Page 76 of Rogue Alpha Prince

I stretch my hand to her, and she takes it with relief.

“Can I talk with Ella some more after dinner, Alpha?” she asks so timidly, that it makes me wonder how the hell she ever became an officer, let alone the General.

“Only if you leave me with grown-ups this time,” I say, making her chuckle charmingly—getting us some curious looks from the long dinner table where everyone is sitting down.

“Oh, and I didn’t make her apologize, because it’s not her fault that you are so handsome and that we didn’t tell her. Alpha.”

“Agree.”

There are two empty seats on the right of her father, the Alpha King, and that’s where we settle—me between her and her dad, with her sexy mom exactly opposite from me. I swear they look almost like twins.

I have a feeling you can’t say that about their characters, though. No, if I’m right, my Asher is exactly like her father.

Royal Beta is at the other end of the table. The rest of the chairs are filled with teenagers and twenty-year-olds; one paler than the other, except for Ella, who somehow is black. There is no visible hierarchy other than my sitting, but it is their family affair, so they probably don’t care.

I lean back comfortably in my chair—probably looking as if waiting for some harem of naked girls to feed me, which I wouldn’t mind, by the way; and I observeeverything with a cold, unbothered look. This makes that Ella girl visibly nervous. And not only her, I notice.

I smirk at all of them knowingly, and the stress level of the room goes through the roof. Oh, it will be a fun night, after all.

Some omega servants bring trays of mouthwatering-smelling food, and everyone starts to talk. I take a sip of red wine from my glass.

I almost spit it out, and Asher is laughing lightly at me.

“Juice,” she says apologetically.

“Oh, what do you drink… over there?” Ella is more curious than nervous, apparently.

“Wine. Lots and lots of wine.” Ash answers. “They also spike other alcohol with wolfsbane. Oh, lemon pies!”

She enthusiastically grabs one of the yellow things from the latest tray.

“Well, fermenting fruits is a smart way with such long winters,” Alpha King comments quietly to his Queen.

“My Rogue Alpha Prince, you have to try this,” Ash brings the thing to my mouth, not a care in the world.

I look deep into her eyes, curious if she’ll want to feed it to me in front of her whole family. Me, their biggest enemy. I lean slightly, not breaking hot eye contact, and take a bite straight from her hand.

It is delicious, the perfect combination of sweet and sour. I nod at her and catch her wrist to eat more before she can take it away.

“I knew you’d love it, Alpha,” she says with satisfaction, her gaze lowering to my mouth devouring the dessert in her hand.

When I’m done, she licks her lemony fingers with a small moan and turns back to the table, probably to take one for herself.

Her hand freezes mid-air when she finally notices everyone is staring at our candid moment. That must be weird for them. We have known each otherfor just a little over a week, and she’s already licking her fucking fingers with delight after she fedmefrom those same fingers just seconds ago.

“What?” She asks, either oblivious or pretending to be, so I laugh.

Greg joins me with a couple of other teens. That’s when one of her sisters’ laugh grabs my attention. She looks around fifteen, and has her carbon copy next to her. Identical twins. Both look like a perfect mix of their parents, the King and Queen.

How many kids did they make, and why are they all so close in age?

Anyway, the twins remind me of someone. My baby sister—whose whole life I spent promising to find a way to cancel the morbid rogue tradition of the Heirs Tournament. Promising that we wouldn’t get commanded to fight each other… only to find out I had to kill my dad first. It’s literally impossible without fulfilling some prophecy on an ancient scroll no one seems to have, even years after I had to cut my baby sister's throat.

“Tell us about your wedding. Was it just a court thing or—?” I register Queen’s question, which Asher immediately answers.

“Oh, guys, you have to listen to this!”

But I don’t listen. I just look at her. All her smiles, and sparkling eyes, and dreamy faces while she is recounting what our wedding looked like.

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