CHAPTER FOUR
1090 Words
KNOX
I glare at my mate, my mind struggling to accept that she's the one from that fateful night. The conversation with Noah from a few minutes ago echoes in my thoughts a stark reminder of how quickly life can change. Just hours ago, I'd returned from the royal elite warrior camp, completely unaware my world was about to be turned upside down.
A few minutes ago...
The castle gates loom before me, their ancient iron wrought into intricate designs that cast dancing shadows across the cobblestone path. My polished black boots click against the stone with each step, the sound mixing with the gentle morning breeze that carries the scent of home. The late morning sun bathes the courtyard in a golden glow, catching on the elaborate gold embroidery adorning my fitted navy blue military jacket. Each thread had been carefully sewn to denote my royal status, though the jacket now bears the welcome wear of intense training.
I inhale deeply, letting the familiar scents wash over me - the sweet perfume of climbing roses that wind their way up the castle walls, the mouthwatering aroma of fresh bread wafting from the kitchen windows, and the sharp metallic tang from the armory where the clash of steel on steel signals another day of guard training.
"Your Highness!"
The familiar voice cuts through my reverie. I turn to find Noah hurrying toward me, his usual composed appearance notably disheveled. His normally pristine white shirt is half-untucked, scroll papers threatening to spill from his arms, and his dark brown hair looks like he's been running his hands through it all morning. A smile tugs at my lips – some things truly never change.
"Noah," I greet him, genuine warmth coloring my voice as I grasp his outstretched hand. "How many times do we have to go through this? When it's just us, it's Knox."
He adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses with his free hand, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. The morning light catches on the thin silver frames, momentarily obscuring his knowing hazel eyes. "Force of habit. But seriously, welcome home. How bad was the training this time?"
We fall into step together, our footsteps echoing off the castle's stone walls as we make our way inside. I roll my shoulders, still feeling the ache from countless drills. "Let's just say they didn't cut their future king any slack. If anything, they made it harder."
"You look exhausted," Noah observes, genuine concern in his voice. "The training camp's getting more intense each year."
"Nothing I can't handle," I assure him, though my muscles protest with each step. "How have things been here?"
Noah hesitates, and I catch the slight shift in his expression - that all-too-familiar look of concern mixed with exasperation. "Well... speaking of your duties," he begins carefully, "the court's been rather vocal lately about the whole mate situation."
I drag a hand through my dark hair, wishing I'd taken the long way around the castle to avoid this conversation. "Not this again."
"The kingdom needs stability, Knox. You know as well as I do that your continued..." he searches for a diplomatic word, "*singular* status is making the court nervous."
"Since when does having a mate determine whether someone can lead?" I snap, frustration bleeding into my voice. "Those old fools in the court-"
"Those old fools," Noah cuts in, his tone unusually sharp, "are the backbone of this kingdom's political structure. And like it or not, they're going to start parading their daughters in front of you if you don't figure this out soon."
Deep down, I know he's right. The weight of the crown has always come with expectations, and finding a mate is one of the most fundamental. I feel my wolf stir restlessly at the thought of a mate, eager and wanting, but I stubbornly push those instincts aside. My wolf and I rarely disagree, but on this, we couldn't be more opposed.
As we round the corner into the grand hallway, fate decides to prove just how wrong I've been. The scent hits me like a physical blow – vanilla and jasmine intertwined with something uniquely feminine that makes my wolf surge forward with recognition. My hand flies to my chest, trying to calm my suddenly racing heart.
"Knox?" Noah's voice sounds distant as if I'm underwater. "You okay?"
I barely hear him, my enhanced senses zeroing in on the source of that intoxicating scent. The crowded hallway seems to part before me as my eyes lock onto her figure. She stands near the center of the room, her back turned to me, but everything in my being recognizes her as mine. Her dark hair falls in loose waves down her back, the rich color contrasting beautifully with her pale blue gown. The dress hugs her curves in a way that makes my wolf want to growl possessively at any man who dares look her way.
I can't stop the word from falling from my lips like a prayer: "Mate."
I stare at her, wondering where she gets the audacity to be angry after what she did that night. My memory might be fuzzy from the alcohol, but her scent had left an indelible mark. Back then, I hadn't realized she was my mate, dismissing it as another one of her deceptions – something I still can't be entirely sure about. But Liam, my wolf, insists she's my mate regardless.
And that's just the beginning of this clusterfuck. The guard uniform in her hands tells me exactly what I didn't want to know – she's been assigned as my new personal guard. f*****g perfect.
Her cold words to Mom when she demanded I apologize echo in my mind, that same hollow ache blooming in my chest just like the first time she said them. I push the feeling down, even as Mom's look of disappointment and disbelief burns into me. I don't f*****g care.
I'm about to part my lips to reject her – the words right there on my tongue – when Liam releases a fierce growl, fighting against me with everything he has.
"You're doing no f*****g such thing," he snarls inside my head, and I roll my eyes. Of course he's against this – he's not the one who's opposed to the whole mate concept.
"The longer you drag this out, the more painful it's just going to be."
"Don't you f*****g dare," he growls again, and I sigh wearily. This is going to be a long ass day!
- Writer
