Page 74 of Rogue Alpha Prince

“Not in bed…”

“Right, it was on the bed,” he says, looking amused at my now-flustered face.

“Technically, it was all over the room—” I bite my tongue, realizing I walked into that trap all by myself.

“What? We are all werewolves here, very sexual creatures,” he continues with a shrug, clearly having fun embarrassing me before my parents.

I burst into nervous laughter and put my free hand on Cain’s bare peck.

“Ca—, Your Highness, stop. Please.”

Goddess, I almost called him by his name. If looks could kill, I would be a dead woman by now,—I try not to be bothered by it until I really have to.

“Okay, for real, Ash, what did you do with the lemons?” My mom asks.

Why does it sound like she hopes to get some kinky tips?

“We were throwing them in the air and cutting them in half with my Rogue Alpha Prince’s sword.” It’s probably too late to save myself by using his whole title like he wanted, but a girl can hope, right?

My mom chuckles, but it doesn’t distract me from my dad’s weird tick at the sound of that bloody sword. It took so many lives of his loyal subjects, including my own warriors. Is he surprised I said we both used it? And for fun, too.

I notice my father’s beta looks lower with narrowed eyes, and I realize I still hold my left hand on Cain, and he is holding my right one in his. That’s probably too intimate for two enemies after just a week of knowing each other, I suddenly feel like a fucking traitor.

“Let’s go to the man of the hour,” I propose with a polite smile, and Cain nods at my parents before turning me around.

We have a good half of the ballroom to get to the group of very young people at the bar section, and he takes advantage of not being in anyone’s whisper-hearing distance. Not with this loud pop music, anyway.

“One more slip-up and I’ll draw blood from your tongue,” he says, biting playfully at my earlobe. I shudder under his tongue’s touch, and it’s nothing to do with pleasure.

I’m scared knowing Cain can actually do that. I vividly imagine my tongue getting cut, and I shudder again. Judging by his subtle smirk, it’s precisely the reaction he wanted.

Gregory gets off his bar stool and comes to meet us halfway. He greets Cain first, as if they are good friends, and it makes me wonder how many of these e-meetings they had been having before yesterday.

Why don’t I get to contact my family, other than by the messages sent through the creepy Rogue King?

“Why does Ella look like a fucking ghost right now?” Greg asks, looking behind me, just after we had wished him a happy birthday.

I look over my shoulder, and there she is, all pale and terrified—highly contrasting with the group of talking and laughing people that surround her. It’s very typical for Gregory to spend time with my cousins, and Ella to spend it with the rest of my siblings. They always switched like that.

Still, Greg is my favorite sibling, and on some level, I’m even closer to him than her. Always was, growing up together with not even a year in our age difference.

“Oh, I let her think my Rogue Alpha Prince is just a bodyguard, while she ate him with her horny eyes.”

Greg bursts into laughter. “Good one! Your Highness, do we all have to call you our Rogue Alpha Prince, too?” he asks Cain with a playful wink.

“I’m not your Alpha, so just Rogue Prince or Your Highness is fine,” Cain doesn’t go easy on Greg either, but my brother doesn’t seem to be bothered by it in the slightest.

If anyone here thinks they can be friends with Ruthless Rogue Prince, it is for sure my brother Greg. He likes everyone and is the sole reason why I used to be so confident of inheriting my father’s Alpha King throne over him.

Don’t get me wrong, he would be a good King. Will be. Just not as great as I would.

“Do you want to come to sit with—? Asher, I think you need to go talk to Ella before she pees herself at my party,” Greg says, moving his eyes to our cousin again.

I look at Cain for permission, he nods.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of your Rogue Alpha Prince. Or he’ll kill us or something,” Greg snickers at me, at least not pointing out the humiliation of having to ask for permission for everything, then turns to Cain, “Right, your Highness?”

I never thought I would be so unnerved by parting ways with my sick prick of a husband, but I guess I’m more concerned with my family’s life than my own.