CHAPTER NINETEEN
STERLING
King Valco had murdered Talia in front of everyone. It wasn’t at one of Winter’s games, not out of revenge, and not out of betrayal.
His sharp claws had so easily ripped through her throat, in the same way the wolves’ had effortlessly torn Sterling’s grandmother apart. She loathed Talia from the brief encounter she’d had with her, but Sterling had to admit that the wolf didn’t deserve to die in humiliation.
Valco finished licking Talia’s blood from his claws as he returned to his seat, his expression one of pleasure. He’d claimed that ripping her throat out had been a way to make amends with his son.
Sterling sat back on her knees beside Winter, and she peered up at him, his shoulders no longer rigid.
She hadn’t known that the king was the one who’d fucked Winter’s mate.
At first, she’d believed the prince had deceived Talia, then she’d discovered his mate was the one who’d betrayed him.
But never had she imagined that his father was the one who’d fucked his own son’s mate.
And on the night before their mating ceremony, no less.
As for Sterling’s father, he could be anyone, and she’d never cared enough to seek out a sorcerer or sorceress in another court who could locate him with a spell.
After watching what had just happened between Winter and his father, relief filled her that she’d never searched for hers or Cyan’s.
But her mother had once told Sterling that the type of men she’d bedded weren’t ones she would ever want introduced to her children.
A servant brought Winter a bowl of water and soap, and he washed Talia’s blood from his face with a rag. The guests resumed eating their meals as Talia’s body was carried out from the room and blood was scrubbed from the wooden planks.
Sterling remained quiet on the floor at Winter’s side.
He’d confused and angered her earlier for treating her as though he hadn’t licked her cunt on the balcony the night before.
He didn’t have to treat her like a princess, but previously he’d been much different, and now she knew why.
While the prince was part wicked, he was nothing like his father.
When Winter had passed her the fork and trailed his fingers across her cheek, it was a signal for her to trust him, that he’d been protecting her by being cruel.
“What a fine meal this is,” Valco cheered, and lifted his glass. “Winter, you’ve treated your future bride abysmally tonight, and I’ll have no more of that in my home.”
The prince shrugged and sipped his wine, his throat bobbing. The only tell-tale sign that anything bothered him at all. But she’d seen it. Just as she had his rigid shoulders before. If she noticed, then the king quite possibly could too.
“Rise, Sterling,” Valco demanded.
She blinked yet did as was asked and brushed her hands down the front of her dress, the dress the king had chosen for her to wear.
Valco’s gaze traveled her body, lingering on her breasts, before drifting up to the scar on her face.
Bile rose up her throat as it had when he’d patted his lap for her to take a seat on him.
“A beautiful face marred by such an ugly thing. However, your scar is the perfect symbol to show the court that a human can forgive a wolf for such heinous acts and unite us all.”
“I agree,” Sterling breathed. Except she didn’t believe him. What would the amends involve? Murdering her the way he had his own son’s mate? If she angered him, she knew he would eventually.
“Good. Now, let the mating ritual begin.” His gaze settled on an empty spot in the center of all the tables. “In this very room.”
Sterling froze. In the same room where the king had just slaughtered Talia? But she didn’t utter a word, only nodded. Once she was Winter’s wife, she would be closer to potentially freeing her brother.
“Why the rush?” Winter said, slowly setting his glass on the table.
“Do you not want to unite our court?” Valco fumed. “Do you enjoy being a pathetic son?”
Winter’s fingers dug into his thigh beneath the table where no one could see.
“I didn’t think so.” Valco motioned at two servants. “Bring in the royal bedding.”
Sterling’s heart pounded, though not nearly as hard as it would’ve if she didn’t already know they needed to have sex in front of an audience.
She would’ve much preferred the act to be in the forest behind the castle like the prior mating ceremony, out in the open where other sights and sounds could’ve served as a distraction.
The servants brought in lush chestnut-colored fur blankets that they sprawled out in the center of the room. Sterling took in the faces around her, some holding fear, others sympathy or frowns. No one would stand up to the king though—they would end up just like Talia.
Valco smirked as his gaze trained on his son. “Now, fuck her for us.”
For us. As though the prince were the court’s personal entertainment.
“My pleasure, Your Majesty.” Winter pushed up from his seat and sauntered to one side of the bedding. Valco shooed Sterling with a wave of his hand to follow his son.
As she stood opposite Winter, she ignored all the eyes upon them and pretended as if they didn’t exist. But that proved difficult when no music filtered through the room, only the breaths of the king and his guests.
Winter remained rooted in place, and she wasn’t certain if she was supposed to step forward first.
“What’s the matter, son?” the king barked. “Haven’t you fucked enough harlots to know where to stick your cock?”
Winter angled his head to the side, watching Sterling silently.
Then he removed his shirt and unfastened his trousers until he was bare before her.
She stepped toward the prince and his fingers brushed the hem of her dress, making gooseflesh rise on her skin.
He lifted the fabric over her head, and she wondered if the guests were studying each of her scars and flaws.
But when Winter tangled his fingers into her hair and brought his lips to hers in a fierce kiss, the audience slowly faded away, and she thought about no one in the room but him.
He stroked her tongue with his, then dipped his head to her ear and whispered, “Ride my cock. I can’t look like a fool in front of him. I’ve never...”
Sterling’s eyes widened. Never what? Never fucked before?
That couldn’t be what he’d meant? The prince frequented brothels every chance he could get…
He’d even gone to one when she’d been alone in the cage at his manor.
Or had he? How could he have not fucked anyone?
He was deft in all his movements the night before, but he hadn’t wanted to bury his cock in her just yet…
She’d thought it had been because he’d wanted to wait for the ceremony.
Winter’s canines glided down her neck to her bare shoulder, and she gasped when he sank them into her flesh, giving her the mark of a mate.
Was that meant to feel erotic? She wanted to slap him as her shoulder throbbed, but when his tongue licked over the wound, her eyelids fluttered from the seductive movement.
Sterling grasped his hair and yanked his head to the side, then bit into his shoulder as hard as she could to draw blood. He must’ve not felt the same pain she had because his cock hardened against her, and she mirrored his motions by licking his salty blood from the wound.
Winter tugged her against him and brought her into his lap on the furred bedding. For the briefest of moments, his mask lifted and a hint of nervousness stared back at her. With her eyes, she told him not to worry and that she would handle this.
Sterling captured his lips with hers so no one would see before he lowered to his back. She glided up and down his length to start somewhere familiar, the place where they’d left off the prior night. It didn’t take long before her body reacted and a low groan rose from Winter’s throat.
Once her core ached, needing more, she reached between them and positioned his cock at her entrance.
She sank down on him fully, and he growled in pleasure, his canines slipping out once more.
Her breath hitched at how good he felt inside her depths, and his hands clamped down on her buttocks as she rode him.
Sterling pressed her hands into his shoulders while she ground harder against him.
For a bit more friction, she arched back and rolled her hips.
One of Winter’s hands cupped her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple.
She peered down at him, and by the way his canines dug into his lower lip, he was holding back his own release for her.
The euphoria built, and her pace became faster, low moans escaping her until rapture quaked through her.
Winter groaned, his body shuddering, his fingers digging into her flesh.
The prince’s hooded eyes remained fixed on hers as his chest heaved.
She’d needed this, needed to ride someone’s cock for weeks—she just hadn’t known it would be the prince’s to satisfy her.
A virgin prince who’d pretended to have fucked more harlots than she could’ve imagined.
A few whistles and cheers erupted from the audience, reminding Sterling she’d just fucked the prince in front of a crowd.
They needed to finish the ceremony, so Sterling peeled herself from Winter, and they both stood, flushed and sweaty, as Valco approached them, a strange grin spread across his face.
The king’s gaze remained on her breasts before veering to his son.
“That was rather surprising. Are you certain you loathe her?” He dipped his thumb into a goblet of blood and pressed crimson to their foreheads.
“Now, the royal court will celebrate.” Valco smirked. “Go wherever you wish.”
“I’ll take my bride to my room so she can clean my cock with her mouth,” Winter snapped, grasping Sterling’s arm, then tugging her out into the hallway. He released her and walked away from her at a brisk pace.
Sterling didn’t even care that she was bare after being in a room full of guests. She wouldn’t ever want to put the king’s dress back on either.
“Winter!” Sterling shouted and hurried after the prince, but he ignored her. She continued following him up the stairs, down the hall, and into his room. “Winter, we need to talk.”
He whirled around to face her. “About what? To boast how fucking pathetic I am?”
“You’re not pathetic,” she said gently. “Why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve told me last night.”
His jaw clenched. “It wasn’t important.”
“Not important?” Sterling hissed. “But you visit brothels! Were you only seeking out the harlots for oral pleasure, then?”
“No. Nothing.” He heaved a sigh. “It’s all for show, Sterling. Don’t you understand?”
Nothing? “No, I don’t! That’s why I’m asking you!”
“You were the first girl I was ever fascinated by,” Winter started.
“A human. Even after I discovered you shared blood with that bitch of a huntress, I still couldn’t get you out of my head for years.
Then I found my mate and was content that destiny had finally done something right.
I fell in love with Talia. Of course, we touched each other a few times, but I wanted to wait to fuck her.
I’d heard how special a mating ritual could be if a husband gave himself to his bride for the first time during the ceremony, and I wanted that.
But the night before ours, my father manipulated Talia into fucking him.
It’s never mattered why she betrayed me.
” He held up a hand before Sterling could speak.
“I’d resigned myself to a life of solitude until I saw you again at the hanging.
There you were, and all the memories of you resurfaced.
I wanted to find you, speak to you, reprimand you, fuck you, but I didn’t expect you to be Red Riding Hood.
The woman I’d despised for my entire adult life was the same woman I’d wanted even longer than that. It changed everything. And nothing.”
Sterling’s lips parted, taken aback by what he’d just professed.
He’d not only loathed her but liked her.
For years? The prince had murdered her grandmother, stolen her brother, forced her to play in his games, held her in a cage, made her yearn for his touches, and now he was telling her all these things? “Fuck you,” she murmured.
“No, fuck you,” Winter said, caging her against the wall, his lithe body pressed to hers. “Fuck you for making me give a damn.” His hand trailed down her scar. “And fuck you for making me want you again already.”
Sterling’s lips crashed into his, and he lifted her into his arms, then brought her to his bed. His body was flush atop hers as he kissed her, nipping at her lip, her jawline, her neck.
With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside her and she gasped in pleasure. She didn’t even need to show him what she liked—he somehow knew. He may not have pleasured in a brothel, but she was certain he’d seen enough there to learn precisely what a woman wanted.
Winter brought her leg around his waist and ground himself against her as he moved inside her.
His fingers circled her clit, and she cried out when her second orgasm of the night hit.
She grasped Winter’s buttocks when his pace picked up, the bed shaking beneath her, followed by a guttural groan escaping him.
His eyes held hers as he pulled out of her and rolled to his back.
He remained beside her, peering up at the ceiling, but she didn’t rest her head against his chest. Should she?
This was different than when she’d been with Nareth.
It was always friendship between them—nothing more.
Yet this … she wasn’t sure what this was at all.
They weren’t friends. Yet she no longer hated him.
“Should I leave?” she asked.
His hand grasped hers. “Stay.”