Page 33 of Promised to the Alpha Prince

“I don’t want that,” she said with another yawn.

“You sure?” I whispered.

“Mmm,” she murmured, and then… adorably… she started to snore.

I gathered her up into my arms and held onto her for dear life.

I could scent something about what she’d said, though. It wasn’t a lie—I couldn’t scent lies, anyway—but there was something… something off about it when she said she didn’t want it.

I simply wasn’t sure what that meant.

8

aurelie

I WAS SURPRISED when I wasn’t very hungover the next day, because I’d never taken so many shots in an evening. I’d had three, plus another drink, and four drinks usually tanked me. Maybe it was because Johannes kept insisting we drink water all night. There must have been something to the hydration thing. Or maybe it was because I had stopped drinking a few hours before I fell asleep.

But I thought it was because of him.

I woke up to him carrying me up the stairs in the castle. I couldn’t believe it. No one had carried me anywhere in years and years. He was doing it like it was nothing, and I was all snug up against his chest, wrapped up in his perfect scent.

I pretended to be asleep while he brought me all the way up to my room.

Then, he deposited me in my bed and tucked me in.

I moaned, missing his scent, his closeness. “I wish you could stay here with me,” I murmured, worrying into the pillow.

“Fuck, omega,” he breathed. “Really?”

“I like the way you smell,” I said.

He stripped off his shirt and his belt and climbed into bed with me, shirtless, wearing his jeans, and he held me all night long. And I think he was just a Johannes-hangover-cure, that’s what I think.

He left around dawn.

I woke to him tiptoeing out of the room.

I made another annoyed sound, but he came back, kissed me really hard, and said, “I have to go, omega, I have to.”

So, I let him go, and then I drifted off to sleep for another several hours.

I woke to a text from Dmitri. Lunch today, just the two of us. Noon.

Was it a question or an order? I typed that out, thought better of it, deleted it, and typed back—instead—Yes, Your Highness. Which was still a little snarky, I thought, but at least less.

The text came back immediately. Please call me Dmitri.

I snorted. Right over his head, then. Well, that was better. I thought about thumbs-upping that, wondered if he would think that was snarky, and settled for sending a smiley emoji instead.

Which was when I realized that it was late morning, closing in on 10:00, and if I wanted to be ready by noon, I needed to get out of bed.

There was a bathroom attached to my room, all gold and red inside. It had a deep soaking tub with a gleaming gold faucet and a separate large shower. It had already been stocked with my favorite beauty products when I arrived, even though I’d packed a lot of things. I was surprised to see that. Someone must have done their research well, maybe sending inquiries to my family or my family’s servants, I wasn’t sure.

After my shower and after I had styled my hair—I had to blow dry the front of it to make sure that it would fall in what looked like carelessly random tendrils but actually needed a bit of coaxing, though the rest could air dry if I had time, and I did today—I surveyed my closet again.

What to wear?

I wished I had a friend to text to ask, like back in high school, before I presented, when I was still flirting with the idea of Corentin. My best friend Gina and I used to text for hours, while I sent her pictures, asking her which bathing suit I should be lounging in while Corentin cleaned the pool. We’d giggle over the options for hours. Then, after he left, we’d dissect every word that came out of his mouth, looking for hidden meanings.

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