I Rejected My Mate, The Prince

Chapter 2

**Clarissa’s POV**

A week has passed since that agonizing night when Prince Cone brutally deflowered me. During these days, he has scarcely visited my apartment. Our interactions have been limited to brief encounters at breakfast and dinner. I can't deny that I feel relieved by his absence, but a nagging curiosity lingers about what he thinks of me.

Naturally, I wonder about his thoughts. Was he disappointed by my inexperience, my tears, or the lack of romantic feelings between us? But I suspect it might have more to do with my body.

My physique is far from curvy, and the disparaging comments from some members of our pack still haunt me. They've called me names like "skinny as a chopstick" and speculated about birth defects or illnesses causing my appearance. I've endured these comments, silently absorbing their cruelty.

My wolf, too, remains silent and distant. Since shifting at seventeen, I've never communicated with her, and nobody can explain why. This fact only fueled my stepmother's resentment, who deemed me a disgrace like my late mother, whom she described as weak and hypocritically kind.

While I may be undeniably kind, I reject the label of hypocrite. I am an empath, attuned to the emotions of others. I find it challenging to be unkind when I sense the pain hidden beneath the tough exteriors of those in our pack. Their struggles with abusive parents, loneliness, self-loathing, and profound sadness are burdens I can't ignore. I yearn for their peace, and this quality of mine has only intensified their hatred, for I am different. They don't understand me—only another empath could.

Adjusting to palace life has proven difficult. My attempts to befriend the maids and guards, to treat them as equals, have only made them uncomfortable. I've given up trying to connect with them and turned to the solace of books.

I now find myself in the library, a sanctuary where I can immerse myself in knowledge. The scent of old pages fills the air, a mixture of dew, mold, and years of wisdom. It beckons to me like an old friend.

One book, in particular, catches my attention: "Five Most Mysterious Places in Goldova" by Cornelius The Great. I can hardly contain my excitement, for it promises a glimpse into the enigmatic corners of our kingdom. I reach for it eagerly, eager to lose myself in its pages and momentarily escape the confines of my reality.

Hastily, I rush back to the library's sitting area and collapse onto one of the plush couches. It emits a soft squeak under my weight as I eagerly turn the first page of the book, ready to delve into its mysteries. However, my focus is shattered by the approaching footsteps of an unexpected visitor.

A man strides into the library, clad in body armor that underscores the seriousness of his demeanor. My heart sinks as I recognize Prince Cone, his left cheek bearing a telltale stain of blood. He shoots me a rough glance but proceeds toward the bookshelves, seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts.

Despite my initial excitement, I find it impossible to concentrate on the book. Why does the prince appear so grim? My mind races with thoughts of the potential battles he may have fought or the prisoners he may have interrogated.

Suddenly, he emerges from the rows of bookshelves and advances toward me, a foreboding presence. In one swift motion, he snatches the book from my hands, his expression contorted in annoyance.

"Why do you have this?" His voice is sharp, and his face tenses with irritation. "This is my book. Don't you know that the third shelf is mine? No one is supposed to touch the books on the third shelf!"

"I didn't know, Your Grace," I stammer, surprised by the intensity of his reaction. It's just a book, I think to myself.

"Don't ever touch my books!" He warns sternly before pivoting and heading for the door. He pauses, casting a final glance in my direction. "Take your bath and come see me in my room. Don't make me wait." With that, he exits the library, leaving me perplexed by his sudden summons.

As I contemplate his request, my mind buzzes with questions. Why does he want to see me in his room now, after avoiding me for days? What could possibly be his motive?

For the past thirty minutes, I've been pondering on these questions.

Following his instructions, I've taken a bath, assisted by my personal maid, Athena, who then dressed me in one of the opulent royal gowns from my closet. She applied makeup, and now I stand ready to meet the enigmatic prince.

His living quarters is directly opposite mine, sharing a common corridor, yet it feels like two distinct worlds separated by a vast divide. A royal guard escorts me without inquiry, closing the door behind me as I step inside.

My first glimpse of the Prince's living quarters reveals opulence bathed in darker hues. Dark coffee-colored couches and furnishings dominate the living room. I navigate past this richly decorated space, heading through an archway that leads directly to the door of his bedroom.

I recognize the layout as being similar to mine, with a spacious living area and a master bedroom equipped with an adjoining bathroom. Cooking isn't necessary, as all meals are prepared in the palace kitchen, but I’ve seen a coffee maker in his living room.

With a deep breath, I summon the courage to knock on his bedroom door, my heart pounding as I await his response.

"Come in," his voice responds from the other side, and I push open the door and entered.