Page 35 of Rogue Alpha Prince

I shoot a look at the Rogue Prince. He smirks and then I notice he is not the only one listening to our conversation. I recognize at least a few officers close around. Ones I did throw out from the office with alpha command the day before. They didn’t like it. They do like what they are hearing now.

Rogue King smiles at me, looking like a cute young grandpa—while in reality—he purposely throws me bleeding into the water full of sharks.

“I was always loyal to my husband, my official alpha or not, Your Majesty,” I manage to say with a bow.

“But not to his officers, I heard? And some of them have alpha blood, you see.”

Yeah, stab me in my back; why not?

“I respect everyone here, Your Majesty, but they have to respect me back,” I say, trying not to show any weakness.

Looking at some officers' reactions, it might have been a shot to my foot.

“If you say so, my dear.” He stands up with a chuckle, grabs one of my lemons, and leaves to whatever hell he crawled from. A few guards follow him like a shadow.

Rogue Prince’s Beta walks to us instead and sits in the same chair King occupied just moments ago. He puts his feet on the table and grabs one of the roasted chicken legs.

The way he looks at me makes me uncomfortable.

“I must say, Luna, I kind of miss your military outfit. This dress covers too much.”

I expectmy husband to react to this frivolous comment, but he ignores it. I try to ignore it, too.

“Hey, you,” Rogue Prince shouts at someone behind me. “Take these to my room.”

“Yes, Alpha,” some servant takes my lemons, and I start to feel so out of place without them. Like they were my last anchor to the safe world.

“So, what’s your military outfit, then?” Rogue Prince asks me.

Seriously?

“Everyone wears sweatpants and a loose top. So we can shift quickly. Can we go now? Alpha?”

Rogue Prince ignores my pleading, and Beta chuckles at my answer. It’s not over. Great.

“You omitted that the loose top of yours is a crop top. And it’s thin. So thin that I could see the shape of your hard nipples.”

I swear to Goddess, one more word from that fucker, and I will borrow my husband’s sword and cut his balls off. It does lay conveniently close between us…

“I’m sorry I own nipples,” I fail at hiding my irritation.

“What’s a crop top?” asks the prince.

Oh, Goddess, they will ruin crop tops for me, I feel it in my bones. I like them. My stomach is not completely flat since I’m not a skinny teenager anymore, but it is toned, and my waist is lean. I just always liked how I felt showing them off.

“It’s a top that is, well, cropped,” I answer, annoyed at the whole situation and the crowd of warriors that starts to circle us less and less subtly.

It makes me anxious. I’ve heard too many bad stories about these guys, and my husband doesn’t seem too eager to defend my honor.

Oh, I forgot, I don’t have any honor left after what he did to me yesterday.

“It’s cut off around thewaist so you can see her bare waist and stomach.” Beta adds and stands up to reach me over the table. “You have a thin little waist, don’t you, little girl?”

I notice a small knife in his hand when It’s already too late. He cuts the front of my dress, and I jump back, knocking over my chair, only to be held down by some strong guys. The officers, I realize by the subtle alpha-blood smell that only someone high-ranked would still have—even without holding the Alpha title.

Rogue Prince stands up with his sword and looks even more bored than before.

“Don’t kill her, guys,” he says and leaves the dining hall like someone didn’t just try to expose his wife's naked body.

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