I followed Cassy back to our apartment in the palace, my hands fisting as I replayed fragments of Matt's grim expression, my father's tightened jaw, the hushed voices of his advisers. The scouts' reports sat like lead in my pocket—three urgent messages in a single day. Josh wasn't just moving erratically anymore; he was gathering forces. Alpha Thornwood, Alpha Redclaw, Alpha Blackstone—all known for their brutality, all seen entering Blackwater territory within hours of each other. My throat went dry watching Cassy's delicate form move ahead of me, her shoulders relaxed, her steps light.
Something was happening. The wolf inside me paced restlessly, hackles raised. I'd never ignore those instincts—they'd saved my life more times than I could count. My fingers brushed against the folded reports in my pocket as I watched Cassy walk ahead of me. Tonight, after our outing, I would spread those papers across our table. I would point to the names—Thornwood, Redclaw, Blackstone—and watch her face carefully as I explained what Josh was building. My father's words echoed: "She's fragile, son. Some truths are burdens." But I'd seen the steel beneath her scars. The way she stood straighter each day. No more locked doors between us, no matter how my father counseled caution. Never again would someone decide what truths she was strong enough to bear.
My father after learning the truth about Cassy's scars and the true monster, Josh Blackwater, had suggested keeping Cassy in the dark. "Some wounds shouldn't be reopened," he'd said. But I remembered her face when she'd finally told me about Josh—how the truth had flowed from her like poison from a wound. How her eyes had cleared, her breathing steadied. I'd watched her rebuild herself with each word shared between us, and I wouldn't rob her of that strength now. Secrets between mates were like walls in a house meant to separate you—they only left you both trapped in smaller rooms.
We made it back to the room and after shutting the door, Cassy turned to me. "What's wrong, Derick?" she asked, her eyes searching mine with that penetrating gaze that always stripped away my defenses. My chest tightened with a familiar ache—the way it did whenever she saw through me so effortlessly. No one else in twenty-three years had ever bothered to look this deeply. I reached for her hand, pressing my lips against her palm, breathing in the scent of her skin like it was the air I needed to survive.
I took a deep breath. "I have some updates about Josh." The moment the name left my lips, I watched the subtle changes in her face—pupils dilating slightly, the tiny muscle at her jaw tensing, the almost imperceptible shift in her breathing pattern. Then came the downcast eyes, her lashes creating shadows against her cheeks—that familiar shield she'd perfected long before I knew her. "I wanted to wait until after our date to tell you," I added softly. "I wanted us to have that time together first."
Cassy gave a short nod of understanding, her scent shifting subtly from jasmine to something sharper—the pine-needle edge that always appeared when she was bracing herself. "I appreciate that," she said softly, her fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around mine. "But I would rather know now."
I sighed and guided her to our couch, watching as she settled against the cushions. When I pulled out the papers, her scent shifted—a hint of curiosity cutting through the fear. Her brows drew together, creating that small crease between them that always appeared when she was processing something unexpected. "You sent Scouts to spy on Josh?" she asked, her voice lifting at the end. The jasmine notes in her scent strengthened slightly, and her pupils widened just enough for me to recognize it—the look she got whenever she found something impressive but didn't want to admit it outright.
I smiled and nodded, "Right after we got back to the palace, they have been keep tabs on him and sending me updates regularly." Then I grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes, "He will never get the jump on us again." I said trying to reassure her.
She bit her lip and looked away. "I want to believe you, but Derick..." Her gaze returned to mine, pupils wide and dark like a wounded animal's. "I know Josh. He would expect scouts. Just when you think you have the upper hand, he always—" Her voice caught. A tear slipped down her cheek, then another. My chest caved inward, a physical ache spreading beneath my ribs. I reached for her, knowing my touch was inadequate against the years he'd carved into her. The helplessness tasted bitter on my tongue, metallic as blood.
I gripped her hands tighter, my knuckles whitening. "I won't underestimate him again," I said, my voice dropping to that place where my wolf and I became one creature with one purpose. "And I won't let him make the next move either." The promise vibrated between us like an oath sworn in blood—her safety wasn't negotiable. It was the air I breathed.
Cassy nodded, the back of her hand brushing away the water trails on her cheeks. Her shoulders squared, transforming before my eyes from prey to predator. "Ok, but we work together on this, Derick." Her voice had shed its tremor, replaced by something cool and unyielding as steel. When she looked up at me, her green eyes no longer swam with tears but burned with a fire that made my wolf stir in recognition. "I won't just be a bystander anymore," she said, each word deliberate as a knife being unsheathed. "Not while he's still breathing."
I nodded, my hands moving to cup her face. Her eyes—those fierce green eyes that had survived horrors I couldn't imagine—held mine without flinching. "I don't just promise to include you," I said, my voice low with conviction. "I need you. Your instincts about him, your strength—they're weapons he won't see coming. We do this together or not at all."
-
After our talk, Cassy disappeared into the bathroom, the soft click of the door followed by the rhythmic patter of water against tile. I lingered by the doorway, my knuckles rapping gently against the wood. "Are you still up for tonight?" I asked, half-expecting her to retreat after everything. Her voice floated over the shower's hiss, steady and clear: "I need this, Derick." While steam curled beneath the door, I shed my formal attire, trading royal constraints for a charcoal V-neck that clung to the muscles I'd earned in combat training, not ceremony. The dark denim hugged my thighs as I moved, the fabric worn soft at the knees—comfort clothes that belonged to the man, not the crown prince.
Cassy emerged from the bathroom in under twenty minutes, her damp hair now transformed into cascading dark waves that caught the light with each movement. She'd chosen a pair of pale blue skinny jeans that hugged her curves, paired with a cream-colored silk blouse that draped perfectly across her collarbones, revealing just a hint of the delicate skin beneath. The soft peach blush on her cheeks and subtle shimmer on her eyelids enhanced her natural beauty rather than masking it. As she crossed the room, the scent of jasmine and vanilla followed her like an invisible trail, and I couldn't help but notice how my mark on her neck, I'd given her last week, nestled perfectly at the hollow of her throat.
I leaned against the doorframe, drinking in the sight of her. "Ready for our date, beautiful?" I asked, my voice husky with anticipation.
"Almost." Cassy's eyes sparkled like emeralds in sunlight as she glided toward me. My heart skipped a beat when she rose on her tiptoes, her delicate hands resting against my chest. "I just need one thing to make this night perfect," she whispered, her sweet breath caressing my face before she pressed her petal-soft lips to mine in a kiss that melted my very soul. When she pulled away, a rosy blush bloomed across her cheeks like a sunrise. "Now I'm ready, my prince."
I traced my thumb along her jawline, then tipped her chin up with a single finger. "Wait until we come back tonight," I murmured, my voice dropping to a growl that belonged more to my wolf than the man. I pressed my lips to her mate mark, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my touch. When my teeth grazed the sensitive skin there, her body arched against mine, a soft gasp escaping her parted lips. The scent of her desire—warm honey and spice—flooded my senses, making my control slip dangerously thin.
Then I stepped back with a smirk, biting my lip to suppress a laugh as Cassy's face transformed into the most adorable pout this side of the full moon. "Down, girl," I teased, dodging her playful swat. "Matt and Nicki are waiting, and I'm pretty sure royal protocol doesn't include making your friends stand around while you maul the crown prince." I grabbed her hand and opened the door, adding in a stage whisper, "Save the mauling for dessert."
Cassy's giggle warmed the air between us. I swung open our door, my smile still lingering—until it crashed against the sight of Natalia, her fist suspended mid-knock. The jasmine-vanilla scent of Cassy's happiness soured instantly, replaced by something sharp and acrid. Beside me, her shoulders squared and her spine straightened to royal posture, her fingers turning to ice within mine. My own wolf, moments ago playful and content, now bristled beneath my skin, hackles raised in protective warning.
Natalia's smile spread across her face like syrup—too thick, too sweet, and impossible to wash off. My stomach clenched as her gaze flicked between us, lingering on our intertwined fingers with a twitch that made my wolf curl his lip. She pivoted toward me, angling her body to cut Cassy from view, and I felt my jaw tighten until my molars ground together. The familiar scent of her perfume—always too much, always cloying—hit my nostrils like an unwelcome invasion.
My fingers tightened around Cassy's hand as I looked at Natalia. Behind her shoulder, I caught sight of the Moonwell family crest pinned to her lapel—three silver wolves beneath a crescent moon, representing the third largest territory in our kingdom and nearly a quarter of our military strength. Our alliance, forged in blood during the last uprising, now hung by the thread of her father's expectations. I watched her eyes flick to Cassy's mate mark, saw the calculation there, the unspoken reminder that her unmated status was a deliberate chess move in her father's political game. The guilt tasted sour in my mouth, but not nearly as bitter as the thought of her continued disrespect toward my chosen queen.
I shifted my weight, placing myself half a step in front of Cassy while keeping my voice diplomatic—the same tone I'd use during territorial negotiations. "Lady Natalia," I acknowledged with the slightest incline of my head, just enough to honor her family's crest but not the woman wearing it. "What brings you to our private quarters at this hour?"
Natalia's eyes gleamed as she sank into an elaborate curtsy, her gaze never leaving mine even as her head dipped low. "Prince Derick," she purred, rising with practiced grace, "I was hoping to steal you away for dinner to discuss the upcoming northern border patrols." Her fingers brushed the Moonwell crest at her collar. "Father sends his regards and mentioned you might appreciate my... personal insights on the matter." Her emphasis on "personal" made my jaw clench, though my expression remained neutral.
I was formulating the most diplomatic rejection possible when Cassy stepped forward, her shoulders squared with a confidence that made my chest swell. She moved with the natural grace of royalty—not the practiced performance Natalia had perfected, but something authentic that couldn't be taught. As her hand settled on my chest, warm and certain, my heart thundered beneath her palm. The possessive gesture wasn't just claiming me—it was claiming her rightful place. Pride surged through me like wildfire as I watched my shy mate transform before my eyes into the queen she was born to be.
Cassy's fingers tightened on my chest as she stepped forward. "Sorry Natalia," she said, her voice honey-sweet but unmistakably firm, "but my mate and I already have date plans. Perhaps you can schedule something later with us." My chest swelled beneath her touch—this was my queen claiming her rightful place. Natalia's face froze in shock, her perfectly painted lips parting slightly before snapping shut, and I couldn't help the wolfish grin that spread across my face as I placed my hand protectively over Cassy's.
Natalia's eyes narrowed to silver slits. "Ah yes," she said, voice dripping like poison honey, "I understand completely." Her gaze locked onto mine as if Cassy were invisible, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. My jaw clenched as her fingers trailed unnecessarily along the Moonwell crest at her collar. She pivoted toward Cassy with mechanical precision, lips stretched in a smile that never touched her eyes. "I'll see you in the morning for more lessons," she purred, letting the last word hang in the air like a blade. Then she turned, her perfume lingering like a promise long after she'd disappeared down the corridor.
When she was far enough away, Cassy's shoulders sagged. "Bitch," she muttered, the word sharp and unexpected from those lips that had been so soft against mine moments earlier. My eyebrows shot up before I could stop them, a jolt running through me like lightning. I swallowed hard, heat rising in my chest as I watched this flash of fire in my usually gentle mate. The wolf in me wanted to howl with approval.