The Royal Stripper

EPISODE 2: THE RITUAL

CLEOPATRA'S POV

“Red Hair.”

My heart stopped. I spun around, and there he was—Prince Hale, his emerald eyes boring into me as if he could see straight through every secret I’d buried.

Prince Ellie, standing beside me, raised an eyebrow.

“Planning on dyeing your hair red?” he said with a crooked smile, clearly oblivious to what had just happened.

“It’s… a cool color,” I whispered, forcing my voice steady even as my chest hammered in panic.

Prince Hale's expression remained unchanged, his eyes never leaving me.

Prince Ellie and I retired to the Lady Guest Chamber. He left me there, giving a polite nod, so I could change into something more comfortable.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, my heart pounding. If anyone discovered I’d been a stripper, and that I was trying to marry into the royal house… I could be locked up for life. Or worse—beheaded.

That was why our identities were always kept secret, why we were always required to wear masks.

How did he know? My heart wouldn’t stop asking that question.

Three maids swept in, helping me undress. I’d never understood how anyone could enjoy such assistance. To me, it felt like a violation, but perhaps it was their way of checking a royal bride for scars—after all, a scared bride could never become a Luna or a mate to an heir. I would grow accustomed to it.

One of them drew aside a curtain I hadn’t even noticed before, its red velvet glinting softly in the candlelight. Behind it lay a large pool, filled with roses and scented faintly of strawberries.

They took my hands, guiding me down the steps as if I were something fragile. Then they began to bathe me, rubbing in a sweet, fruity soap that smelled almost good enough to eat. I could have stayed in that water all night; its warmth and scent were intoxicating—not like the way I felt.

My long, dark hair clung to my back as one of the maids worked her hands through it, washing it gently, then suddenly stopped. I didn’t care why—I was too busy sinking into the warmth, feeling more at ease than I had in years.

By the time the bath ended, they brought an ointment, and I lay back as they massaged it into my skin. Oh, it was soothing, a perfect contrast to the tension I had felt all day. They made sure I was completely tended to.

When they finished, they handed me a loose red robe and helped me slip it on before quietly leaving.

I wore it with nothing beneath, letting the cool night breeze drift over my skin. I had never been treated like this before. To lie alone in such a soft, spacious bed felt like a luxury I could scarcely believe, a luxury reserved for royals, or women married into royalty.

My family were among the lowest ranks of wolves—Omegas, and I was even worse: wolfless. No power, no standing. That was why my mother had no objection to me being a stripper; at least I could be useful at something.

Even so, I’d still caught Prince Ellie’s eye at the village dance festival, I'd swayed my slender waist effortlessly, that was my only power. Once I married Prince Ellie, his wolf would claim me as his mate, and when he becomes the alpha, I’d finally be something—his Luna, still not powerful, but no longer entirely wolfless.

In no time, I dozed off, snoring so loudly I could hear it echoing even in my dreams. I hadn’t rested all day, and the exhaustion weighed heavily on me.

But then… something moved against my body.

I was a heavy sleeper and had never been able to tell Dreamland from reality, yet this motion persisted—slipping beneath my robe.

There was no way this was a dream.

My eyes snapped open. Prince Ellie leaned over me, a sheepish smile on his face. My stomach twisted, as I struggled to think.

“Did you… lose something?” I stammered, the words stumbling out in confusion.

“It’s time for the ritual,” he said in a low, serious voice.

I yawned, trying to steady my panic. “Oh my god… I’m stressed. Do I have to get dressed?”

“You need no clothes at all,” he replied.

“Excuse me? What ritual are you talking about?” I raised my brow, my pulse racing.

“I need to ensure no one else has claimed you, or I can’t mark you as my mate,” his smile unsettling.

“Please… leave. I’m not ready, and it’s midnight! I thought this was supposed to wait until we were married,” I protested.

“It has to be done tonight.” He said firmly.

“Prince Ellie… I’m not ready for this!” I clutched the red satin robe, wishing I could disappear.

It dawned on me at last why the maids had lingered so long—my comfort had never been their intent; their every gesture, was but a silent prelude to what was to come. Regret prickled at me, for ever agreeing to wear this robe.

But then he stood up, motionless.

I breathed a small sigh of relief… yet he didn’t leave. Instead, he began taking off his own robe.

A rising dread seized me. I scrambled to my feet, but he caught my arm and pushed me back onto the bed.

“This has to be peaceful, or I’ll call the maids to hold you down,” he warned.

“No! Please—somebody help me!” I shouted, thrashing against him.

And just as we struggled over the robe, a commotion erupted outside the room.

He paused. And then, before I could even react, the door swung open. Prince Hale burst in, striking Prince Ellie with a powerful blow.

Ellie crashed to the other side of the room, then sprang to his feet and let out a roar.

Fangs and claws erupted as his face twisted into that of a beast.

Prince Hale grabbed my arm, dragging me behind him as he stood, his eyes locked on Prince Ellie with a glare that could cut steel.

His emerald eyes glowed. He was struggling. I could sense the strain of control, like a wolf fighting to be unleashed.

No—he’s not… his first ever transformation? Here? With me in the chamber?”

I wrenched free and ran toward the center.

“Elijah! Stop!” I shouted at Prince Ellie, panic rising in my throat.

But it was too late. He lunged forward, and I was caught in the middle.