Lycan Prince's Fated Mate

19

Moments like these made me feel guilty. Guilty because in those moments I forgot about Miranda. Forgot about how I had come to be mated to Ivie. Forgot the fact that she was an omega and that there had ever been a time I was arranged to be with anyone who wasn't her.

Ivie leaned back, her hips starting to rock against my fingers. And she stared at me through it all, those green eyes sparkling in the dim lighting as though she could feel my resolve to keep her from my heart slowly unraveling.

I pushed two fingers inside her and Ivie's head fell back, her pants intensifying.

“Please… Dante, please.” She moaned. Pleaded.

Hearing my name on her lips like that shouldn't have felt as good as it did. Feeling the pressure building inside her, her walls pulsing around my fingers and her body tensing on top of me should have felt repulsive, but it didn't.

I wanted her on her knees. Wanted to f**k those beautiful lips and watch her gag on me even though I knew it was far from a viable method for conception.

Fuck.

Ivie was messing with my head.

Pushing her off myself, I let Ivie fall onto the bed, then I took her from behind.

Ivie squirmed as I eased into her, barely suppressed throaty sounds leaving her lips. Then she pushed back against me shamelessly rubbing her bottom against me, silently urging me on.

I took her from behind most of the time, as though that could take away from how personal this had become, but it didn't. Not by a long stretch.

Unable to stop myself, I squeezed her ass, pushing up the band of the nightdress around her waist, I traced my fingers down the expanse of her back across her velvety smooth skin.

Ivie arched into my touch, her body trembling beneath me. She reached out for my hand to her side, but I didn't let her touch me. Instead, I reached for her dark hair spread across her back and the sheets like spilled ink.

Gripping her hair and forcing a tighter arch between us, I began to thrust inside her.

Ivie's hips rolled relentlessly against mine as I moved in her with long meticulous thrusts that soon gave way to hasty, less controlled thrusts as I lost myself in her.

Ivie huffed at each of my deep strokes, her body winding tighter and tighter around me until she shook as I f****d her through her first o****m, her grunts quickly transforming into breathless exclamations.

Listening to her undid whatever modicum of control I had left, and I thrust into her harder, faster, my c**k pulsing in her tightening channel even as I gripped her hips so hard I knew I would leave bruises.

Then I came inside her feeling her walls pulse around me in another o****m.

I hovered over Ivie for a few more seconds even though I should have moved away immediately. I pressed my lips to the juncture between her neck and shoulder, mouthing the place where my mark on her was supposed to be.

Ivie's hand covered mine, holding onto me as though I was going to disappear that very moment.

That was what broke me out of my trance.

What was I doing? I hated Ivie. How had I forgotten that?

I pulled away from her by pushing her hand off mine. Ivie sat upright, her hair falling over her breasts.

“Dante,” her voice was shaky. “Don't go… not today.”

She'd noticed it too. The gradual shift in this thing between us.

My jaw clenched and unclenched.

“Get your clothes and get out of my room.” I said, before turning away from her and walking away to the bathroom to wash her scent off me.

Maintaining the line between us kept things from becoming too messy.

“Prince Dante?”

The courtier was staring at me as though it wasn't the first time he had tried getting my attention.

I blinked, anchoring myself in the now instead of a past that I should have erased from my mind the moment I discarded Ivie.

It didn't matter that she had been so unaffected by my touch at the diner instead of giving in to me as she always had. It didn't matter that her new attitude was probably due to the fact that she was seeing Jordan.

No.

All that mattered was the fact that the door of the conference room was ajar.

The council has come to a decision.

About bloody time.

“Thank you for making it to this meeting.” Elder Hardt's voice easily traveled across the room.

He stood at the head of the council members side of the table with Jordan and I seated opposite them.

I didn't look at my cousin. The last thing I wanted was to lose my temper in front of the council.

Elder Hardt cleared his throat and continued speaking when there was no interruption.

“Today after careful deliberation, the council will speak with one voice, and I shall head this meeting. I would like to go straight to the matter at hand. The Lycan throne has been vacant for the past two years and the time has come to make a decision upon which the continuation of our species rests upon.”

He turned, inclining his head slightly, his eyes settling on me as he spoke.

“Prince Dante, you have served this court well as have your fathers before you and for that, this council is eternally grateful, but the royal bloodline must be secured.”

I heard what he didn't say.

They wanted to bring Jordan into the running for the throne to possibly replace me.

Even though I had been expecting it, rage flooded my veins, my Lycan half battling for superiority.

“I am the heir to the throne.” My words were a low growl.

I watched the members of the council exchange furtive glances.

Elder Hardt frowned slightly.

“The laws clearly state that only a prince with an heir can become King.”

“I am royalty, I am the law.” I reminded them.

It might have sounded arrogant to an outsider, but it was true. Being the King wasn't just a matter of appointment but bloodlines. And I, Dante Orion, had been born to be King. Any other outcome was unacceptable.

We all knew Jordan couldn't rule.

Not only did he carry a traitor's blood in his veins, but he also knew next to nothing of our people and their needs. He was too busy mingling with humans and sating his desires that he had forgotten his roots.

“Dante is right,” Jordan's voice cut through my haze of anger, and I couldn't believe his next words.

“I know nothing about the Lycan throne. I am wholly unsuited to inherit the throne instead of Dante solely based on fertility.”

He was admitting his incompetence but from the soft looks of admiration on the council members' faces, I could tell he had won them over by not fighting for it.

Of course, they would prefer a pushover king they would be able to easily influence.

Fucking geezers.

This petty politics was one of the reasons I preferred the cutthroat world of the international market over my court some days.

“The issue of inheritance is yet to be set in stone,” Elder Hardt interjected.

“Seeing as both of you meet the bloodline prerequisite, the council has decided that the first among the both of you to produce an heir will inherit the throne.”

What?

I looked at Elder Frey who glanced away sharply. I’d thought as Father's confidante, I could trust him, but he'd known of this development and kept it from me.

To be honest, I should have expected it.

With the current state of Miranda and I's relationship, I could kiss my throne goodbye. I couldn't allow that.

Elder Hardt's stern brown gaze settled on me as though he could read my thoughts.

“If you continue to resist our decision, Prince Dante, you will find out the importance of the council in quelling the rising discontent of the people with regard to your rule, particularly your mate's excesses.”