Page 31 of The Alpha's Cursed Queen

Cyrus makes a sound of disgust. “Just you wait. Some old, fat, balding shifter will take her just for a pity fuck. That’s all she’s good for.”

“Have you said your piece?” Mary demands, her eyes flashing. I can see that she’s ready to punch Cyrus. I hold her back.

“Let him talk.” I try to calm my friend. “He’s not going to hurt me in front of anybody here. Besides, this may be the last opportunity he has to say anything to me.”

Cyrus stares at me. “How come? Are you going to go kill yourself or something, Firecrotch?”

The mention of my nickname does not phase me. The children I grew up with chose the most degrading name they could think of, and it stuck with me for years. Even the adults in our pack are not above using it when they really want to hurt me. It doesn’tbother me that much. They can say what they like. Doesn’t make it true.

“No.” I take a step toward him, sneering. “I am planning to leave. You can find somebody else to torment.”

“Leave?” Cyrus scoffs. “Where are you going to go? I doubt you have any savings. Forget money; who would take you in? My father has been kind enough to tolerate you all these years. No other pack—”

“Who said I’m going to choose to live with a wolf pack?” I laugh. “I’ve had enough of wolves. If I don’t find a mate here, I would much rather live among humans.”

Cyrus looks shocked. “If you live among humans, you’ll be considered a traitor to your kind.”

“You already consider me to be much worse than a traitor,” I point out.

Cyrus studies me, his eyes narrowed. “You’re bluffing. If anything happens to you, you won’t even be able to see a healer. You know that, right?”

I shrug. “Still beats living with your pack.”

He tilts his head. “You seem to have found yourself a spine, Firecrotch. Maybe I should give it a trial run?”

He gives me a meaningful smile, and I bare my teeth. “Give it your best shot. In fact, why don’t you hit me in front of the whole ballroom. Your father’s watching from the corner. Why don’t you show everybody what kind of son he’s raised?”

“You bitch!” Cyrus steps toward me, his posture threatening, and I simply raise my eyebrows.

“Let’s face it. You don’t have the balls to attack me in a public setting like this. This is not your pack’s territory where everyone will turn a blind eye. It’s the royal palace. Everything you do here reflects on your father.”

Mary nods at me proudly.

“Why don’t you show me that attitude once we return home?” Cyrus gives me a chilling smile.

I smile back.

He storms off, and Mary’s expression turns worried. “You shouldn’t antagonize him. He’s going to kill you when we get back.”

“Who says I’m going back?”

“What?”

I don’t get the opportunity to answer her, because the royal family arrives just then. We stay in the back of the ballroom as the speaker announces, “King Edward Kassel and Crown Prince Darian Kassel.”

Mary and I both freeze.

“There’s no way,” Mary chokes.

My mouth feels dry. “Maybe we misheard.”

“Both of us did not mishear the same thing,” Mary replies slowly. “Maybe you heard his name wrong when he told you what it was?”

“Th–that’s a definite possibility,” I stammer. “I—You know I don’t pay attention a lot of the time. Maybe I just wasn’t—”

“Oh, who are we kidding?” Mary grabs my wrist and pulls me forward till we can see the king and prince.

The king is old and frail, almost sickly looking, but my eyes are on the man standing beside him. In his official royal attire—a white, silk shirt accompanied by royal blue coattails, gold cuffs, and a red sash—Darian looks majestic and formal and so incredibly handsome. His pants are a dark color, perfectly tailored to him.

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