Unexpected

Stefan

I'm not entirely sure what is wrong with me, but I don't feel great.

“Your Highness, are you okay?” Jacub appears in my face, and my head shakes. The room spins slightly, and my eyes fall on a woman. “Your Highness.” His words this time are louder.

“Something is wrong, and I feel like I’m drugged. Something feels wrong.” Why did I repeat that? A king doesn’t repeat himself. My words are barely even a whisper, or at least to me sound quiet.

“Your father, the king, feared this would happen.” Jacub looks at me.

“What?” I ask, trying to focus, but I fail, and the feelings continue to grow.

“There was a threat. Someone was going to try and get to him. Lace his drink with drugs, and a woman would guide him into a private room. She was set to record the encounter and use it against him,” he explains, and I nod. “Do not leave with a woman who offers herself to you, Your Highness.” His words are serious, and I nod.

Laughing at him because I wouldn’t anyway. My relationships are hidden in the dark. Most of the women I have slept with didn’t know it was me. Jacub speaks to them, ensures they know that they can’t know who I am, and they agree. Their knowing makes them think they can use me.

“Just find me a woman, please. I will be in the room I usually have when I stay here.” I walk through the manor, trying to remember which room I would usually sleep in. I see the guards, and I walk towards the door.

“Your Highness.” The guard steps aside and gives me entry into the room. As I make my way inside, I flick off the lights one by one and let the darkness cradle me.

My mind goes to Harlyn, and her how gaze continued to linger on me, with the same unwavering hopefulness. My rejection should have deterred her, but she continued in her pursuit. I can’t explain the annoyance I feel at the fact she still keeps trying. I hate hurting her, but she won’t stay away from me.

The existence of humans, these feeble creatures masquerading as werewolves, disgusts me. They are nothing more than failed attempts at receiving the blessing of the Moon Goddess.

When Harlyn arrived at my chambers on her sixteenth birthday, I already knew what I had to do, no matter how much it hurt me. So I rejected her, acted like she wasn’t worthy, and threw her away.

Some things are true like she embodies everything I hate. She is weak and clumsy, and she lives in a constant state of fear. She stuttered like a toddler, and I had no choice but to reject her. After showing, I step out and hear the door, wrapping the towel around myself, I walk into the room.

I see the silhouette of Jacub and someone else. He pushes her towards the bed and walks out. I don't speak; there is a risk that she will recognise my voice. Walking to the bed, my hands instantly touch her skin. It is the softest skin I have ever felt, and her scent is intoxicating. I pull her closer to me.

I was hoping that the cold shower would work, but it didn't. My hand settles on her cheek. She mutters something inaudible, but I ignore it. Kissing her, I pin her down and pull her dress. My hand traces her body, every part, and I feel like I am drowning in the feel of her.

I'm becoming dizzy from the sensation of her. She's so soft and sweet; her mouth tastes like tequila and a hint of honey, and I can't stop kissing her for some reason.

Pushing her legs open, I settle between them. As I notch my cock against her entrance, there's obstruction. Shit. She's pure, I want to stop, but she moans against my mouth.

I don't want to destroy this woman just to relieve the urge I have, but for some reason, I can't stop kissing her. I crave her like I've never craved anyone. My fingers worked within her, and soon, I was settled deep within her. I groan at her warmth; something about her is compelling; it's like a drug within itself.

She barely mutters anything and lets me use her body; I take her in every way possible. Even after the effects of the drugs wear off, I keep going because she's addictive and like no one I've met. I lose myself in the feel of her, craving to touch every spot of her body.

A knock has me pause.

“Your Highness, we should be leaving soon.” Is it really already morning? He says no more, and I know he's right. I need to leave before anyone sees me with a random woman, but I don't want to leave her. It's a feeling I've never had before. I know though, I can’t set off late, I had plans.

I pull her to me, deciding to have her again before departing. This time, I'm gentle and loving, constantly kissing her. I finish and pull away. My eyes are on the darkened figure. I want to speak, ask her name.

Sighing, I reluctantly walked to the bathroom and cleaned myself. Fighting the urge to speak to the woman or turn the light on so I can at least catch a glimpse of the woman. The outcome of it should she recognise me, and speak of this won’t go down well. The future king is meant to save himself for his mate, or his future queen.

I walked out and ensured someone would put clothes in the room for her, considering I had ruined her dress. Something I hadn’t even considered at the time.

The journey is long, and all I can think about is her. I'll return when I’m no longer busy in a few weeks, but I want to return now and find her.

I look towards Jacub.

“Who was the woman?” I ask.

“The one I brought to you?” He looked at me, and I thought it would be evident that is who I meant.

“Yes, who is she? Her name?” I need to find her when I get back.

I watch as he considers it.

“I don't know.” He says bluntly.

His words shocked me. “What do you mean you don't know?” How could he not know? He was meant to fucking speak to her.

“Your Highness, your father had told me that any woman would do if you should be drugged. I found any woman, one I was sure wouldn't have been part of the plan.”

I wanted to find her. How do I find a person he doesn't even know?

“Can you tell me anything about her?” I ask.

“She was intoxicated. Walking down one of the halls.”

Dred fills me as I hear his words. “Jacub, did you speak to her?” What has he done?

“Your father insisted I find any woman, one who wouldn't remember.” His words burn through me.

“You're joking! How intoxicated was she!” Is that why she was so quiet? I glare across at him.

“Enough not to remember,” he says calmly.

“Which means enough not to consent or tell me fucking no!” I rage, and he laughs.

“Your father was insistent. The kingdom would look badly should a sex tape be revealed or a woman share her encounter of the night she had the prince in bed.”

I know he's right about that, but now, I wonder if she even consented. She didn't say no, but even I know that means nothing if she was too drunk to understand what was happening.