Page 34 of Rogue Alpha Prince

“No, you can go.” He winks at her.

My wolf growls inside, but I’m too surprised by the random sitting that is going on here to act on my jealousy.

My father would never let anyone without a title sit so close to us. Let alone a whore. Or, in our kingdom’s case, consensual sex worker. Werewolf packs always work best with their natural hierarchy.

“So, how much do you pay them?” I try to sound casual.

“The whores? Nothing. They can live here how they want,” he says, shrugging, and he leans back on his chair.

I look at him dumbfounded, wondering if he’s just messing with me, until something lands with a thud on the table before me.

A bag full of lemons.

I lift my eyes from the lemons and see the Rogue King for the first time since our wedding. Goddess, he is intimidating, and I wish it was a lie that I am scared of him.

He casually sits in the chair in front of me, on his son’s left, but he’s not fooling anyone. He reeks of power.

“Your Majesty,” I bow my head.

“You’ve got a package from your father,” he points his chin at the lemons, and I can’t stop the smile.

I want to promise Rogue Prince that I’ll make some dessert for him since he loves lemons, but when I look at him with excitement, the sentence dies on my lips before it can come out.

He looks at the lemons with so much hatred I’m afraid they’ll catch fire.

Oh, my Goddess! He thinks it’s some kind of game on my father's side, lemons representing the memory of my true mate.

“I love lemons!” I say to show him they are just a gift for me, because they truly are. I have always loved them, but he growls so loud that even the King looks at him weirdly.

“Anyway,” Rogue King looks back at me, “He expects us at some ball in his summer residency near the neutral territory. In a week.”

“Oh, that would be my brother's twentieth birthday, your Majesty. And his house, technically. It will be huge. And lavish.”

“Great. You’ll go,” he waves his finger between me and his son.

That brings Rogue Prince's attention back from the lemons.

“Royal Ball? Kill me now.”

“You’ll go,” repeats the King, and then focuses on me again. “I can’t wait for all your pups to be big enough to fight each other until the strongest remains. All the bets after each birth, so exciting!”

I look at him blankly.

What?

Is there a way to say ‘fuck you’ in a respectful king-friendly way?

“With today’s access to various contraceptive methods, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait quite some time, your Majesty,” I say finally, the only thing that comes to my mind.

You sick fucker.

Rogue King lifts his brows at his son.

“It’s her body,” Rogue Prince shrugs his shoulders, looking at me with an amused smile. Glad one of us enjoys this fucked-up conversation.

King looks at me again, clearly not happy about my suggestion. I could swear he starts to look exactly like Rogue Prince before using his sword. But then he smiles again, and it scares me even more.

“I heard you finally pledged your loyalty to my son and no longer hold power over anyone relevant here.”

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