“I didn’t mean to ogle your royal abs. It just happened,” Izabel announces.
I smack a hand over my face. “Goddess, Iz.”
She grins and marches across the room, offering her hand. “Nice to meet you finally. Well, we’ve met. Sort of. I see you places. Up on your pedestals. I’m Izabel.”
I’m briefly concerned Killian might be upset. After all, Izabel did just barge in while we were in the middle of something, and now she’s blowing through possible boundaries and assuming he wants to chat with a half-hard cock.
But he removes a hand from his pockets and accepts hers. “Nice to meet you, too. I know you and Meryn are close.”
“I’d hold her hair while she barfed,” Izabel says like it’s a brag. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I really don’t want my betrothed thinking about me vomiting. “Wow, you’re better-looking up close. I always thought you looked a bit… statuesque? But something about catching you with your pants down makes you more approachable.”
“They weren’tdown,” I scold.
“Practically at my ankles,” Killian says with an easy smile. I relax slightly. He’s clearly managing this better than I am. Of course he is.
I take a deep breath to steady myself. “To answer your question, I think Venna is hooking up with someone. He had dark hair and bushy eyebrows. Might be best to give her somespace,” I tell Izabel. It’s the description of the man she was cozied up to earlier, so hopefully it’ll lend credit to my lie.
Izabel frowns. “Makes sense.” But apparently, she’s completely oblivious to my subtlegive me some spacerequest because she turns to Killian and grins.
“Prince Killian, have you ever played Ten Wolves?”
“Huh? No, never heard of it,” he replies.
“It’s a Bonded drinking game, and they have a good round of it going in the common lounge right now. You should come join us!”
It’s then that I realize she’s a bit toasted. She’s always been good at hiding it—never slurs or starts to tilt over—but she’s definitely been partaking tonight.
Killian raises a brow and glances at me. It’s a very clear,is this okay?
I look at Izabel, a giant ball of sunshiny hope, and just shrug. It’s a little weird. Killian in the common lounge, and with everyone drinking…
But then, if he’s going to be my husband, the other Bonded will need to get comfortable with him, anyway.
Izabel makes an alarmingly high-pitched sound of joy—the squeals are the real indication of her drunkenness—and drags us both back to the party. Her attention is mostly focused on Killian, though. I’m starting to suspect that she’s very intentionally pulling him into the fold, giving my future husband a place alongside the pack.
It makes me love her a little more, despite how badly I currently wish I were alone with him.
There are some whistles and hollers as Killian steps up to the table. The Rawbonds are excited to see their prince. I pause to watch them as Izabel settles him at the table. He sends a playful “help me” look back my way, and I just grin back at him, certain he’s going to immediately charm everyone.
Before I can join them, a familiar looming presence prickles up my spine. I tense as his glare sizzles over my skin; I don’t have to see it to know it’s happening.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I tell Stark without even turning.
“When’s the wedding happening, then? You know you ship out to the front right after the graduation ceremony,” he says.
I cross my arms and scratch at my elbow. It helps me focus on something other than how his energy is taking up the whole room and swallowing up the air. Then I force myself to turn and look at him because I don’t want him to think I’m a coward.
Alphas face their problems head-on.
“We haven’t started planning it yet, and it’s actually none of your business.”
He’s wearing his typical glower. His tattoos look darker in the dim light. So does his hair. “Actually, the crown is very much my business, since my family are their sworn protectors,” he tells me.
Fuck. That’s a bleak realization. He’s probably going to become Sovereign Alpha during Killian’s reign. He’s basically destined for the role.
Which means I’m going to have to deal with himconstantly.
I’m never going to live a life without mean stares and dramatic looming.
