Page 8 of Rogue Alpha Prince

I take a big breath at the exit, trying to tell myself I’m all ready and prepared to leave with the Rogues. What I see when I go into the warm summer evening outside our royal mansion is not what I was getting ready for.

I mean… I know my dad spread the rumor about some nerdy medieval convention nearby, but I thought it was just a precaution for the large quantity and rugged appearance of Rogues. Turns out Rogue Alpha Prince wasn’t joking about the horse riding. He really meant actual horses!

Here I thought the outdated, spoiled, white rich kid treatment I used to get, would never come in handy. Of course, I know horse riding.

They have one carriage, but it is small and clearly occupied by all the luggage my maids packed for me.

“Why can’t I just take my car?” I ask my dad quietly while smiling politely at everyone else, wondering how I’m supposed to be comfortable on the horse with that ridiculous princess dress I was made to wear today. Their lands are up northeast, many,manyhours from here.

He sighs.

“I don’t think they have the infrastructure for that, or any gas stations. Or mechanics, for that matter,” he answers even more quietly than me.

“Remind me why I was chosen as a tribute?” I ask with my teeth clenched, the fake smile still holding, but I know the answer.

Maybe I am his favorite daughter, first child, and more-than-possible heir to the throne, but I’m also the only girl over eighteen years old. It wasn’t a choice. It’s a sacrifice.

“Come,” my true mate, future husband, Alpha Prince of the Rogues, tells me impatiently—completely ignoring my father, the Alpha King of all Alphas.

“Your Majesty,” I nod at my father to make up for it and go after the prick, trying not to think about the family I’m leaving behind.

Not to be overdramatic but who knows if I’ll ever see them again?

What I will see from now on, though, is the perfectly sculpted ass in the black leather pants in front of me. Where is his fur cape? Goddess, what did I do for this torture? How can I do what I must to survive and help my Kingdom when I have all these naughty thoughts about the man I hate?

I can’t even rebuke it for our mate bond. No. It is all me. I would be drooling over him anyway because he simply is that good-looking. Shit.

“Where’s my horse, Your Highness?” I ask when I realize he leads me to the only unoccupied animal in the field, clearly dressed for the prince.

It’s irritating that I feel like the second I forget to call him His Highness, he will hit me, or worse, but he never calls me ‘Your Highness’ when I have the same royal position as he has.

“You don’t need it,” he says and grabs his fur cape from some rogue, who quickly scatters away.

“What do you mean, Your Highness? Why did you ask me if I can ride then?” I can’t help myself and lower my head whenever I speak to him.

He ignores me, though, and just jumps on his horse like it is the easiest thing to do. Maybe it is when you are as tall as him.

I could swear he iswayover six feet. Six-seven maybe?

“Come on,” he leans over with his hand stretched to me, like I am some damsel in distress.

Does he want to intimidate me, so I’ll be good for him? Of course, I’ll be good for him, he’s a fucking Rogue Prince!

“I want my own,” I say without thinking, because of the growing anger that consumes my working brain cells. Shit, I should be more compliant—

He snarls at me like the animal he is and catches my arm painfully, jerking me up to put me sideways in front of him.

“That was the last time you didn’t show me respect, little wolf girl.”

So, the degrading nickname his father gave me stuck. Cool, cool.

“Can I at least sit in a less derogatory way, like behind you, Your Highness?” I ask with a polite tone and proper title, because I think that’s what he meant about being disrespectful, but I don’t lower my head this time. No. I keep it high to look into his cold, navy-blue eyes.

I can feel the vibration of the primal growl he gives me.

“You had your chance,” he says, suddenly jerking me again, this time holding my thigh.

He is moving me swiftly so I straddle his hips, our fronts almost touching. I try to break away from him—to not let him treat me like some doll—but it’s all in vain. He’s too strong and too big of a prick. He just pulls me back to him.

---