Page 51 of Wicked Prince of Carnage
Sterling speared her food as if she were stabbing Winter instead. She chewed slowly, anger rolling off her in waves, and watched the crowd right back. Her view was limited by the table, of course, but sitting on her heels like she was, she could still take in parts of the crowd.
“Are you looking forward to your ceremony?” the king asked.
Winter pierced a piece of venison with his fork and slowly dragged it through the juices. “Why would I look forward to spending the rest of my life chained to Red Riding Hood?”
His father laughed, low and unamused. “Use her as a toy and get a mistress if you want a wolf. The rest of the court doesn’t need to know the truth of the marriage behind closed doors.”
“Why not just keep her as a toy, then?” he drawled.
“I told you—to bridge a gap between humans and wolves.” The king scoffed. “You’ve fucked enough human whores at the brothel, so I was under the impression you preferred them.”
Winter cast an amused glance down at Sterling, who peeked up at him with a hard, judgmental look. “Supply and demand,” he drawled. Wolves didn’t sell their bodies for money—they fucked each other for entertainment or not at all. “I like knowing I’ll get off without pretending to be interested in someone.”
Sterling dropped her fork. It bounced off the plate onto the floor beside his boot. She released a defeated sigh, and his chest tightened. Was she thinking about the night before when they’d brought one another to orgasm? How she’d glided up and down his cock until she came, and then he’d ended it before he found his own second release. His jaw clenched, hoping that was where her mind was and that she wasn’t focused on all the harlots he’d visited.
Winter shifted in his seat and ate the meat off his fork. He positioned himself so he could pass the utensil to Sterlingwithout his father seeing. When she took it, he grazed the back of his fingers across her cheek before resting his elbows on the table. It was the only small kindness he could offer, a way to let her know that none of this was real. “You’re saddling me with a human who killed my closest packmates. She doesn’t even know how to properly suck a cock.”
“You’ll just have to teach her, won’t you? Now,” the king continued. “Tonight isn’t just about your mating. I’ve got a present for you that I hope will start to mend the rift between us.”
Winter tensed. There was no mending anything between them. His father had made it clear how little he respected the prince and he’d never shown him an ounce of affection through the years. What was the point of fixing things between them when Winter was simply waiting for the bastard to die?
“I don’t need a gift,” Winter told him.
“Nonsense.” The king signaled to someone near the door.
Winter pushed his plate away and placed his elbows on the table, ready for the worst to occur. He didn’t dare look at Sterling. She would either be horrified or intrigued, maybe both. But whatever this …surprisewas, it was bound to be a tragedy.
Talia strode into the room wearing a tight black dress with golden studs running down the fabric of her arms. She was all smiles and confidence despite his previous rejection of their mating, but Winter still caught a glimpse of true emotions dancing in her gaze. Confusion. Hope. He wasn’t sure what the king had told Talia when he’d invited her to this dinner, but he sensed it was bitter lies.
“Your Majesty,” she greeted, curtsying. “Prince Winter.” Her eyes flickered to Sterling where her head lifted slightly higher than a moment ago, but she said nothing to acknowledge the human.
“Talia,” the king said, his voice loud and commanding. “A pleasure you joined us.”
“Of course. I would never decline an invitation from you.” She beamed.
What had she been promised? Another chance at Winter? His father wouldn’t possibly marry her himself and invite that kind of scandal.
“No request too high?” the king prodded.
Her lips parted on a breath, but she hesitated before answering, “No.”
He stood, gave Winter’s shoulder a squeeze, and rounded the table with sure steps. When he reached Talia’s side, he brushed her hair over her shoulders to hang down her back, then caressed her collarbone. “Wish your former mate good luck on his mating ceremony.”
Talia winced before peering at Winter and making a subtle shift so the king was no longer touching her. “I wish you all the best in your future.”
Winter simply flicked his hand in her direction as if her words meant nothing. Theydidmean nothing. Rejected mates usually did their best to avoid each other, so why was his father—
Blood sprayed across Winter’s face before he had a chance to register what had happened. A few screams rang through the room, one of them from right beside him, but Winter’s mind went numb as the hot liquid trailed down his cheeks.
His father yanked his claws from Talia’s torn throat. Her body collapsed at the king’s feet, her lifeless eyes staring at the wall, blood seeping around her. Winter’s chest ached, dull and faint, at the loss of a fated mate, even one he’d loathed, would never have forgiven. She still hadn’t deserved death at his father’s hand when the king had been the one to lure her in first.
The cruel, yet proud, smile on his father’s face was what held the prince in place. Winter’s pulse sped as he scrambled to maskhis emotions in the way he’d taught himself as a child. It wasn’t until Sterling’s soft touch grazed his knee that he was able to move again.
“That was dramatic,” Winter said in a bored voice. He wiped the blood gliding down the bridge of his nose and flicked it away. “You could’ve killed her without the mess. Now we’ll have to wait until someone cleans this up before I can fuck my mate.”
The king licked the blood from his claws and held Winter’s stare. “This allows us to move on. Talia was nothing but a forgotten fuck, someone who momentarily sated my appetite.”
Winter avoided tightening his jaw and instead arched a brow. “On the night before our mating ceremony.”
