Alpha Jacob

Chapter 6

Jacob's POV

My gaze remained glued to Calista as she bolted down the corridor. The thin fabric of her dress swayed provocatively with every hurried step she took.

The lingering shock in her eyes when Caleb had called me brother was burned into my mind, she clearly hadn't expected me to have siblings, let alone one hidden from the history books.

Turning back to face Caleb, my eyes caught the fingers of my right hand—the same fingers I had used to unravel Calista just moments before. I could still hear her breathless moans echoing in my ears. Every time I ran my tongue over my lips, the sweet, intoxicating taste of her climax flooded my senses all over again.

“You’re f*****g her,” Caleb said, a playful, knowing smirk spreading across his face. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of absolute certainty.

“I didn’t summon you from Ravenhall to the Moonlight Throne to discuss my bedchambers, Caleb. I need your help.” My voice was laced with authority, leaving no room for argument.

Caleb’s smirk faltered slightly. He placed his left hand over his right chest then bowed deeply.

“For you, Your Grace. Whatever you require of me, consider it done.”

I nodded, tapping his shoulder in a silent gesture of gratitude.

“Two nights ago, there was an attack on the eastern border of the palace territory,” I explained, the gravity of the situation settling over us. “They captured no one, but they plundered our reserve meat, our gold, and our silver. If the culprits were simple rogues, thieves, or lone pirates from minor packs, I wouldn’t give it another thought. But my Kingsguard reported that the commander leading them bore a distinct sigil on his chest.”

The last traces of Caleb’s amusement vanished. His posture stiffened into an array of pure military wariness.

We were half-brothers, sharing a father but born of different mothers. The court vipers always whispered that I shouldn't trust him—that Caleb harbored a secret, burning jealousy toward me and my crown. But I had never doubted him. He possessed a good heart, and I held unwavering faith in our brotherhood.

“Who do you think is behind it?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

I shrugged, my gaze drifting over the ancient leather-bound books lining the library shelves. “I have no idea. They left no tracks. But based on the Kingsguard’s report, it's safe to assume the attack came from a powerful, organized pack. Stealing from the Crown is an open declaration of treason. And treason is punishable by death.” I slowly raised my eyes, locking them with Caleb’s.

“You want me to hunt down the culprit,” Caleb inferred.

I shook my head. “No. I am sailing to the Red Blood Throne tomorrow morning with a contingent of the throne’s finest warriors. I need you to temporarily rule the palace in my stead.”

Shock flooded Caleb’s features, and he immediately shook his head in refusal. “It is a profound honor, Your Grace, yes, but I am not fit to sit upon the Moonlight Throne. It is also a direct insult to your heir, Prince Alex, if you do that. You should pass this responsibility to him, instead, so he can learn the weight of the crown as early as nos. He is your blood—the next King of the Wilding Forest.”

“My son is not in the palace,” I countered quietly, allowing the words to settle between us. “I sent him south to fortify the alliances between our bloodline and the southern packs." I paused to breathe and gave him a knowing look. "You are the only one I trust to hold the throne for now, Caleb. We share the same blood, and I'm sure the werewolves under my command will answer to you as well."

Caleb swallowed hard, his hesitation palpable, but he finally gave a firm nod.

Hoping to ease his hesitation, I offered a calculated vice. “You may claim any w***e you desire in the palace to f**k. Consider it a reward.”

A small, familiar smirk crept back onto his lips. I knew exactly what drove Caleb, the fleeting thrill of the flesh.

His eyes drifted toward the heavy library doors, his smirk widening with sudden realization. “You said any woman I want... I want the one who just left—”

Before he could even finish the sentence, I lunged forward, slamming him against the stone wall. The impact cut his words short. Caleb didn't flinch, instead, he let out a low, amused chuckle.

“Not that one. She is mine,” I growled through gritted teeth, my hands curling into tight fists against his chest.

“Easy, brother. I was only testing my luck,” Caleb said smoothly, raising his hands in surrender. “As you said, she belongs to you.”

I forced myself to step back, turning away before his words could provoke my wolf any further.

“Just a friendly reminder, Your Grace,” Caleb’s voice dropped, losing its playful edge. “A w***e is a w***e. You use her body to ease your tension, and once you are finished, you walk away. You cannot afford to fall for her.”

I stopped, my hand resting on the heavy iron handle of the library door. I snapped my head back, throwing a cold glare over my shoulder. “I won't.”

Caleb merely shook his head, his smirk dripping with disbelief. “I saw the way you looked at her, Your Grace. You can try to hide it from the court, but your eyes betray you. You need to tear that feeling out of your heart before it takes root in your veins. It is against the law—and we both know it is punishable by death as well."

I slammed the library door shut behind me, the heavy oak echoing like a thunderclap through the hall. I marched down the corridor, teeth clenched, my mind a chaotic storm of Caleb's warnings.

He was wrong. There was nothing to worry about.

It wasn't the first time I had finger-f****d a w***e nor was it the first time I had licked a w***e's c*m. Calista was no different from the others. She was merely a virgin, elegant and untouched but she was the same as others.

Damn it.

I knew Caleb’s warning came from a place of genuine scars. He was still haunted by the ghost of the woman he had truly loved.

He had been married to a Highborn lady, but fell desperately in love with a w***e, bringing her into his sacred chambers and sealing their bonds as husband and wife.

It was against the law of the moon goddess. If a Highborn man falls in love with a w***e, the penalty is darker than death itself... the woman must be executed.

I was so deeply consumed by the brutal reality of that law that I failed to notice the figure rounding the corner. By the time I realized Calista was right in front of me, it was too late.

We collided.

A beautifully ornate box, sealed with the royal wax of the palace, slipped from her hands and clattered to the polished floor.

“Your Grace! I am so sorry, I d-didn't mean to block your path,” she stammered breathlessly, quickly dropping to her knees to retrieve the fallen box.

I stood firmly, my eyes locked onto her face. The sheer awkwardness on her face was different from the looks she served me when I f****d her with my tongue earlier.

“To whom is that box for?” I demanded, arching an eyebrow.

“To your brother’s chambers, Your Grace,” Calista replied, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she rose, offering a timid smile. “The box contains fine garments for his stay at the palace... I didn't you have a brother, your grace."

“He does not reside here. That is why you haven't seen him.”

She nodded softly, biting her lower lip as her gaze drifted to the floor. I could see her shifting slightly, her eyes darting toward the open hallway, looking for a polite way to escape my suffocating presence.

“I should tend to my duties, Your Grace. Your brother must be needing these clothes now.” She took a step forward, intending to bypass me, but my hand shot out, wrapping firmly around her forearm.

I pulled her just close enough to feel the heat radiating from her skin. My expression turned entirely solemn.

“He doesn’t need that. I have already arranged all his clothes in his chamber, there’s no need for you to bring that to him.” I said, not taking my hand off her arm. “Pack all your clothes tonight, we’ll ride ship tomorrow and sail to the Red Blood Throne.”

Calista’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace? You'll bring me with you?”

A sudden surge of possessiveness flared within my wolf. I tightened my grip on her arm, cursing inwardly at how painfully soft and smooth her skin felt beneath my calloused fingers.

“You heard me perfectly, Calista. Do not make me repeat my commands. Go.” I inclined my head sharply toward the servant's quarters.

She swallowed hard, nodding in submission, yet she remained anchored to the spot.

“Um... Your Grace... my arm,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to my hand.

Realization snapped me out of my trance. I released her arm immediately, pulling my hand back as if her touch had burned me.

“Be at the docks before sunrise,” I commanded coldly, walking away into the shadows of the palace before she could see the turmoil in my eyes.