The Royal Luna Prophecy

Chapter 9: Conflict

Max cursed himself for several minutes straight, until he could put his head in the right place. Why did he have to be so correct at moments like this? He should not care if she was drunk, he should simply have accepted her kiss willingly. Only he knew how much he was waiting for it, craving it.

“F*ck!" he murmured, rubbing his hands all over his face and hair.

She got so close that he could almost feel her taste. Her scent was like a drug to him, so addicting that it actually hurt when he pulled her away from him. His body was so frustrated, he was so angry at himself that he could barely move for a few seconds.

He thought about going after her, grabbing her arms and turning her towards him, claiming her lips as if that was the only moment they would ever have. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

She was drunk, even though not that much anymore, but still, he would never forgive himself if he had kissed her, and she came to him the next day feeling completely embarrassed and regretful. He'd die if she apologized for it. He had his pride and he knew he couldn't take such a thing. He wouldn't be able to bear it.

He was already suffering enough by considering a lifetime marriage with someone that might never reciprocate his feelings in the same intensity. Could he be able to not have Mikki as his wife in every possible way that word represented?

He had to take things as slow as he could, otherwise he could push her away for good before even having the opportunity to get close to her at all.

He had no idea how he'd do it, but he had to be careful with his actions. He couldn't simply give in to his nature and succumb to his primitive desires.

Max wondered for a couple of minutes what he'd do with the rest of his night. He pondered going back inside and continuing to drink with the Auclair brothers, but he didn't think he had the mind to do it right now. He couldn't take Mikki's image out of his brain, and he thought he wouldn't be such a nice company anymore.

With that, he decided to go back to his room, since Ace offered him to spend the night at the palace. He'd have to leave first thing in the morning, since he had some errands to run for the wolves of his pack and he also didn't really feel like facing Mikki so soon.

He was not the type of man to run from anything or anyone; he was an Alpha after all. But there was only so much he could do at the palace, and being caught making out with the princess, even though she was his rightful fiancée, wasn't something he was willing to do.

And he was certain that if he spent a bit more time around her, he wouldn't be able to control himself. Tonight was the hardest he ever had to endure, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to do it again.

Max went to the room that was arranged for him, took a shower and changed into some comfy pants and shirt, and tossed himself in that enormous bed, even bigger than the one he had at his mansion.

He was the Alpha of the Lusine Pack after all, so he couldn't complain about money or luxury. But it was also true that he couldn't compare it with the refinement and sophistication the palace had to offer.

Which made him think about how he'd provide such a life to Mikki after they got married. He thought about this before offering to marry her, but he had other things to be more concerned about first, like the fact that Farkas was also trying to pursue her.

He didn't have much time to think and contemplate about that kind of stuff. But now, looking at all this exquisite furniture, he started to realize that he'd never be able to offer everything that Mikki was so used to.

After a few minutes, or maybe even an hour, Max started to feel uneasy with all of those annoying thoughts. It was hard enough for him to think that Mikki might not be interested in him the way he was interested in her, and to think that, as a man, he wouldn't be able to provide that much for her, made him want to drink again.

He left the room and went towards the kitchen, which he had no idea where it was. He wandered around the palace for a while, taking in every corner, analyzing the paintings on the walls, feeling the scents that lived inside those walls. If he concentrated well enough, would he be able to sense Mikki's scent from miles away, he wondered. Could he find her room just by following that inebriating flowery and sweet aroma?

He decided to follow the scent of food instead and in a blink of an eye, he found himself in the kitchen. There was no one there, but he took the liberty to walk in and open one of the fridges. Thinking again, maybe alcohol wouldn't be a good idea, even though it'd make it easier for him to forget about everything else.

He looked around, trying to find what he wanted since he didn't have anything in mind and wasn't hungry, and decided to grab a bottle of juice.

He poured some inside a glass and put the bottle back into the fridge, and when he was about to take a seat in one of the stools, someone walked in, and it surprised him how he didn't sense it.

Especially since it was 'her'.

Max was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't feel Mikki approaching the room. And she didn't seem to have been expecting him to be there either, since her eyes widened at the moment she saw him there, staring back at her.

She was wearing what he thought was a very open to imagination floor length nightgown, at least for his dirty thoughts. It wasn't transparent, but the white of the silk felt like a blank canvas to his eyes. He couldn't help but stare, and his brain was definitely not keeping the royalty boundaries at all.

“Max?" Her soft voice came into his ears, bringing him back to reality.

“Hm?" he murmured, taking a huge sip from his juice, trying to clear his throat and his thoughts.

“I didn't know you were here. I'll come back later," she said, turning to leave.

“Wait," he uttered. “You don't have to leave. I mean, it's your house, after all. And I was already leaving anyway."

F*ck. Why did she have to be wearing that? His body was actually aching from being that far from her. And the fact that she seemed unaffected by it or even unaware of how he was feeling, made things even harder.

“Okay," she murmured. “You can stay, if you want." Her tone indicated that she was trying to have a truce with him, although he had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Was she still angry at him for pushing her away?

One thing was certain, he hoped she didn't try it again now, otherwise he wouldn't be able to stop himself.

Mikki came towards him and opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water instead. Max watched as she poured and drank some of it, but he didn't say a word. He wasn't sure where she was in terms of being mad at him or not, so he thought it'd be better to let her speak first.

Which she did after a few seconds.

“I'm sorry for the way I behaved earlier," she said, looking at her hands above the kitchen bench. “I don't know what came over me. But I can assure you I don't usually behave like this."

“It's okay, nothing happened," he confessed honestly. “Although I'm curious to know how you normally behave," he joked.

Max was dying to get to know whatever he could about her, understand the way she thought, be familiar with her behaviors, and even learn how to make her not overthink so much.

“It was probably the wine," she shrugged lightly. “I'm not usually that sensitive, you know? I tend to be the peacemaker around here," she confessed.

“You do look like one," he added, smiling. “It's probably what it takes to be the only woman around, am I right?"

Mikki smiled and nodded.

“Men always need the touch of a woman to make things work," Max remarked.

She raised her head, and Max wished she didn't look at him like that. It was like her eyes infatuated him somehow.

“Can I ask you something?" she asked shyly.

Max straightened himself and cleared his throat before answering her.

“Yes, of course. What is it?"

Mikki seemed to consider asking what she wanted, but ended up doing it anyway. Maybe she wasn't what she seemed to be.

“If I weren't drunk…" she started, but stopped herself.

But Max didn't need to hear the rest of it to know what she was trying to say.

“Yes, I would have. And I wouldn't have thought about it twice," he replied anyway, sparing her from completing the sentence.