The Wolf Princess and Her Three Alphas

I had made it halfway over the wall when my dress got caught. Not dramatically. There was no heroic ripping of fabric or graceful leap to freedom. One minute I was straddling the boundary between the only world I’d ever known and the one I’d spent twenty-two years being forbidden from entering. The next, I was stuck. “Shit.” I looked down. The hem of my dress had snagged on one of the decorative iron spikes my great-grandfather had apparently decided were necessary when he’d built this section of the royal grounds. I tugged. Nothing. “Come on.” Another tug. Still nothing. I glanced over my shoulder. The palace rose behind me, glowing gold against the evening sky. From up here I could see directly into the ballroom, where at least thirty people were running around preparing for tomorrow night’s festivities. My festivities. A celebration in honour of Princess Elara Blackwood finally being presented to the packs. Only four years late. Apparently, the daughter of the Wolf King stepping into society was such an exciting event that half the kingdom was travelling to Blackwood to witness it. Nobody seemed particularly concerned whether the daughter of the Wolf King wanted to be presented at all. I pulled at my dress again. “Fuck.” “Your Highness?” I froze. For one stupid second, I considered pretending I hadn’t heard him. “Princess Elara?” I closed my eyes. “Yes, Thomas?” There was a pause from somewhere beneath me. “May I ask what you’re doing?” I looked down. One of my father’s guards was standing on the lawn with his arms folded across his chest. “I’m looking at the wall.” Thomas stared at me. “From the top?” “Better view.” His mouth twitched. That was the problem with Thomas. He’d known me since I was six, which made intimidating him practically impossible. “Would Your Highness like some assistance looking at the wall?” “No, thank you.” “Excellent. Then perhaps you could come down.” “I’m considering it.” “Your father is looking for you.” Of course he was. My father possessed an almost supernatural ability to notice whenever I attempted to do anything remotely interesting. “I’m twenty-two, Thomas.” “I’m aware.” “Twenty-two-year-old women are generally allowed outside.” “Generally.” “They go to restaurants.” “So I’ve heard.” “They go dancing.” “Apparently.” “They have jobs.” “Some of them.” “They have sex.” That finally did it. Thomas looked away. “Princess.” I grinned. “Just checking you were listening.” I pulled my skirt free with one final wrench and heard the unmistakable sound of fabric tearing. Perfect. I stared down at the rip. Tomorrow night I was expected to smile politely while dozens of unmated wolves paraded themselves in front of me like my father had organised some sort of royal breeding convention. Tonight, I wanted a drink. Not wine with dinner. Not champagne at some diplomatic reception where everyone watched how many glasses I had. A real drink. In a real bar. Surrounded by people who didn’t bow when I walked into a room. I’d spent three weeks planning this. There was a town less than five kilometres from the palace. I’d seen its lights from my bedroom window my entire life. Five kilometres. It might as well have been another continent. I knew exactly what my father would say if he found me. It’s not safe. His favourite sentence. It wasn’t safe for me to leave the grounds. It wasn’t safe for me to attend school outside the palace. It wasn’t safe for me to visit another pack. It wasn’t safe for me to travel without royal guards. It wasn’t safe for me to do practically anything that involved existing beyond these walls. I’d believed him when I was little. At sixteen, I’d started questioning him. At twenty-two, I was done asking. I swung my other leg over. “Elara.” Oh, f**k. Thomas immediately straightened. I slowly turned my head. My father stood about twenty metres away. King Alaric Blackwood didn’t need a crown to look like a king. I’d always found that deeply irritating. He was tall, broad and dressed entirely in black, his dark hair streaked with silver at the temples. Two members of the royal guard stood behind him. Neither looked at me. Cowards. “Hello, Father.” His eyes travelled from my face to my position on top of the wall. “What are you doing?” Apparently everyone had lost their imagination today. “Going for a walk.” “Outside the grounds?” “That’s generally where walks lead.” “Get down.” I sighed. “Father—” “Now.” There it was. The Alpha command. It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. Power slipped beneath the word, ancient and instinctive, making every wolf within hearing distance want to obey. Every wolf except mine. Not that mine had ever been particularly useful. I climbed down. The moment my feet hit the grass, my father dismissed the guards with a glance. Thomas gave me a look that said good luck before following them. Traitor. Father waited until we were alone. “What were you thinking?” “That I’d like to leave.” “You know the rules.” “Yes. I’ve had twenty-two years to memorise them.” His jaw tightened. “Tomorrow representatives from twelve packs will be inside these grounds. Security is already stretched.” “Which makes tonight rather perfect.” “This isn’t a joke.” “I’m not joking.” I folded my arms. “I want to go into town.” “No.” “I wasn’t asking.” His expression changed. Only slightly. But I saw it. “Elara.” “No. Seriously. Explain it to me.” “We’ve discussed this.” “No. You’ve told me I’m in danger and then refused to tell me what the danger actually is.” “There are people who would use you to get to me.” “Who?” “That isn’t important.” “It feels fairly f*****g important to me.” “Language.” I laughed. “Of course. Kidnapping is fine, but God forbid the princess says fuck.” “Enough.” Something inside me snapped. “No. It isn’t enough.” My voice carried across the lawn. “I’ve never left Blackwood alone. Ever. I’ve never walked through a town. I’ve never gone shopping by myself. I’ve never been inside a nightclub. I don’t even have a f*****g driving licence.” “You don’t need one.” “That’s not the point!” For a second, neither of us spoke. I hated fighting with him. That was the worst part. My father wasn’t cruel. If he had been, perhaps hating him would have been easier. He loved me. Sometimes I thought he loved me so much he’d built a cage around me and convinced himself it was a castle. His expression softened. “Tomorrow changes things.” I gave a humourless laugh. “You’ve been saying that for years.” “This time I mean it.” “What changes?” He hesitated. And there it was again. That tiny pause. That sense I’d had for years that everyone knew something about my life except me. “Tomorrow,” he said carefully, “you’ll meet the Alphas who will lead the next generation of our packs.” My stomach sank. “Ah.” “Elara—” “So that’s what this is.” “What?” “You’ve finally decided to marry me off.” “I have decided nothing of the sort.” “But you’d like me to meet them.” “Yes.” “Unmated Alphas.” Another pause. I laughed. “Jesus Christ.” “Nobody is forcing you to choose anyone.” “How reassuring.” “You need to meet people.” “You don’t let me meet people!” “I am trying to change that.” “By importing approved men directly to the palace?” His mouth twitched. I pointed at him. “Don’t laugh.” “I’m not.” “You are.” “I’m really not.” “You’ve got that thing happening with your mouth.” That did make him smile. And just like that, some of my anger disappeared. Annoying bastard. He stepped forward and kissed my forehead. “Go inside.” I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” “And Elara?” I looked back. “Stay away from the north wing tonight.” I frowned. “Why?” “The first delegations have arrived.” Something strange moved through me. “Already?” “Three packs came early.” “Which ones?” He didn’t answer immediately. I should have known then. Instead, he merely said, “Go and get changed for dinner.” Suspicious. Very suspicious. I watched him walk away. Then looked toward the palace. The north wing. Three packs. I hadn’t seen visiting wolves at Blackwood since I was a child. Not properly. My father’s council still met here occasionally, but I was always conveniently sent somewhere else whenever they did. I looked down at my torn dress. Town could wait.