance.

Before I knew it, it was too late. I was in love.

I approached her slowly, masking my thoughts. “I don’t know,” I said with a wry smirk. “Those fangs of yours seem dangerous.”

Her eyes darkened to deep navy, a shimmer of amber bleeding through. “Want to find out?” she purred.

Damn it. There went my cock again.

Her gaze flicked to the growing tent in my leather trousers. Her eyes widened, and she pressed a hand to her lips, suppressing a laugh. Then, pink-cheeked, she ducked her head and hurried down the path.

I exhaled a long sigh. We often flirted, but sometimes, like now, we pushed too far—and awkwardness followed.

I caught up quickly, and we walked together in silence.

As we passed the large tiered fountain crowned by a marble horse’s head, I paused. Water shimmered like sapphires as it cascaded into the basin below.

My thoughts slipped back to the night I first saw her—sitting there on the fountain’s edge in a moonlit blue dress. Her hair catching the silver light. Her eyes locking onto mine and sealing my fate.

Seraphina stilled beside me. Her expression softened.

“This is where we met,” she murmured.

I nodded. “Seems like ages ago, though it’s only been three months.”

“I know what you mean.”

I smiled gently. She returned it, and for a moment, everything felt light.

We resumed walking, but then—two armored figures approached. Both wore dark plating and matching severe buns. Broadswords hung at their hips.

Royal guards.

I halted. Seraphina mirrored me.

“Something wrong?” she whispered, her voice tense.

“I don’t know,” I said.

She tensed. I reached out and ran a soothing hand down her arm.

“Your Highnesses,” one of the guards greeted, raising his arm in salute.

We nodded in return.

“The king requests your presence in the throne room, Prince Lysander,” he said.

The air dropped several degrees. My gaze snapped to Seraphina. Her eyes were wide with worry, the color draining from her face.

I reached for her hand, squeezing gently. Her eyes searched mine.

Will you go to war? Will you become my enemy?

I tugged her gently off the path, away from the guards.

“You know it cannot be about our kingdoms,” I said lowly. “We’re engaged. My father may have something else to discuss.”

She licked her lips. “You know this alliance is fragile—held together by us. What if your father has changed his mind? You told me he changes his mind for far less.”

I ran my hands up her arms, pausing on her shoulders. She trembled under my touch.

“You’re right. I did say that,” I admitted. “But I also know he wants peace—perhaps even more than we do.”

She looked down, her voice barely audible. “Truly?”

“What?” I asked softly.

“Do we even want this peace treaty?” Her shoulders tensed. “You still speak of not wanting marriage. I see how you look at her.”

Her amber eyes flared.

I didn’t need to ask who she meant.

Rosalina.

My brow furrowed.

“You know what this treaty entails, Lysander. More than whatever… friendship we’ve developed.”

I tightened my grip on her shoulders. “Of course I know.” My voice softened. “I care about you, Sera.”

More than I should.

This she-wolf princess had captured every part of me. I’d never desired anything or anyone the way I desired her.

But Rosalina… the promise I made to Kieran before he died… How could I break that?

And yet… What about my own heart?

“Your Highness?” the second guard asked, stepping forward. “What shall we tell your father?”

I growled under my breath.

Seraphina pulled away from my touch. The cold in her absence chilled me to the bone.

“Go to your father,” she said softly. “I’ll… I’ll be here.”