Page 109 of Promised to the Alpha Prince

The horse he had for me was a dappled little mare whose name was Strawberry. I liked her right away. His horse was a mare, too, brown all over, named Peaches. “They like fruit names here,” he informed me.

I giggled.

The air outside was chill in the morning. It was spring, but up here in the mountains, it was quite cold. There was frost all over the ground. We set out into the brisk air, our horses blowing out clouds of warm vapor from their nostrils, and our breath visible as well.

It was nice, though. The air was clean, and it was early, and it felt as if the entire world belonged to us—him and me—and that we were on an adventure together.

I felt as if some part of me, maybe a part of me that I’d buried after I presented, was waking up and getting filled in this moment.

We galloped off together, and it felt like freedom, and I realized how badly I’d been craving that feeling.

We rode through a path in the woods, frosty-covered branches on either side of us, a world of beauty sparkling in the early light of morning. We went over a bridge that crossed a sparkling stream and through fields and over hills and into valleys.

Eventually, we arrived at a building with decorative exposed wooden beam framework. There was a sign that proclaimed it the Rothburg House. There was actually a spot to tie up the horses, complete with a trough for them, as if we’d stepped back in time two hundred years.

I was charmed.

He offered me his arm and I took it, grinning widely as we made our way inside.

The staff recognized us immediately and ushered us through the dining room, which was pretty sparsely peopled, actually, less than ten customers, and into a private room in the back where a little table was set up for us.

There were fresh flowers in a vase in the middle and a hot pot of coffee steaming and waiting along with cream and sugar.

We sat down and poured ourselves coffee, stirring in the cream and sugar and the waitress came and set down glasses of beer in front of us, like this was normal, and Johannes laughed at me.

“We’ll have sausages and pretzels, of course,” he told the waitress. To me, he said, “It’s the best thing here. It’s a bit early for it. More of a mid-morning brunch-type meal, but it’d be too crowded later.”

“Beer for breakfast?” I said, after the waitress left.

“I don’t think people up here in the mountains think of it as something alcoholic,” he said. “This is a very light beer, a hefeweizen. Taste it.”

I did. It was light, and it was good, too.

“Beer’s a staple food, like bread,” he said, drinking half of his glass.

“Bread in a glass,” I said, drinking more of mine, giggling.

“Exactly right,” he said, holding his glass up to toast me.

We clinked glasses and I drank more coffee.

The waitress came right in with the sausages—which were light-colored, almost white—and big, thick pretzels along with mustard for dipping. Everything was delicious. The sausages were flavorful and tasted like bacon (“Yup, that’s in there, along with veal, I think,” Johannes told me) and the pretzels and mustard were a perfect accompaniment. I ate every bit of it on my plate and finished my beer, too.

While we ate, Johannes asked me questions. Where had I grown up, what was my favorite food, was I missing my family, what had my sisters thought about the wedding, all sorts of things. I hadn’t realized how much, lately, no one had been asking me about things like that.

Dmitri was focused on me all the time, and Corentin had been, too, but it was different than this. It felt like possession, I supposed, and this felt like… courtship.

That was Johannes. Since the first time I’d met him, he’d made me feel at ease. I’d felt appreciated around him. He’d been considerate. He’d been interested in me.

I remembered how much I’d wanted him before the heat, before Dmitri’s bite. I remembered how I hadn’t even been sure I wanted Dmitri at all.

“Hey,” he said. “What are you thinking about? You got all serious there, and your scent changed?”

I shrugged. “Just everything, I guess. This whole thing with all of us. I was thinking about how much I wanted you when we first met, and how Dmitri managed to completely cock-block that and drown our connection out. And I love Dmitri, I do, but…”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

“Because you love him?”

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