Chapter 8

KNOX'S POV I stormed into my quarters, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the ancient wood. My blood boiled at my father's latest demand. He couldn't be fucking serious. "Oh, but he is," my wolf rumbled, smug satisfaction dripping from every word. "And I agree with him completely. Aubrey should move into our quarters. The sooner, the better." If I could manifest this bastard part of myself right now, I'd punch him in his fucking face. "You just want to fuck her," I accused. "No... Yes." A pause. "Both." I couldn't help but let out a dark chuckle at his honesty. "Listen," he continued, "of course I want to mate with her - that's natural. But it's more than that. Having a mate completes you as a werewolf. It's something warriors have killed for, died for, and you're acting like it's a fucking inconvenience." "You sound like a whiny bitch." "No, I sound like a wolf who actually appreciates being blessed with a mate like Aubrey." "And what the fuck do you even know about her?" "Not much yet," he admitted, "but one look at her hands tells a story I'm dying to hear." My mind flashed to the calluses I noticed on her palms—not the soft hands of a noble's daughter, but a warrior's hands. The fact she applied to be my personal guard instead of some pampered lady-in-waiting told me there was more to her than met the eye. But fuck that. I'd never dated, never wanted to. The whole concept of being in love felt as foreign as speaking to a mermaid and just as fucking useless to my position as Crown Prince. He sighed, and I could feel him mentally rolling his eyes at my thoughts. "I fucking hate you." "Right back at you, wolf," I snapped, severing our mental connection. I started getting ready for this gods-damned welcome party, yanking open my wardrobe with more force than necessary. Maybe I could deal with all this Aubrey bullshit once I'd got enough alcohol in my system to dull my wolf's incessant opinions about our mate. *** "You don't even know her," Noah said, falling into step beside me as he pushed his glasses up with that nervous habit of his. "I don't need to know her to know she isn't worth my time." I snatched a glass of champagne from a passing server, already regretting coming to my own damn party. So much for getting drunk before dealing with thoughts of Aubrey—Noah hadn't even given me five fucking minutes of peace. "Really?" His tone sharpened. "Not even the fact that she's the only female werewolf who applied for your guard position—and actually got it? You're not the least bit curious about what kind of woman could pull that off?" I took a long drink to hide my reaction, but fuck if he wasn't right. She-wolves in our world rarely stepped into combat roles. The fact that Aubrey not only tried but earned her place among the candidates told me she had steel in her spine. She clearly didn't give a shit about what society thought women should or shouldn't do, and something in me respected that. "Exactly my point," Noah continued. "And I did some more digging. Her past..." He trailed off with a heavy sigh. My head snapped toward him, my stomach clenching at the pain in his voice. I might not have wanted a mate, but she was still mine, and that tone set off every protective instinct I'd been trying to suppress. "What about her past?" By the time Noah finished telling me her story, my glass was empty and my chest felt like it was being crushed in a vise. All I wanted to do was to find her, hold her, and shield her from the horrors she faced when she was too young to defend herself. A wave of gratitude for my brother hit me—though something nagged at the back of my mind about him being in that territory. Still, thank the Moon Goddess, he found her. Who knew if our paths would have crossed otherwise? "So, think about approaching things differently," Noah said quietly. "She deserves a loving mate, not an asshole." I nodded, knowing he was right, but it wasn't that fucking simple. I'd seen what love did to men in power. My own father nearly destroyed himself when his mistress died—and she wasn't even his mate. Just a woman he loved. The thought of claiming Aubrey, of letting her become my weakness... I was going to be king of this whole damn country. I couldn't afford to have my enemies exploit that kind of vulnerability. "So you'd rather hurt her yourself than risk someone else using her to hurt you?" my wolf snarled in disgust. I ignored him, but the acid taste of shame lingered on my tongue. A soft laugh cut through the evening air, and my body responded before my mind caught up. I turned toward the sound like a compass finding true north, and there she was. My mate. Fuck. The sight of her hit me like a physical blow—she was so goddamn beautiful that it actually hurt to look at her, like staring directly at the sun. The weird sense of peace that washed over me at the sight of her pissed me off even more. "Hi there!" A familiar voice dragged my attention away. Sasha, one of the elders' daughters, slid into view with that same practiced grace she'd had since we were kids running through these gardens. I managed a half-hearted smile before my eyes betrayed me, drawn back to Aubrey like a moth to flame. But Sasha stepped directly into my line of sight, her face suddenly inches from mine, blocking my view. "So, tell me all about the training," she said with that playful lilt she'd perfected over years of court politics. "Was it as brutal as they say?" "Good." I kept my reply clipped, trying to see past her without being obvious about it. "You're always so grumpy after training," she laughed, her hands landing on my shoulders with familiar ease. "It's actually kind of cute." I arched an eyebrow and forced out a chuckle, but my attention snapped back to Aubrey as she downed another glass of wine. My brows pulled together as I watched her grab a second one immediately. Something was wrong—her movements were getting unsteady, her eyes too bright. "Really though, how was it there? Find yourself a mate during all that training?" Sasha's question barely registered. I was too focused on the way Aubrey was swaying slightly as she broke away from her group. "Just admit it—you're worried about her," Liam needled. "Shut the fuck up," I snarled, severing our connection as I followed Aubrey's path toward the gardens. She wove between the hedges, and I hung back, watching as she started... talking to her own shadow? What the actual fuck? Either the alcohol had hit her harder than I thought, or there was something else going on here. Neither option sat well with me.