Page 176 of Rogue Alpha Prince

I eye them, standing in front of the blackboard with happy hour information in front of the burger joint we just left. “Are you sure you want to start with the library?”

“We are,” Cain says and tries to take my hand in his. “What’s wrong?”

Daylight is making my head go back to our fucked-up reality.

“Nothing,” I put my hand in his and lead them up the street.

“It’s not nothing if you flinch at the possibility of my touch,” Cain stops me and pulls me to himself, making me lift my head to see his face.

“I just… I don’t know. I guess, I still need some space from you, and…”

“I’ll give you space. I told you already, you can stay here after the wedding as long as you want, babe.”

I am getting pressed to his hot body, and ‘space’ is the last word I would use to describe it, but I try to not freak out anyway.

“Can we just get this tour over with?” I ask. “We still need to go to the wedding today and honestly, I’m the worst guide you could get. I went straight to military school at fourteen. Greg is studying here. And he makes great tours. Just… let’s get it over with already.”

“Fine by me,” says Beta, who was the reason I volunteered for this crap.

“Oh, that’s my aunt. My grandma Edith’s sister,” I say while waving at the tall and proudly straight-up grey-haired lady.

She is a history professor here, and the complete opposite in character of my favorite grandma, the previous Luna Queen of Werewolf Kingdom. The one killed by the Rogue King the Bold.

“Does she know your husband was the one who raped and killed your granny?” Beta asks and I stop in my tracks, pulling Cain with me.

“Did you?” I ask him whispering. We never got any information about what exactly happened to my father’s parents, despite getting my grandma's remains. We only knew they were dead, and he instantly became the next King. I was still a little girl back then, eight or nine years old, maybe.

Cain must have been like twenty then, probably.

“I didn’t rape her,” he whispers back evasively.

I roll my eyes.

“I knowthat, but did you kill her?”

He draws back his head with surprise.

“How do you know I didn’t rape her?” he lifts his brow.

“Because you never raped anyone,” I hiss back, angry at him for withholding information. I mean, his lack of negation is kind of confirmation it was him, but I wanted to hear it.

“How do you know that?” He scoffs, as if my statement was some kind of offense.

Fucking Rogues.

“You are too big on consent,” I hiss, crossing my forearms, genuinely believing in that statement.

The way he makes me feel safe to explore whatever I like in sex, even when I submit to him… He makes me forget in the moment who he is, and no matter how dominant he acts I always know I could stop whatever I wouldn’t like. He is a blood-thirsty bastard who likes to torment his victims, but there’s no way this guy would ever do anything sex-related without consent. I just know it.

Right?

Or do I just want to believe that—because the other possibility is just too horrible to be able to fall asleep at night next to him?

I almost jump. I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t register Cain, bent down to my height, until I heard his whisper in my ear, “You are right, but maybe I am big on consent because I did rape before, and I wanted to change.”

I laugh and he seeks my eyes, taken aback.

“You would have to be able to feel remorse for that and you don’t,” I say in my normal bitter voice. “You don’t feel remorse about any of your actions.”

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