Wyatt’s gaze drifts to my father and my cheeks heat with equal embarrassment and anger. I turn in angst to see my father who looks nonplussed.
“Your bloodline isn’t as strong as you think, your majesty.” He scoffs.
My father breathes a heavy sigh, butdoes not respond.
“Wyatt! Watch your tone—” the queen bites but Wyatt growls at her.
He advances on me once more, but this time I don’t stumble. I move forward an inch, meeting his gaze.
“It is you, Ivy, that needsme.Not the other way around. I do not need anyone. I am a prince. I am the sole heir to the Castorian throne, and I do notneeda cunt to ensure my reign.” His breath is warm on my skin, his lips barely inches from mine.
“Are you rejecting me?” I ask, my voice shaky. “Are you really going to stand here and condemn your mother and your kingdom because of yourpride, Wyatt?”
He grunts, his hand rushing out to grab my throat. But I do not relent, I can’t. For Wyatt Castor brings out something inside of me that I’ve never known existed.
A monster.
“Or is your cock just that inadequate that you’d rather fuck your fist for the rest of your life rather than a mate who can give you the heiryourkingdom needs to sustain itself?”
His grip tightens as he spits in my face.
“I don’t need your cunt, Ivy. I don’t need you, or anyone, to rule this kingdom.
I will do it myself.”
He presses tightly against my throat, and I struggle to breathe. My mind is a mess as I try to gasp for air, as my thighs become slick and my fangs ache to bite him.
“Wyatt, do not be stupid!” the queen bites. “You can not do this on your own, you can’t?—”
Wyatt throws me like I am nothing—like I am a sack of flour and not a person.
I fall to the ground, catching my breath, expecting my father to come to my aid, but he doesn’t. He remains ever still.
“I have had enough of your reign,” he sneers at his mother. “It ends here. Now.”
“Wyatt, you do not know what you are doing. Your rejection will condemn us.”
Wyatt steps toward me as I grasp my throat, coughing as I regain my senses. I look up at him with fury. How dare he treat me like this. How dare he rejectme.
I’ve heard plenty of tales of rejection in my life. Tales of fate shunned. In most cases, the rejected would find themselves incapacitated by grief and shame; the air of rejection a sting that cuts so deep into oneself, that coming back from said darkness is like scaling a mountain without equipment. Rejection can kill a vampire if it is deep enough of a cut.
But when I look at Wyatt Castor, standing above me with that wicked sneer on his face, as if he is above me in all aspects, as if I am truly nothing to him but a hole to fill and an object standing in his way. I do not feel sadness or even guilt at his rejection, though I am sure I will feel it later.
But right now, all I feel is anger and shame mixed with fury and anxiety.
Because I know without a doubt he is rejecting me. And though he hasn’t said the words yet, I know they are coming, and once they are uttered, there is no goingback. Our kingdoms will suffer all because of him. Because of his selfishness.
“If your child was truly my father’s, you would not need my bonding to keep you safe,” he says coldly. “And if this was truly about alliance, Ivy—” He looks down at me where I sit. “You’d be in tears right now, shaking from the idea that I don’t desire you because that is all you’re really offering me. You have nothing to offer me other than your bloody cunt. I am aprince.Not a fucking stud to breed.”
Wyatt looks at me with that unsettling, beautiful wickedness that makes my insides and my fangs ache.
“I reject you, Ivy Elara Reigh. I reject your cunt, your kingdom, and your alliance.”
Two
Ivy
The sharp pain in my chest damn near knocks me over. His words hurt more than I thought they would. Tears prick my eyes as I realize what’s truly happening.
