I clutched the prince's suit shirt tightly in my fists, crumpling the fabric where I held on. Fear pulsed through me like a second heartbeat, and I realized I was trembling. His arms tightened around me in response, firm and protective — a silent promise that he wouldn't let anyone touch me.
I leaned into his warmth, trying to calm the storm inside me. He growled again, low and dangerous, but I knew it wasn't directed at me. It never had been. The sound rumbled through his chest and against my ear, and for the first time in years, I felt safe.
When I looked up to see who had earned his wrath, my gaze landed on Railey. She stood there trembling with fury, her face twisted with rage. Even as the Lycan Prince's growl filled the air, she didn't back down. Instead, she scoffed — and then she did something so reckless, so unthinkable, the entire room seemed to freeze.
She lunged forward, grabbed a handful of my hair, and yanked hard. Pain seared across my scalp as she ripped me out of the prince's arms and threw me to the floor like trash. I hit the ground hard, my palms scraping against the polished wood.
Railey brushed her hands off on her dress with a look of disgust.
"Now," she sneered, "let's get a trash bag."
The room fell silent. Dozens of eyes darted between her, me, and the prince, waiting. No one dared move. When no one helped her, Railey muttered under her breath about "useless wolves" and turned to get the bag herself.
But she never made it far.
The moment she turned her back on the prince and faced me again, something happened so fast I barely saw it — a flash of movement, a whisper of sound — and then Railey's head rolled clean off her shoulders and landed at my feet with a dull, wet thud.
I stared, frozen. My breath caught in my throat as my vision blurred. Her glassy eyes stared up at me from the floor. A scream tore from my lips before I even realized it. May shrieked too, rushing forward toward her friend's lifeless body. The smell of blood filled the air — thick, metallic, suffocating.
Strong arms pulled me in before I could collapse. I didn't need to look to know who it was. I could feel his scent — wild forest and winter air — wrapping around me. Arrie purred softly inside my mind, comforted by our mate's touch, but fear still knotted in my chest.
The prince turned my head against his chest, shielding my eyes from Railey's body. His hand pressed protectively at the back of my head, keeping me from seeing the horror again.
Then he moved — lifting me effortlessly — and walked out of the hall. I closed my eyes, not wanting to meet the stares that followed us or see the blood staining the floor.
The door closed behind us with a soft click. Only then did I open my eyes. He set me gently on a large bed, his scent clinging to the blankets, and then turned toward the adjoining bathroom. I watched as he began running a bath.
"Your Highness, I—" I started, voice trembling.
"Alaric," he interrupted softly. His tone was calm, yet held a firm edge of authority.
"S-sorry?" I blinked, unsure I'd heard correctly.
"My name," he said, turning slightly to glance back at me. "It's Alaric. You're my mate. Call me Alaric — or Al."
"Alright… Alaric," I said quietly. "What are you doing?" My gaze drifted toward the bathroom, where steam was beginning to rise.
"I'm starting a bath," he said matter-of-factly, clearly misunderstanding what I meant.
"I can see that," I said with a small, nervous laugh. "But… why?"
He turned back to me, his golden eyes calm. "To bathe you and get you ready for bed, of course. And myself as well. I need to wash — especially the blood on my face from that disrespectful girl."
"That was Railey," I murmured. "The Alpha's sister."
"Ah," he said, almost casually. "How unfortunate. Then I won't have to bother explaining much to her family." His tone darkened slightly. "Though I am curious — why did she call you an omega?"
I froze.
He didn't know. No one outside my pack did. Omegas were banned. The title itself was enough to get someone punished — or worse.
"Because that's what I am," I whispered. "The pack's omega. Their punching bag. For as long as I can remember."
Shame burned through me. I expected guilt for revealing my pack's secret — but instead, I only felt the weight of old humiliation. I stared down at my hands in my lap, unable to meet his eyes.
When I finally looked up, Alaric's expression was terrifying — pure, cold fury. The air around him seemed to hum with restrained power. I stood quickly and walked toward him.
"Alaric… the bath will overflow if we don't turn off the tap," I said softly, touching his arm.
His gaze snapped to mine, and the tension melted. His lips curved into a small grin. "We can't have that, can we?"
I shook my head. He reached for my hand — gently, almost reverently — and led me into the bathroom.
He turned off the water and faced me again, his eyes softer now. "Ready to take a bath…?"
"Aurelia," I finished for him, my voice barely above a whisper.
His grin deepened slightly as he repeated it, tasting the sound of my name.
"Aurelia…" he said slowly, as if committing it to memory.
And in that moment, my name on his tongue felt like both a promise and a warning.