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Rosalind's POV

"Rosa, is that you?"

"Yes, Bast."

The lock slid open and Bast launched himself at me. 

I laughed and embraced him. He felt thin and light in my arms. Despite my best efforts, he seemed to have lost weight again. 

I kept the smile on my face as I crouched to his height and ruffled his hair. 

"Did you miss me, my little pirate?"

Bast wriggled out of my grasp but his smile lit up the atmosphere. 

"Why were you so late? I got so worried. I almost went out looking for you."

I thought of everything that had occurred today. I didn't want to tell Bast about Ronny yet. He would blame himself for being too sick to contribute. The kid was too smart sometimes.

"Work went well. I even got some treats for you." 

 I dangled the freshly baked raisin bread in front of him. 

Bastien squealed and leapt, grabbing it out of my hand. 

"You are the best, Rosa."

I stepped into the house and bolted the door shut. 

I felt good now that I was back in my own space. It might not look like much but it was everything to me.

Growing up on the streets and having nothing then slowly acquiring every bit of furniture in this house felt empowering. 

It was on those very streets I had met Bastien barely weeks after Anna's passing from extreme frostbite. 

He had tried to steal my coins and after catching him I could have turned him to the officials but I had taken one look at those beautiful brown eyes that resembled Anna's and I had accepted him into my home and my life.

Bast didn't know how old he was. Many of us from the streets didn't, though we estimated our ages and picked dates with special significance to us for celebrating each turn of age. 

I was twenty and he was ten though he didn't look it. 

It had started as a terrible cold that didn't leave no matter how many medications he used. Then it was a wracking cough and so it followed one ailment after the other until we had to pile up all our savings to see a doctor. 

The news had not been good. 

He had an immune system disorder. A rare kind that targeted prepubescent wolves. Apparently, so rare it affects one in every hundred thousand wolves. 

The way the doctor had explained it, the hormones that triggered the development of the wolf prior to its first shift were being secreted in a higher concentration than his body could process. 

His immune system was fighting against his nature as a werewolf interpreting it as a disease. 

This made him susceptible to many ailments, infections, viruses and other systemic disorders due to his compromised immune system. So as he grew older, the symptoms would only worsen as the hormone surge increased. Until it killed him. 

There was only one solution. A 24-hour treatment to regulate the werewolf hormone production coupled with treatments to boost his overall immunity until his body regulated enough to undergo his first shift.  

In other words, treatments for the elites. Treatments we couldn't afford in a million years even if I sold myself to a pleasure house. 

It hurt knowing that somewhere in this kingdom, the solution to Bast's ailment existed but because of our financial class, I would be forced to watch him die buying pain med after pain med. 

Bast noticed my new jacket. We didn't buy new stuff. Just thrifts that were still expensive as hell. 

"Whose jacket is that, Rosa? It looks expensive."

I ruffled his hair again and said in a stage whisper

"Want to hear a story about a prince I met today?"

Bast rolled his eyes, his mouth stuffed with the bread. 

"I am no longer a child, Rosa." Of course not. Anyone who spent up to ten years on the street was not a child. "Where would you meet a prince? They live in the floating palace on the hill in the capital."

Right. How would I get there tomorrow? The money for that fare would be almost all the money Ronny had handed over to me. Money that could last us for weeks. But if I got a job there, all the expenses might be worth it. 

I might be able to get enough money to buy more than painkillers.

"I promise, it was a real prince, Bast."

He had been handsome, courageous and kind. Like all the princes described in the stories I managed to read whenever and wherever I could find them. 

Bastien seemed to notice that I was telling the truth. 

"Really?" His eyes widened in shock. "So you went to the capital for work? Why didn't you tell me?"

"No, he was here. In the districts."

I laughed at Bastien's comical look of shock. 

"Here? But even the silverbags don't come here, what would the prince come here for?"

Silverbag was street slang for the nobles, the rich well-to-dos with names, titles, properties and of course the impeccable bloodline. 

They were too far above us to use bronze like we did. They used silvers that were worth far more than the average person's life here in the districts. 

Now that I considered the question, I wondered.

"I have no idea, Bast but he was just like the stories."

I recalled how his finger had lingered on my lips when I had bitten it, making me think of things that simply could not be. 

He was royalty. 

He'd probably seen so many beautiful noble she-wolves that didn't have their clothes torn or their dignity and honour questioned simply because they were trying to provide for themselves and their families. 

"So he had a sword?" Bastien seemed sceptical now. "Was it golden?"

"Uh, no." If he did, I hadn't noticed. "He didn't have a sword."

Bastien sighed dramatically with a self-assured air only children could pull off so casually.

"Then he must be a fake prince. Everyone knows real princes ALWAYS have swords. How else is he supposed to save people? You can be pretty gullible for an adult." 

I laughed. Hard. 

"Well for starters, ouch. I am not gullible for an adult. Secondly, a true prince doesn't always need a sword to save people. He has claws."

I thought of how casually he had commanded authority. How he had believed me without me saying even a word in my own defence. How he had lifted me up and covered me in his jacket. 

I thought about how he had made Ronny bow to me begging for forgiveness. There were so many rumours about the princes, our distant rulers. 

How they lived on a floating island. How they had been raised separately after their mother's death and our former king lost his mind in grief of his mate's passing. 

Some said they were merciless and ruthless, uncaring about their subjects. Others said it was the entire opposite that they were benevolent, freely giving and that they are for us. All of us. Omegas, the wolfless, helpless and the outcasts alike.

"A prince also uses his voice. He used the people's trust and belief in him. Most of all he has a good heart, Bastien."

I leaned in to give a conspiratorial whisper. 

"I am wearing his jacket right now."

"What?!" Bast's eyes were as large as saucers. "Can I have it?"

I pretended to think about it. "Sure. But only when you have had a shower, gotten into bed and taken your pain meds."

"Pain meds? You got more alongside the bread?" Bast hesitated. "Won't that be very expensive?"

"The prince offered me a job. In the capital." It was like a dream come through. 

Bast looked excited but then his excitement waned. "If you leave, will you leave me here?"

Oh, Bast.

I pulled him into an embrace so tight that he couldn't have escaped even if he wanted to.

"Bast, we are a team. A family. We go together or nothing at all. No matter how many bronzes or silver are at stake. Your health is the most important thing to me right now." 

He seemed relieved but he still spoke again.

"But Rosa, I can't ask you to leave such a great opportunity for me."

"You don't need to. That's what family does for each other. Besides, I still intend to check out the job. If it is good, I will ask for their accommodations for you and me. And if there aren't any then we'll look elsewhere for work."

Hours later I was alone in my bed, thinking of the prince. I wondered if he would keep his word about the job. I wondered if I should have accepted the money the prince had offered instead of being proud. 

I was going to see him tomorrow. The thought made my belly squirm. I wanted to get a job for Bast's sake but I was beginning to think I wanted to see him even more.

I couldn't wait to see my prince.