Chapter 9: In My Mind
(LOCKE)
My wolf is unhappy with . I can feel it vibrating with tension inside .
Normally, it’s easy for
to control it, but lately it’s been getting harder.
My parents were fated mates, as were Derrick’s. However, my father had been betrothed to another before he t my mother, who coincidentally happened to be his fiancée’s closest friend.
Whenever he and my mother recounted the tale of their eting, they always disregarded the fate of the woman who had been engaged to my father since childhood. Her family, a noble one, was disgraced as a result of my father rejecting her.
And his betrothed? She killed herself in sha.
As much as I loved my parents, their callous disregard for the woman my mother had considered her best friend and my father had known his whole life infuriated . Their excuse was always that the Goddess had chosen them for each other.
The Goddess. She was their most convenient excuse, as if their ability to make decisions had been stripped from them. I refused to believe it then, and I refuse to believe it now.
The idea of having a fated mate almost beca repulsive to . I understand my wolf’s desire to be with her, but I refuse to give in. It’s probably getting anxious because the night of the full moon is drawing closer.
On this side of the Veil, the full moon only occurs every three months, and it is the one night when wolf shifters can conceive. In another two weeks, I will make sure that my mate is carrying my child.
It’s after a particularly long and tiring day that I find myself making my way to my bedchamber.
I co to a stop outside my door, and my eyes flick toward the one that leads into Corrine’s room.
Corrine. I find the na suits her better than Ravenna. I like how it rolls around in my mouth. It is simple and elegant.
It has been two weeks now, and I have made sure that our paths don’t cross.
That doesn’t an I’m not watching her, though. I have to keep an eye on her since she is not trustworthy.
So far, all I have seen her do is visit the villages nearby and et with the farrs and the local artisans. She likes going on walks by herself in the palace gardens. I’ve had all the benches repaired, and I’ve seen her use them. She’s not doing anything to rouse my suspicions, but I know if I turn my head, she’ll probably take advantage of that.
My mother used to maintain the greenhouse within the gardens, but it has fallen into disrepair.
I have a feeling that my mate would not mind reviving it. She does seem to like spending all of her free ti outdoors. Wolf shifters are not immune to mild illnesses; if she is so determined to sit outside in the cold, she may as well fix up the greenhouse and sit there instead.
Ever since Rothan took over Bella’s position, he’s been reporting to
regularly.
Despite her quiet and reserved personality, Corrine has been working hard. He did tell
that the plants she was interested in are not available in either the East or the North and that she had been disappointed.
Bella had been thrilled. My childhood friend is vindictive to say the least.
I look at the small parcel in my hand. I was planning to hand it to Rothan, but perhaps I can simply...
My hand clenches the parcel as I walk over to Corrine’s door. I don’t bother knocking because it’s not so late that she should be asleep. I open the door and enter her bedchamber.
The flas from the fireplace are casting shadows along the wall.
I look around. It is my first ti in this room since the day of our mating ceremony. She has not sought
out even once. In fact, from what Sigrid tells , she goes out of her way to avoid , going so far as learning my daily routine and avoiding areas where I would normally be.
It makes sense that I want nothing to do with her, but why isn’t she trying to change my mind? Female wolf shifters crave affection, especially from their mates.
I was harsh with her after the mating ceremony, just to make sure she understood her status in my eyes. I thought she’d co crawling to , trying to seduce , and this lack of effort makes
uneasy. Shouldn’t she be even slightly bothered?
Corrine is not here, so I take the opportunity to look around.
Why is this room so bare? Even my bedchamber has more character.
Two weeks and she has not bothered to decorate at all. It is my understanding that females like to put their personal touches on their rooms. There’s not even a potted plant in here.
Rothan told
she likes to read, but there are no books to be found.
I make my way to the wardrobe and open it. I heard that the designer Sigrid hired sent so dresses today. But inside the wardrobe are simple frocks, not ones a queen or even a noble would wear.
I rember how my mother used to dress, the things the won who flocked around her wore. My mate has ordered dresses that look cheap! Anger flits through . The queen of the Northern Kingdom is dressing like a commoner. Is this a tactic to embarrass ?!
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I glimpse sothing at the back of the wardrobe. Pushing the plain clothes aside, I see three fancy dresses. Elegant designs. They’re not very colorful, but somber and powerful.
Confusion fills . What was this woman thinking when she ordered them?
Just then, I hear a noise from the attached bathroom. I turn around and see the door swing open.
My mate walks out of the bathroom, in the process of wrapping a towel around herself, her long hair dripping.
She hasn’t sensed my presence yet and pushes one of the wet strands of hair behind her ear. Her head is bent slightly forward, and I see the water droplets clinging to her thick eyelashes.
The towel she’s wrapping around herself is tiny, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her skin is damp, looking soft and supple. She is too thin, but the curve of her breasts and the way her hips jut out have
feeling a flare of attraction.
I was never attracted to Princess Ravenna. Visually, she was an appealing woman, but I found those coy looks she shared with n and her flirty gestures off-putting.
But this woman...She looks like Ravenna, but she is so different from her. Right now, in this unguarded mont, she looks delicate and charming.
My wolf rumbles, wanting to take a bite out of that moist, flushed skin.
For all my talk of not wanting anything to do with her, I’m overwheld by the desire to rip off that towel and throw her down on the bed. I want to see what her skin tastes like.
The night she spent in my bed, I didn’t lay a finger on her, but she kept gravitating toward , seeking out my body. At one point, I gave up trying to push her away. She fit in my arms perfectly, as if made for . Her face burrowed into my chest, and our legs beca entangled in our sleep.
I’ve never taken a lover to my bed. Never held a woman within the privacy of my chambers. But that night, I was too tired to think much about it. And right now, I’m tempted to do more than just hold her.
As if sensing my thoughts, her head jerks up.
Those gentle brown eyes grow terrified, and she clutches the towel to herself, squeaking, "Your Majesty!"
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