Page 139 of Rogue Alpha Prince

“Ahem, Luna didn’t you mention your cousins are getting married soon?” She quickly changes the subject, without any subtlety.

I pick up the fork again and glance at Cain, who is sipping his wine and summoning someone with his fingers.

“Yes, they’ve been mated for a few years now, but they are young and they wanted to finish their bachelor's degrees first,” I answer, knowing damn well that we already talked about the ‘mango pair’ in length during one of our dancing outings—so she must be fishing for some other information. “Why?”

“I heard you are taking our Alpha to your family again soon, I was wondering if it might be the reason.”

Huh. I didn’t know Cain planned for us to go there.

I look at him for some confirmation, only to be shocked at the sight of the same promiscuous girl from a week before; feeding fucking grapes to him while he’s actively observing me.

Me or my reaction.

I manage to keep a composed face and just raise my brow at him, but soon my sight is caught by the girl’s wandering hand. There is no sign of her laughter and silliness from before—she actually looks scared—but she still wants to glue herself to my husband.

I don’t want to look atthat. I turn back to Claudia.

“I guess you shouldn’t be so surprised about the mark, when even with it, Alpha clearly has a lot of room to wiggle.”

She snorts up her wine, and has to grab a napkin to wipe the front of her ruined dress. Her friend, Remy, stands up, pretending she noticed someone in the other part of the yard. Smart girl.

“I heard it doesn’t hurt until they literally put their penises in someone else,” Claudia says quite frankly, putting the stained napkin away.

“Oh no, the thoughts count too,” says Cain’s gamma, Atlas, who I now realize must have approached us from my behind at some point. I was too distracted to notice he has been leaning on the back of my chair, and the loud environment was not helping either. “It all depends on the situation, but you will be in pain for sure when there’s a real reason to.”

“How do you know?” I ask curiously, knowing he doesn’t sport any mark himself. Never did.

“Did you get me a suit?” Cain asks him; and waves off the grape girl, as if she was only summoned here to show me I shouldn’t feel too confident.

“I’m surprised she didn’t get more time off after you cut her tongue out,” Atlas answers instead.

“What?” I look back and forth between the two of them.

Cain looks back at me with an impenetrable gaze, and shrugs his shoulders. “You didn’t like her laugh, so I cut it out… What about the suit?”

“Why do you need a suit? You already have one,” I interrupt them again, trying not to dwell on the horrible tongue-cutting picture that now lives rent-free in my head. Unfortunately, I know how it looks all too well, and it took me months to stop seeing it behind my closed eyes after the last time.

“The one I have is black, and we are going to the wedding,” Cain says, annoyed at me, or at this semi-formal evening wear. Or both.

So, we are going to the wedding. Cool, good to know. Why am I always the last to know?

“You don’t need a suit for that,” I am honestly surprised he even tries to be compliant. Again. “You are a fucking Rogue Alpha Prince; you will go there in your fur and cool leather thing with a sword and everything, like you always do.”

“Cheers to that,” says Atlas, with annoyance in his voice, and grabs my wine glass.

I have not been drinking it anyway, so I choose to ignore it.

“What’s your problem with that?” I ask about his attitude. He should be happy that I don’t want his Alpha to change for anyone.

“Do you know how hard it was to find a suit in his size?” Atlas scoffs and sits by me at the site Rogue Beta usually occupies, “Wait, is it juice?” he asks with disgust.

“I thought you would be mad if I don’t act civilized at the wedding,” Cain leans back in his throne-like chair.

Didn’t I show him already that I don’t want him to change, the last time we were with my family?

I glance at Beta approaching our table from Claudia’s side, and then I focus on Cain again.

“Yeah, I will be mad when you say things like ‘whore’ instead of ‘sex worker’, but your style? Sorry, but if I would want to—"

---