The Alpha’s Wild Princess

5

"Marrying her will show the pack that they can trust you to be reasonable and act on their behalf, despite your interests," Malcolm, another elder, added.

I didn't miss the dig, but I decided to ignore them; I knew they wanted to test me, to know my limits, and I was not going to give them the pleasure of a response.

"You want me to marry the same woman whose father I've just killed?" I asked.

"Prairie has never been known to be violent. She's not going to try anything funny," Sebastian added, and I glanced at Douglas.

That was not what I’d witnessed in my two encounters with the girl, but I didn’t mention it.

“She did not grow up around her family. She’s the peacemaker, we’re certain she would not be opposed to the idea.”

“And if she is? What then?” I asked, but none of them could give any definitive answer, and I knew that was because they had no idea.

CHAPTER 3

PRAIRIE

“Y

ou should have come back ages ago! This would never have happened!”

My father's booming voice shook the reservation, and even though I'd promised myself I would not cower in fear before, it was hard to do that when his eyes were glowing and his claws were out. His voice sounded like the roar of ten lions all standing in the same space.

“Father, you’ve never needed me before…”

“And we still don’t need you, but I’ll be damned if my enemies think they can use you as a pawn in their war against me,”

Phoenix snickered by my side, but I didn’t pay him any heed. There was no difference between my brother and a snake. One of the reasons I hated coming home was this sick war my father had planted between us since we were kids. Phoenix fed into it, no matter how many times I had told him that I had no interest in taking his inheritance as the next Alpha of the Chandra.

“Then leave me alone! I’ll stay away, I'll change my name if you want, but I don’t want anything more to do with this family than you want to do with me,”

My father stood from his seat and approached me, but something happened—something I could not explain because it defied nature.

A hand with a knife appeared out of thin air, I saw the hand before my father did; he was too focused on coming toward me and had seen it too late. Phoenix, on the other hand, had not been paying attention, so when the knife sliced through my father’s neck and almost severed his head all he saw was my father bleeding, choking on his blood, and lying flat on the floor at my feet.

“You killed him!” Phoenix yelled, his voice sounding as if it was in another world. The guards started to race towards me, there was no escape. It was not until I opened my eyes that I found myself covered in sweat and panting as though I’d just run a marathon.

The room was dark now, and I was disoriented, wondering where the hell I was. It took me a few moments for the memories of the past twenty-four hours to come crashing back: the call from my father to return home, returning to a bloodbath, my father dead, and my brother on the run. What used to be my home was now overrun by the same people who’d sent my family into chaos.

“You talk to yourself in your sleep,” a deep voice spoke and startled me in the dark. I was on my feet in a flash, claws out and ready to attack. It was a familiar voice, one that had only become familiar in the last few hours.

“What the hell are you doing, creeping around in the dark? Looks like you lot get your kinks watching women sleep.”

What I got in response to my outburst was a long drawn-out silence, then the sound of feet padded lightly on the tiles before his face came into view, but it was still too dark to see his features,

“Why do you hate your father?” he asked, ignoring my last words as if I’d not spoken at all. It was the last question I had expected him to ask, and given the foreboding tone in his voice, I guessed he was not asking me to exchange life stories for the fun of it.

“I never said I hated my father.” The distance between us was wide enough, but I did not trust any of them and moved away from the bed. I found my way to the wall and the light switch and switched on the light, wincing slightly when the harsh fluorescent illuminated the dark room. He did not so much as flinch, and his eyes remained fastened on me while I tried not to break eye contact.

“You did not even flinch when you were told he was dead,” he said, watching me closely as if searching for some kind of reaction.

I would not give him the satisfaction and forced my expression to remain stoic.

“Why are you here?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject. The last person I wanted to talk about was my father with the man who killed him.

He was quiet again, staring at me, before looking away to stare at the bed I’d just been in. The sheets were rumpled where my frame had been, and I took the opportunity to get a really good look at him. He was no longer covered in blood and his hair was no longer strewn over his shoulders and face.

He wore a plain black t-shirt tailored perfectly to his body, his abs almost visible. Some of his tattoos peeked out from the sleeves of his arms, and I tried to stare closely to understand their meaning, but just as quickly as he looked away.

“There’s something you need to know,” he said. I leaned back, folding my hands,

“Really, you’re going to give me notice of my own death?” Even though I was being sarcastic, a part of me knew that he was not going to kill me. If he were going to he would have done it at the reservation.

Instead, he’d kept me comfortable in this room, albeit with the handsy guards, whom I hadn’t seen since the incident.

“We’re getting married.”