The Rejected Wolf Princess

Spoiled Rotten

Ty’s POV

Well, of course she’s my true mate. How the entire kingdom hasn’t figured that out yet is beyond me.

It’s a blessing, I suppose, that I became her protector when I did. I vowed to devote my life to her before my wolf awakened, so speculations about my reasons for that are really only hearsay.

Not that there was ever a time that I didn’t love Evie. But loving her and wanting her are two entirely different things.

I want to be clear about something here: she’s a complete and utter pain in my ass. Spoiled, selfish, sheltered, and frustrating. If it was up to me, I would have chosen literally any other wolf in the world to fall for. Unfortunately, it isn’t up to me. It’s up to that damned wolf of mine, and he’s utterly taken with her.

It has felt different lately, I have to admit. She was only twelve when he awoke—far too young for me to lust over or desire—and even as she entered her teen years, I had a hard time finding her anything but an annoyance. One to protect, to be sure, but not one to yearn for. Back then, even my wolf was more focused on protecting her than actually wanting her.

The past few weeks, though—watching her start to experience this s****l awakening—things have started to shift. Seeing Tristan kiss her that night in the gardens was nothing short of torture, and the thought of doing so myself was enough to keep me up the entire night, lusting after her. And then, that day at the stables…

I saw the look on her face when she was watching Brooks take Marisa from behind. She was shocked, certainly, but she was enraptured, too. She wanted to experience it.

What I wouldn’t give to be the one to show her how it’s done…

Doesn’t matter. It’s my job to protect her, and accepting her as my true mate would do the exact opposite. I am literally the worst possible match for her. The traitor can’t be with the princess. End of story. Period.

Only it’s not the end of the story, because it’s even worse than just traitor and princess. It’s traitor and princess whose parents owe the Gibbouses more money than seems to exist in the world. It’s traitor and princess who would literally cost her parents their entire empire if she chose him.

I don’t think she buys it—that rejecting Tristan would bring ruin to her family. Kind of circles back to what I said about her being an immature, spoiled, sheltered child, but I also don’t blame her entirely. I buy it, but that’s because of my mind link with the Red Wolves—a mind link that, as far as everyone around here knows, was severed by faerie magic when I was a toddler. The Red Wolf Pack is still alive and well, in case you were wondering—biding their time on the far east side of the world, past Vila, Kingdom of Faeries. They want me to retake the throne, but I’ve consistently refused. I have a life’s purpose, and it’s Evie, not the throne.

It does help, though, that they keep me in the know about things happening in the kingdom. It helps me provide better protection for Evie. Their secret allies in the Eclipse Moon Pack, for example, have been bringing them word of King Abbott’s financial struggles for years. Apparently it cost quite a pretty penny to overthrow my grandfather and mysteriously end the war with the vampires of Archon. Imagine that.

Enough about all that, though. The point is, Evie is my true mate, I unfortunately appear to be her true mate, and it can never happen. I’m just going to have to convince her to reject me. Probably shouldn’t have danced with her like that tonight, but I couldn’t help it. The way she looked in that dress…

Fuck. An instant hard-on forms the second I picture it. Damn you, wolf.

A quiet knock sounds at my door, shaking me from my reverie. I know that knock; it’s Evie’s. I safely delivered her to her room nearly an hour ago, after the obnoxious festivities dwindled down; what’s she doing up at this hour?

Now’s as good a time as any to convince her to reject me, I suppose. I rise from my bed, tucking a certain part of me away to disguise the situation that recently developed, and open the door.

“Come on, then,” I grumble, gesturing for her to step inside. I know there aren’t any guards posted in the hall; they share the shift rotations with me, and the nearest ones at this hour are at the base of the stairs.

“Aren’t you going to put a shirt on?” she asks me cheerfully as she steps inside and closes the door behind her.

I raise an eyebrow. “Would you like me to?”

She taps a finger against her lip, which my wolf finds quite irresistible. I, on the other hand, find it irritating. “Only if you’ve switched back into that mood where you try to convince me to reject you.”

I really should have been more careful at the ball. I shouldn’t have teased ideas into her head. I just can't help myself with her sometimes.

“Then I guess I’m putting a shirt on,” I grumble as I head for my wardrobe.

“That’s fine,” she says, shrugging off her robe. “I’ll compensate.”

She’s wearing the corset again—and no shift this time.

She’s wearing just the corset. And a tiny little underskirt.

I didn't even know they made them that small.

The erection that was just starting to fade surges back to attention as my wolf does about a million backflips of excitement somewhere in my head.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Evie,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re a princess. You need to start acting like one.”

She doesn’t look remotely discouraged. Have I mentioned how annoyingly stubborn she is? She steps toward me, and as she does, my wolf somehow manages to find control of my eyes, and they rake up and down the length of her, drinking in the impossible sensuality of her tiny, tight, tantalizing body.

This is bad. I really have to get a hold of myself.

“I don’t want you, Evie,” I say, tearing my eyes away from her. “I will never want you. Not when being with you means ruining your life.”

For the first time since she entered my room, my words actually seem to register with her. I hurt her—again.

I really don’t like hurting her. It goes against my entire life's purpose and hurts me tenfold in the process.

“So you do want me,” she says. Her tone isn’t stubborn and persistent now, though; it’s sad. It makes my heart ache. “You’re just trying to protect me by rejecting me. You think you’re doing what’s best for me.”

“I’m trying to protect you by telling you to reject me!” I protest. My voice is louder than it should be. If the king ever planted spies around his daughter, now would be the time.

“I will never reject you, Ty!” she shouts back just as fiercely. “We’ll find a way to be together. I don’t know how, but we will.”

Her words echo in my head, over and over again. I will never reject you.

They sound like different words to me. I will lose everything for you.

I will watch my world burn for you.

I will die for you.

I can’t do it. I can’t allow her to ruin her life—maybe even sacrifice her life—for the sake of a doomed love.

Don’t you dare, my wolf warns me. I will never forgive you for this. She will never forgive you for this.

Good, I tell him. She shouldn’t.

“I, Tyler Alexander Red, Alpha-in-Waiting of the Red Moon Pack, reject you, Everleigh Serena Crescent, Princess of Meridian, as my mate.”

Pain. Searing pain. Screaming. Reverberating. Devastating.

It’ll stop, I tell my wolf as he howls and cries in my head. As soon as she accepts it, it’ll stop, and we’ll move on, and—

“I, Everleigh Serena Crescent, Princess of Meridian, refuse to accept your rejection.”

I stare at her in shock. The pain is still there. The bond has been severed, but not cut.

She can’t be serious, can she? We can’t live like this. We can’t endure this much pain for an extended period of time. She has to accept it.

She holds her chin high. Those piercing, green eyes of hers burn like emeralds.

“I don’t want anyone else,” she tells me. “I want you, Ty. And I’m going to get what I want.”

Like I said—spoiled rotten.