The Rejected Wolf Princess

The Crescent Highway

Evie’s POV

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter to Ty as we start the trek to Castle Gibbous for my dinner with Tristan. “It’s not even that far.”

I’m referring to the horde of wolves “escorting” me to Gibbous Valley—twenty in total, forming a sort of diamond shape around me and Ty as we ride on horseback in the middle. My father has been insisting on this degree of protection anytime I travel ever since the vampire attack when I was nine.

It’s overkill, if you ask me. Ty could fight off a hundred vamps all by himself.

“It’s because of the stretch of the path that tracks away from the Crescent Highway,” Ty explains with a shrug. “Less Crescent wolves patrolling Gibbous territory.”

I suppose that makes sense. The Crescent Highway—a cross-shaped highway that runs north-south and east-west through Meridian, with Crescent City as its center-point—falls under the jurisdiction of the Crescent Moon Pack, while the Gibbous Valley is under Gibbous jurisdiction. Still, given that the entire kingdom is under jurisdiction of my father the king, you wouldn’t think it was much of a concern.

“The Gibbouses are our closest allies,” I remind Ty. “Isn’t it sort of an insult to them to send me so well-protected?”

Ty gives a rather obvious snort at that. “They’re not your closest allies; they’re your richest allies. And there’s no insult in protecting the princess. If anything, the insult is sending a traitor as her companion.”

I struggle to process everything he’s just said. The Gibbouses are certainly known for their insurmountable wealth, but surely that isn’t why we’re so close with them. My father cares more about justice and peace than money. As for Ty being my companion…

“Bodyguard,” I correct. “Not companion.”

He looks annoyed. “Right. Bodyguard.”

A pang of guilt hits me, as it often does when the world gangs up on Ty for his parentage—something he never had any say in. He might be a nuisance, but he doesn’t deserve quite as much loathing as the kingdom gives him. “They won’t take your appearance as an insult,” I tell him. “Tristan knows I wouldn’t go anywhere without you.”

It's hard to read what he makes of that. If I’m not mistaken, I see his features both harden and soften simultaneously.

Sensing that the conversation has ended, I turn my attention toward Odin, my mount. Odin is my pride and joy—the biggest, strongest, and most loyal horse in the kingdom, and probably in the world. He was named after the god of war and death by Brooks, the master of horse at the Crescent Castle, shortly after Brooks captured him in the Umbra Badlands. He was a fierce, wild, uncontrollable beast, and Brooks nearly put him down. Just before he injected the needle, though, I returned to the stables with Ty after the incident with the vampires. I sprinted over to the great beast, something inside of me screaming at me to save him, and stopped Brooks.

“He’s dangerous, Princess,” Brooks told me. “There’s no place for him here.”

“He isn’t dangerous,” I told him. “Look.”

I reached up a hand to stroke the great beast’s head, and he allowed it. In that moment—skin grazing against fur; red eyes meeting black—we formed a connection. Odin decided that I was his, and I decided that he was mine. To this day, I’m the only one he tolerates.

“I still can’t believe he’s so good with you,” Ty says, following my gaze toward the great beast. “What an eighteen hand, hundred-fifty-stone stallion ever saw in a nine-year-old wolf princess is beyond me.”

I smirk, despite the fact that Ty probably meant it as an insult. I rub Odin’s neck affectionately. “He saw that I needed him.”

A small smile teases at the corner of Ty’s lips, but it doesn’t quite form.

Ty doesn’t smile much.

We spend the rest of the two-hour journey in a companionable silence, Ty teasing me occasionally and me firing weak insults back at him. It’s just as easy for me to talk to Ty as it is for me to not talk to him; we’ve known each other so long and spent so much of our time together, it all just feels… easy.

Frustrating at times, but easy.

Finally, we reach Castle Gibbous. I much prefer my own castle to this one—think Cinderella’s Castle versus Dracula’s—but that’s fine, since Tristan will be moving to mine when we get married.

Tristan, his two younger brothers, and his parents are both waiting for us outside the grand entrance, surrounded by a handful of guards. Tristan is dressed handsomely, in a silken, white shirt beneath a coat of red velvet, a pair of sharp, black trousers, and tall, leather boots. He looks every bit the prince, even though technically he isn’t one.

“Princess,” he greets with that trademark deep bow that I’ve come to look forward to. “You must be exhausted. We expected you to come via carriage.”

I get that a lot. It’s typically considered unladylike for a woman to ride atop a horse rather than in a carriage. I am riding sidesaddle, of course—I prefer not to, but the gown that was made special for tonight doesn’t exactly lend itself to the regular manner of riding—but even then, I can tell Tristan is a bit unsettled.

I care what he thinks, but not enough to regret coming on horseback. I have very few talents in life, but riding is something I’m very good at—and something I love.

“Riding is one of Evie’s favorite activities,” Ty explains to Tristan with a bit of a smirk. “She’ll never show up anywhere in a carriage if she can help it.”

“That’s Princess Everleigh to you, Red,” Tristan growls at him. His glare morphs back to a smile as he turns his attention toward me and says, “Of course I recalled your passion for riding; it’s simply an arduous journey, is all. May I help you down?”

Despite the enormity of Odin’s size, I don’t require any assistance dismounting. Still, I smile sweetly and accept Tristan's help out of politeness—and, of course, because I like the idea of being held by him, if only for an instant.

It isn’t an altogether graceful dismount—I probably would have done better without his help—but it is still nice to feel his hands on my waist as he eases me down, even if we both stumble a bit on the landing.

“Sorry,” he says with a nervous chuckle once we right ourselves. My hands are still on his chest, and his are still on my waist. It gives me a strange sensation that for some reason reminds me of my conversation with Marisa last week. “Quite the drop, isn’t it?”

“Oh—yes.” I remove my hands from Tristan's chest to give Odin a pat, then hand Odin's reins off to one of the stable Omegas who approaches. “Bit bigger than most horses, I guess.”

I’m pretty sure I catch Ty rolling his eyes as he dismounts his own courser, but it’s hard to say with certainty at this distance.

“Will you be wishing to dine straight away, Princess?” Tristan’s mother asks me. “We can let you get settled into your room for the night first, if you prefer.”

I tried to make the argument to my parents that I should return to the Crescent Castle after dinner tonight, but they refused. Four hours of commuting in one night is too much for a princess, apparently, and my refusal to accept the offer of stay at Castle Gibbous would have been seen as a slight.

It’s not that I don’t want to spend more time with Tristan and his family. It’s just that this castle gives me the creeps.

Which is why I have no interest in visiting my room at the moment.

“Straight to dinner would be great, Lady Victoria,” I tell her sweetly. “I’ve worked up quite the appetite.”