CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WINTER
Sterling’s words about Winter picked away at his thoughts ever since she’d said them. Yes, he was half his mother, but he was entirely wicked. Wasn’t he? He didn’t want to face her while he still felt so thrown off. Still, things were happening that required him to do it anyway.
The prince paused in front of Sterling’s bedroom door, took a deep breath, and pushed inside without knocking. She yelped at the sudden intrusion, then exhaled where she stood beside her bed.
“Put this on,” Winter said, tossing a dress at her before she could speak.
Sterling caught the fabric and frowned. “This doesn’t look like the garment the female wore at the last mating ceremony.” It was made of thick emerald lace between thin strips of brown leather which would hug each of her curves, leaving little to the imagination.
He smirked. “My father put together a dinner before the ceremony is to begin.”
“Ah, will we be eating humans again?” The corners of her mouth twitched as she fought a smile.
“I could let the cook know if that’s what you want,” Winter drawled.
Sterling rolled her eyes and held up the dress to survey it. “How do I even put this on?”
A gap over her shoulder separated the sleeve and the strap, and his eyes grew hooded, his wolf begging to unleash, to sink his canines into her soft flesh, the night between them coming to him once more.
He stepped closer and ran his finger under the collar of her tunic. “Do you want me to help you put it on?”
Sterling’s gaze met his, her expression unreadable. “Is that something you say to your harlots?”
He chuckled. “They can’t afford quality like this. And besides, harlots aren’t paid to put their clothing on, are they?”
She scowled. “I’m sure they can afford a nice dress when they’re receiving coin from a prince on a regular basis. Are you going to continue visiting them once we mate?”
He lifted her chin with a forefinger. “Envious?”
“If you continue, you won’t be the only one doing whatever you like. I may frequent the male brothel in town since I’ll be a royal with royal coin in my purse.” She smiled.
Winter narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t allow another man to touch her, taste her. “Get dressed.”
As much as Winter didn’t want to attend the celebration dinner, he wanted to bring Sterling in the dress his father had chosen even less.
He loathed the idea of anyone seeing her in this.
She was for his eyes only. His future mate, whatever that would mean in regards to their relationship.
But he couldn’t let a single wolf know it rattled him—especially his bastard father.
He went out into the hallway and waited for her to dress.
A few moments later, Sterling opened the door, and his blood ran hot at the way the fabric hugged her breasts, the soft swells peeking out of the sides.
“You have terrible taste in clothing,” she said with a frown.
“You have my father to thank for your outfit, not me.” Winter leaned in close so the eavesdropping guards wouldn’t hear him.
“Do what I say tonight and don’t defy anything.
” His tone came out as a warning, and Sterling seemed to understand since she didn’t fight him when he grasped her upper arm to lead her down the hallway.
His grip was too firm, but it was the only way to keep her behavior under control, to keep her alive and at his side instead of under his father. If the king would fuck his fated mate, he wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to his chosen one.
Fucking bastard.
The prince walked at a brisk pace, desperate to get the dinner over and done with—he knew his father had something planned. But what?
“You could slow down a bit,” she said. The prince didn’t pay her any attention as they reached the banquet hall doors.
Two guards flung them open so Winter could pass inside without pausing.
Each table was filled, some of the females perched on the laps of males.
Pinecone garlands hung from chandeliers made of deer antlers dipped in gold, and the air was hot and thick.
A hush fell over the room. Normally, no one stopped mid-sentence when the prince arrived, and even now their silence wasn’t about him. It was Sterling that drew their attention.
This was the first time Red Riding Hood was making an appearance as their future princess and not the pack’s most wanted criminal.
Time and energy were necessary for Winter to keep her alive with the assassination attempts that would surely follow their mating.
It would be even harder if the pack thought their prince was treating her too well before they came to accept her.
“Father,” Winter greeted as he made his way to the royal table at the front of the room that rested on a raised platform. He pulled out his chair and lowered himself into it without releasing Sterling’s arm.
“Winter,” the king replied, his gaze trained on Sterling’s chest. “Aren’t you going to hold a chair out for your bride-to-be?”
“And why would I ever do that?” Winter pulled down on her arm so that she knelt at his feet. “Pets don’t sit at the table like civilized beings.”
“Pet?” she hissed.
Winter relaxed into his seat, released his grip on her, and draped his arm over the back of it to stare down at her, reminding her not to defy him. Sterling would sit with them, as a royal, after the mating ceremony, but until then, she would continue to sit at his feet.
“You.” He motioned to one of the wolves pouring wine into glasses at the table where General Rawling, Caston, and four other pack members sat. “Give her the bottle.”
The servant approached them and held out the bottle of wine to Sterling.
Winter glared down at Sterling as though she were nothing but spoiled food. “You will pour every pack member’s drink before the main course is served.”
Sterling narrowed her eyes at Winter, then clasped the bottle from the man. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table, right in Sterling’s place setting. The plate clinked against the silverware and spilled her glass of water.
Sterling climbed to her feet with slow, deliberate movements. “My Prince,” she said with false sweetness. “Would you like me to fill your glass?”
Winter dangled the glass between his fingers and held it out to her while turning toward his father while she poured. He ignored the faces of everyone to feign ignorance of their hostility. “It looks as if the entire pack is here,” he mused.
The king surveyed the room, taking in the dozens of tables filled with wolves around them. “They’re curious,” he said with a chuckle. “And who wouldn’t be?”
Valco lifted his cup and cast his gaze to Sterling as she hovered over him. Her breasts brushed his shoulder, though Winter couldn’t tell if his father orchestrated that.
As Sterling edged away from him, Winter forced himself not to watch as his father leered at her body and instead observed the servants carrying in massive trays of meat and vegetables. Steaming bowls of gravy followed along with piles of buttered rolls.
“What are you waiting for?” Winter snapped at Sterling when she remained beside his father. “I told you to serve everyone.”
Her nostrils flared, her eyes boring into his before she moved away from their table. She made her way around the room, pouring quickly, giving half glasses, and trading in the empty carafes for full ones until everyone was served.
When she returned, she set the half-full carafe down at the end of the table and reached for her chair. Winter grasped the leg with his boot and drew it away from her.
A line formed between her brows. “You said I could get off the floor if—”
“If you served everyone before the main course. You were still pouring when they brought out the food and…” He smirked at her. “You were off the floor. Now, sit back down at my feet like a good little human.”
Sterling balled her hands into fists as she stared at him, when the king purred, “Come now, son. She’ll be your mate soon.”
“Soon. But not at the moment. And I’ll decide how she’s treated.”
His father leaned back in his chair and patted his lap. “Come, darling. If he won’t give you a seat, I will.”
Winter clenched and unclenched his jaw. “She deserves no such honor.” The fucker was trying to get a rise out of him, and damn the king—it was working. He grabbed her by the arm and forced her back to her knees. “Get comfortable,” he said without looking at her.
A moment passed before everyone returned to their food and ignored the human’s presence. Or at least pretended to. Winter didn’t miss the occasional glances that came their way or how his father leaned over his plate with each bite of food so he could peer around Winter to where Sterling sat.
Sterling speared her food as if she were stabbing Winter instead. She chewed slowly, anger rolling off her in waves, and watched the crowd right back. Her view was limited by the table, of course, but sitting on her heels like she was, she could still take in parts of the crowd.
“Are you looking forward to your ceremony?” the king asked.
Winter pierced a piece of venison with his fork and slowly dragged it through the juices. “Why would I look forward to spending the rest of my life chained to Red Riding Hood?”
His father laughed, low and unamused. “Use her as a toy and get a mistress if you want a wolf. The rest of the court doesn’t need to know the truth of the marriage behind closed doors.”
“Why not just keep her as a toy, then?” he drawled.
“I told you—to bridge a gap between humans and wolves.” The king scoffed. “You’ve fucked enough human whores at the brothel, so I was under the impression you preferred them.”
Winter cast an amused glance down at Sterling, who peeked up at him with a hard, judgmental look.
“Supply and demand,” he drawled. Wolves didn’t sell their bodies for money—they fucked each other for entertainment or not at all.
“I like knowing I’ll get off without pretending to be interested in someone. ”
Sterling dropped her fork. It bounced off the plate onto the floor beside his boot.
She released a defeated sigh, and his chest tightened.
Was she thinking about the night before when they’d brought one another to orgasm?
How she’d glided up and down his cock until she came, and then he’d ended it before he found his own second release.
His jaw clenched, hoping that was where her mind was and that she wasn’t focused on all the harlots he’d visited.
Winter shifted in his seat and ate the meat off his fork.
He positioned himself so he could pass the utensil to Sterling without his father seeing.
When she took it, he grazed the back of his fingers across her cheek before resting his elbows on the table.
It was the only small kindness he could offer, a way to let her know that none of this was real.
“You’re saddling me with a human who killed my closest packmates.
She doesn’t even know how to properly suck a cock. ”
“You’ll just have to teach her, won’t you? Now,” the king continued. “Tonight isn’t just about your mating. I’ve got a present for you that I hope will start to mend the rift between us.”
Winter tensed. There was no mending anything between them. His father had made it clear how little he respected the prince and he’d never shown him an ounce of affection through the years. What was the point of fixing things between them when Winter was simply waiting for the bastard to die?
“I don’t need a gift,” Winter told him.
“Nonsense.” The king signaled to someone near the door.
Winter pushed his plate away and placed his elbows on the table, ready for the worst to occur. He didn’t dare look at Sterling. She would either be horrified or intrigued, maybe both. But whatever this … surprise was, it was bound to be a tragedy.
Talia strode into the room wearing a tight black dress with golden studs running down the fabric of her arms. She was all smiles and confidence despite his previous rejection of their mating, but Winter still caught a glimpse of true emotions dancing in her gaze.
Confusion. Hope. He wasn’t sure what the king had told Talia when he’d invited her to this dinner, but he sensed it was bitter lies.
“Your Majesty,” she greeted, curtsying. “Prince Winter.” Her eyes flickered to Sterling where her head lifted slightly higher than a moment ago, but she said nothing to acknowledge the human.
“Talia,” the king said, his voice loud and commanding. “A pleasure you joined us.”
“Of course. I would never decline an invitation from you.” She beamed.
What had she been promised? Another chance at Winter? His father wouldn’t possibly marry her himself and invite that kind of scandal.
“No request too high?” the king prodded.
Her lips parted on a breath, but she hesitated before answering, “No.”
He stood, gave Winter’s shoulder a squeeze, and rounded the table with sure steps. When he reached Talia’s side, he brushed her hair over her shoulders to hang down her back, then caressed her collarbone. “Wish your former mate good luck on his mating ceremony.”
Talia winced before peering at Winter and making a subtle shift so the king was no longer touching her. “I wish you all the best in your future.”
Winter simply flicked his hand in her direction as if her words meant nothing. They did mean nothing. Rejected mates usually did their best to avoid each other, so why was his father—
Blood sprayed across Winter’s face before he had a chance to register what had happened. A few screams rang through the room, one of them from right beside him, but Winter’s mind went numb as the hot liquid trailed down his cheeks.
His father yanked his claws from Talia’s torn throat.
Her body collapsed at the king’s feet, her lifeless eyes staring at the wall, blood seeping around her.
Winter’s chest ached, dull and faint, at the loss of a fated mate, even one he’d loathed, would never have forgiven.
She still hadn’t deserved death at his father’s hand when the king had been the one to lure her in first.
The cruel, yet proud, smile on his father’s face was what held the prince in place. Winter’s pulse sped as he scrambled to mask his emotions in the way he’d taught himself as a child. It wasn’t until Sterling’s soft touch grazed his knee that he was able to move again.
“That was dramatic,” Winter said in a bored voice. He wiped the blood gliding down the bridge of his nose and flicked it away. “You could’ve killed her without the mess. Now we’ll have to wait until someone cleans this up before I can fuck my mate.”
The king licked the blood from his claws and held Winter’s stare. “This allows us to move on. Talia was nothing but a forgotten fuck, someone who momentarily sated my appetite.”
Winter avoided tightening his jaw and instead arched a brow. “On the night before our mating ceremony.”
He leered at Sterling. “And now I’ve given you a new mate.”