Page 50 of Wicked Prince of Carnage
His grip was too firm, but it was the only way to keep her behavior under control, to keep her alive and at his side insteadof under his father. If the king would fuck his fated mate, he wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to his chosen one.
Fucking bastard.
The prince walked at a brisk pace, desperate to get the dinner over and done with—he knew his father had something planned. But what?
“You could slow down a bit,” she said. The prince didn’t pay her any attention as they reached the banquet hall doors. Two guards flung them open so Winter could pass inside without pausing. Each table was filled, some of the females perched on the laps of males. Pinecone garlands hung from chandeliers made of deer antlers dipped in gold, and the air was hot and thick.
A hush fell over the room. Normally, no one stopped mid-sentence when the prince arrived, and even now their silence wasn’t about him. It was Sterling that drew their attention.
This was the first time Red Riding Hood was making an appearance as their future princess and not the pack’s most wanted criminal. Time and energy were necessary for Winter to keep her alive with the assassination attempts that would surely follow their mating. It would be even harder if the pack thought their prince was treating her too well before they came to accept her.
“Father,” Winter greeted as he made his way to the royal table at the front of the room that rested on a raised platform. He pulled out his chair and lowered himself into it without releasing Sterling’s arm.
“Winter,” the king replied, his gaze trained on Sterling’s chest. “Aren’t you going to hold a chair out for your bride-to-be?”
“And why would I ever do that?” Winter pulled down on her arm so that she knelt at his feet. “Pets don’t sit at the table like civilized beings.”
“Pet?” she hissed.
Winter relaxed into his seat, released his grip on her, and draped his arm over the back of it to stare down at her, reminding her not to defy him. Sterling would sit with them, as a royal,afterthe mating ceremony, but until then, she would continue to sit at his feet.
“You.” He motioned to one of the wolves pouring wine into glasses at the table where General Rawling, Caston, and four other pack members sat. “Give her the bottle.”
The servant approached them and held out the bottle of wine to Sterling.
Winter glared down at Sterling as though she were nothing but spoiled food. “You will pour every pack member’s drink before the main course is served.”
Sterling narrowed her eyes at Winter, then clasped the bottle from the man. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table, right in Sterling’s place setting. The plate clinked against the silverware and spilled her glass of water.
Sterling climbed to her feet with slow, deliberate movements. “My Prince,” she said with false sweetness. “Would you like me to fill your glass?”
Winter dangled the glass between his fingers and held it out to her while turning toward his father while she poured. He ignored the faces of everyone to feign ignorance of their hostility. “It looks as if the entire pack is here,” he mused.
The king surveyed the room, taking in the dozens of tables filled with wolves around them. “They’re curious,” he said with a chuckle. “And who wouldn’t be?”
Valco lifted his cup and cast his gaze to Sterling as she hovered over him. Her breasts brushed his shoulder, though Winter couldn’t tell if his father orchestrated that.
As Sterling edged away from him, Winter forced himself not to watch as his father leered at her body and instead observedthe servants carrying in massive trays of meat and vegetables. Steaming bowls of gravy followed along with piles of buttered rolls.
“What are you waiting for?” Winter snapped at Sterling when she remained beside his father. “I told you to serve everyone.”
Her nostrils flared, her eyes boring into his before she moved away from their table. She made her way around the room, pouring quickly, giving half glasses, and trading in the empty carafes for full ones until everyone was served.
When she returned, she set the half-full carafe down at the end of the table and reached for her chair. Winter grasped the leg with his boot and drew it away from her.
A line formed between her brows. “You said I could get off the floor if—”
“If you served everyonebeforethe main course. You were still pouring when they brought out the food and…” He smirked at her. “Youwereoff the floor. Now, sit back down at my feet like a good little human.”
Sterling balled her hands into fists as she stared at him, when the king purred, “Come now, son. She’ll be your mate soon.”
“Soon. But not at the moment. AndI’lldecide how she’s treated.”
His father leaned back in his chair and patted his lap. “Come, darling. If he won’t give you a seat, I will.”
Winter clenched and unclenched his jaw. “She deserves no such honor.” The fucker was trying to get a rise out of him, and damn the king—it was working. He grabbed her by the arm and forced her back to her knees. “Get comfortable,” he said without looking at her.
A moment passed before everyone returned to their food and ignored the human’s presence. Or at least pretended to. Winter didn’t miss the occasional glances that came their way or howhis father leaned over his plate with each bite of food so he could peer around Winter to where Sterling sat.
