The Hybrid Princess and the Vampire Prince

Summer in Paradise

Nick’s POV

I forgot how much I hate Archer Saros.

It’s kind of funny, really, because Archer is a lot like my best mate, Caine. They both found that person they wanted to latch onto—me for Caine; Ren for Archer—and hope that person will elevate their status in the world. 

At least I have the awareness of it, though. I know why Caine is so loyal to me, and I’m okay with it. It’s not like my position in the kingdom is going downhill anytime soon; if that’s why he wants to stick around, fine. I’ll take it.

But Ren? I highly doubt she sees this scumbag for who he is and what he wants. He’s a dog, and she’s letting him, well, do whatever it is dogs do to other dogs.

Not that I think they’re banging, or anything. He’d like to, I’m sure—really, anyone in their right mind would—but she’s too classy for that. There aren’t many compliments I’ll pay Princess Half-Breed, but that’s one of them. Her mother raised her right.

Anyway, after Archer and I drop Ren off at her room, we glare at each other for a few minutes until my mother shows up and shrieks at me to go get dressed for dinner. I begrudgingly agree, despite being perfectly comfortable in what I have on, turning my back on Archer and heading for my room.

I think about Ren as I change clothes, which, to my intense displeasure, ends up giving me a raging hard-on. I’d like to chalk it up to a hate-boner, but I think it’s more than that. I’ve never found a wolf sexually appealing before, and probably never will after her, but I can’t help it with her. You can only bang so many vampires before you get bored of it; they’re just cold, inside and out, and that hard, stony exterior doesn’t offer much comfort or pleasure during or after the act. When I’m near Ren, I can feel her warmth from several feet away, and imagine how soft and tender her skin might be to touch, and…

I groan, heading for the bathroom to take a cold shower.

After I’ve showered, dressed, and headed downstairs again, I regroup with Caine in the entrance hall of the castle. He hasn’t changed, but then, he was already dressed up.

“Say what you will about the Half-Breed Princess,” he mutters to me when we start the walk to the dining hall, “she sure looks fuckable these days, doesn’t she?”

I don’t know why, but my instinct is to hit him for that comment. I don’t, of course; instead, I give an uninterested shrug. “I guess. Not exactly my type.”

“Dog isn’t any vampire’s type,” Caine agrees cheerfully. “Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the meat, though.”

This time, my fist actually clenches. But it unclenches just as quickly.

“You’re gonna have to pop the question sooner or later,” he continues. “Why not do it this summer? Right after she turns eighteen—before that drooling dog that follows her around gets the chance?”

I make a disgusted sound akin to a snort. “Saros? Please. As if she’d have him.”

He raises an eyebrow at this, but I don’t get the chance to cover my tracks before we’ve reached the dining hall.

She’s beaten me, of course. However long the average girl takes to get ready, Ren takes a tenth of that time. I don’t think she owns a hairbrush, and any dresses she’s ever caught in are borrowed from that best friend of hers who my brother Luke always had a crush on.

I scan the room and, sure enough, find Margery Morton seated right next to the guest of honor’s spot. 

Margery’s a pretty thing, too, though not as pretty as Ren. She’s the eldest daughter of Corrin and Westley Morton, though you wouldn’t know it from her behavior. Really, you’d think Ren and Margery were switched at birth; Ren is the wild, unruly tomboy you’d expect from a huntress and a Rogue, and Margery the prim, proper lady you’d expect from a queen and her prince consort. Not particularly fond of tomboys or proper ladies myself, I’ve obviously not fallen for either of them. My poor little brother Luke, though, hasn’t been so lucky.

“Look at her,” Luke whispers to me as I take my seat next to him. “Margery. I think she’s gotten even prettier.”

Her best friend certainly has, I think grimly.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” my father announces from the head of the table opposite Ren, clinking his spoon against his glass. “It is my utmost honor to reintroduce you all to the lovely Princess Serendipity of Meridian, here with us for yet another summer in paradise.”

I try not to gag at that. Summer in paradise? Come on.

He rambles on for another minute or two, and I try to pretend to pay attention, but my gaze keeps inadvertently finding its way back to Ren. Margery has outfitted her in a deep, crimson dress that’s a common color in our parts, and not so much in theirs. It’s hard not to notice her cleavage, which I don’t remember being half as large as it is now. And the way her body forms that perfect hourglass… is it the doing of a corset, or has her body really developed that much since the last time she was here? Something tells me the girl wouldn’t be caught dead in a corset.

She’s seventeen, I remind myself in annoyance as I start feeling my blood collect in places it shouldn’t again. You’re twenty-three. Not to mention, she’s a f*****g wolf.

She’ll be eighteen in less than a month, though.

It shouldn’t matter to me, but it does.