The Royal Stripper

EPISODE 5: OLD COLD CURRENT

CLEOPATRA'S POV

The ride from Lycanthria to Elarion was quiet, the horses’ hooves echoing softly on the cobblestones. My mind spun as I returned to my father’s house, seeking both solace and guidance from my mother—torn between two princes who now knew my secret, and wondering what would come next.

"Cleo!" Maddie ran out as soon as the cart pulled up.

She threw her arms around me in a tight hug. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed her.

I hugged her back, squeezing her gently. "I've missed you, my not so little one."

Her small hand brushed against my neck, lingering over the scar Prince Ellie had left me during that fateful night. "What happened to your neck?"

I gave a faint smile. "Just a little scratch."

"Welcome back, my Princess," my mother, Hannah, said as she stepped forward to greet me.

Ever since she’d learned the Prince had asked for my hand in marriage, she insisted on calling me Princess.

"Has the date for your big ceremony been set?" she added, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

I forced a tight smile.

Her expression shifted the moment she saw my face. "Come in. You must tell me everything that happened."

Maddie busied herself in the kitchen as my mother and I slipped into her small chamber, seeking a moment of privacy to speak.

"He tried to have his way with me… and called it a ritual," I explained everything that had happened with Prince Ellie.

Mom’s face turned red—but not with anger at him, at me.

"Why didn’t you let him?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

"I… I wasn’t ready," I tried to explain.

"Not ready? He’s a prince—and a future Alpha! He was going to be your husband! Do you know what you just let slip away, you foolish girl?" Her fury flared even hotter.

"The Queen didn’t like me anyway," I muttered.

"None of that matters!" she snapped. "What matters is the goal: securing the prince—and the future Alpha!"

“Well, if this makes you feel better, his stepbrother, Prince Hale, also asked me to marry him,” I said.

Mom’s expression softened. “Who are you?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You should have spoken sooner,” she said, touching my cheeks gently, her smile proud and warm.

“Mama… you’re not worried, since he’s whispered to be cursed?” I asked, a twinge of concern in my voice.

"A curse passes not to another merely for taking a cursed as their spouse,” she said with quiet certainty.

“But…what if he marks me as his mate. Being bound to him… that would be most perilous, would it not?” I asked, hesitating.

Mom’s smile deepened, warm and patient. “His curse does not allow him to take a mate.”

“Really?” I whispered, astonished.

She rapped my head gently with the back of her hand. “Silly girl. Do you not know that a lycan must first master the art of control before the moon itself grants him the right to claim a mate?”

I blinked, genuinely clueless, the weight of her words sinking in.

“And… I also heard he cannot control his wolf, Mama,” I added, voicing the next concern that had been gnawing at me.

She chuckled softly, her eyes glinting. “You’ll only have to worry about that on a full moon, dear.”

“But… how come you seem to know so much about all this?” I asked, curiosity creeping in.

She clicked her tongue. “That’s because I’m the mother, and you’re the child. Now come—let’s go help Madison in the kitchen.”

“Mom… there’s another problem.” I stopped her abruptly. How could I forget the bigger issue?

Mom shot me a sharp, bloodshot glare. “Say it.”

“They know… I’m Red Hair,” I whispered.

Mother’s eyes widened. “Both of them?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

Her gaze pinned me in place. “How?”

“He said he knew from my blue eyes,” I explained.

Mom’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Well, lots of people have blue eyes. Did you deny it?”

“I tried,” I admitted.

“No! Don’t tell me you tried. Tell me you denied it completely. Entirely.” Her voice sharpened.

“Mama…” My voice shook.

Then she grabbed a handful of my hair—just a little too hard. “You need a redye.”

I blinked back the tears forming in my eyes.

“What do I do?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Mother stepped closer, her smile unwavering. “They both know, and they both desire you… you should have them both.”

I blinked three times. “What?”

"Prince Ellie is about to marry Penelope, and you are to marry Prince Hale. It is simple—you can be Prince Hale’s wife, yet still be Prince Ellie’s mate… and his mistress."

She spoke so quietly that the words sent chills down my spine.

My mouth fell open. “Mother…”

“Of course you can have them both, my child,” she said, her smile unfaltering.

Mother was the master planner. Every turn my life had taken—from becoming a stripper to attending the village dance that caught Prince Ellie’s attention had been part of her design. But this one… this one didn’t sit right.

She was asking me to become a royal w***e. My nights had been spent dancing for coins in royal halls, and now my mother wanted me to have them both—the two princes?

"Remember, every sacrifice you make is for you, your parents and sister," she said softly, brushing my hair back. "We are but Omegas. We hold no power. And you—wolfless, the legitimate son has more chance of becoming both King and Alpha. You don’t want to lose the good one, do you?"

I shook my head hesitantly, swallowing hard.

She pulled me into a tight embrace.

Dinner was peaceful after that. Father wasn’t home—he was a hunter, always gone for days at a time.

Days passed quickly, and soon I found myself in a carriage bound for Lycanthria once more. My mother had devised yet another of her master plans—one I had no choice but to follow

I had barely settled in when a knock came at the door.

Prince Hale stood there, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Come. Meet my father. I want the wedding to happen tomorrow.”

Without another word, we made our way to the Alpha King’s chamber. The air grew heavier with every step. He was sick and bedridden, his chamber heavily guarded by silent men whose eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.

When we arrived, the Queen was just stepping from the doorway.

“You’re back,” she said coldly the moment she saw me.

“I’m here to show her to Father,” Prince Hale answered calmly.

The Queen’s face tightened into a forced smile.

Hale and I walked into the chamber.

“Father.”

The Alpha King turned his head with slow effort. One word fell from him, flat and certain: “Red hair.”

The sound landed like a thrown stone. It startled us both.

The Queen whirled, eyes narrowing as if she’d heard more than the single word. I felt it—some old, cold current move through the room.

Then the King called again, louder this time: “Hannah.”

My blood ran cold. How could he know my mother?