The Alpha Prince's Rejcted Mate

CHAPTER TWO

JAX

My gaze lingers on the heavy oak doorway where Aubrey just left, a cold smile playing on my lips as the echo of her footsteps fades down the corridor. I return to my seat behind my desk, the leather chair creaking beneath me, and Avery takes her place back on my lap, the silk of her dress rustling as she pushes it up until her bare core meets my d**k. Sly witch. I smirk at her boldness, the familiar heat of her body igniting my own.

Her delicate fingers thread through my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp. "The poor girl adores you, worships you because she believes you're her savior," she says, her meek voice filling the sunlit office as she slowly grinds her waist against my hardening length. Every movement sends sparks of pleasure through me, my d**k pulsing in response.

"Aren't I?" I ask, sliding my hands beneath the bunched fabric of her dress, savoring the smooth warmth of her thighs as I expose them to my hungry gaze.

"You are... but we both know how that was possible," she says with a knowing look in her violet eyes, increasing her pace until pre-c*m dampens my pants. f**k!

"Just because I murdered her whole family doesn't mean I didn't save her that night." My hands grip her waist possessively before sliding to her center, finding that sweet spot that makes her breath hitch.

"Ha ha, true," she throws her head back laughing, golden hair cascading down her back as the sound mingles with her breathy moans. "But don't you worry, she'll find out one day?"

"If I remember correctly, your magic is what's keeping that from happening, or you don't trust your own self?" I pause my fingers mid-motion inside her velvet heat, and her body trembles with need. I smirk, power rushing through me at how easily I can control the witch.

"Of course, I believe in my magic, but even they have loopholes,"

"Don't worry, nothing will happen, and even if they do, she won't be able to do s**t because it would probably be too late." I continue my fingers' movement at her center as the memories of what led me to this path flood my mind, each calculated step that brought me here playing out like a perfectly executed dance.

Three years ago

"One... two... three..."

I squeeze deeper into the curtains, trying not to giggle. The heavy velvet tickles my nose, and I can smell Mummy's lavender scent on the fabric from all the times we've played this game. She should have found me by now – she always pretends not to see my feet peeking out. But the footsteps echoing through our chambers aren't hers. They're sharp and decisive, like the click-click-click of Queen Grace's jeweled shoes on marble.

I peer through a gap in the curtains, my heart fluttering like a trapped bird. Mummy stands by the frost-covered window, her spine rigid as a sword. Queen Grace holds a crystal wine glass, firelight dancing off them like drops of blood. Her smile reminds me of the venomous snake I once saw in the castle garden right before it struck.

"I hear you've been rather curious about my past," Queen Grace says, the wine in her glass swirling like dark poison."Asking all sorts of questions about my old pack... about what kind of magic my dear friend practiced."

Mummy swallows hard, her throat bobbing, but she straightens her shoulders like she does when teaching me to be brave. I don't know what you mean."

"No?" Queen Grace's smile sharpens. "Then perhaps you can explain why your precious Helen took such an... unexpected leave. Shall I have her screams convince you to be honest?"

A gasp tears from Mummy's throat at the news of Helen, her trusted omega maid. "Leave her out of this. She's innocent."

"But you're not, are you?" Queen Grace's voice turns to ice. "Poking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"The king has a right to know the truth," Mummy's voice shakes with fury. "That you used dark magic to block our mate bond. That you've been deceiving him all these years, making him believe he's yours when he was meant to be mine."

My small hands press against my mouth, stifling my own shock. Mummy is the daddy’s true mate, not Queen Grace?

Queen Grace throws her head back, her laughter like shattering ice in the winter air. "My, my. Such accusations." All warmth drains from her face as she thrusts the wine glass forward. "Drink."

Mummy knocks the glass away. It shatters, dark liquid spreading across the floor like spilled ink. "Never. I'm going to the king. He'll know everything - what you've done, what you are." She rushes for the door, but two of Queen Grace's personal guards block her path.

"Did you really think I came unprepared?" Queen Grace seizes a fistful of Mummy's beautiful dark hair, forcing her to the wine-soaked floor.

"You won't make me drink your poison, Grace," Mummy spits the name like a curse.

"Using my name now?" Queen Grace kneels, bringing her lips to Mummy's ear. My ears strain to hear, but the words are lost to me as my werewolf abilities are still developing at the age of 10.

"Don't touch him!" Mom yells, rushing to her feet, but the guards force her back with brutal efficiency. Mom turns toward where I hide, and our eyes meet through the gap in the curtains. They speak to my soul to rush over to help her as something bad is about to happen - her usually warm brown eyes now filled with a terror I've never seen before. My small legs obey my desperate need to reach her, but one word through our bond freezes me in place.

"No, stay back, baby," she says through our mind link, her mental voice trembling with love and fear.

"I want to help mummy!" I cry through our link, my heart pounding against my ribs.

"I know, baby, but stay back and remember mummy loves you." She turns away from me and back to Queen Grace, her shoulders straightening with final resolve.

"Why should I remember that?" I ask, panic rising in my throat as the words echo strangely in my mind. Suddenly, understanding crashes over me, and my eyes widen in terror. "No!" The scream tears from my throat as she bends down, lapping at the wine pooled on the floor. Seconds later, blood pours from her mouth. Queen Grace leaves with her guards, satisfaction rolling off her in waves.

I burst from behind the curtains, catching Mummy's head in my small arms as she collapses. "Found you, baby," she chokes out, more blood staining her chest.

"Mummy, please! You're bleeding so much!" Tears blur my vision. "Help! Somebody help us!"

"Listen to me, my sweet baby," she whispers, blood staining her lips. "No one's coming... but remember... remember how much Mummy loves you. Always..."

Her eyes drift closed, her hand falling limp against my cheek. Something inside me breaks.

"No!" I shake her cooling body, but she doesn't respond. I stay there until dawn breaks, crying for her to return, begging for help that never comes. When morning finally arrives, my tears have dried, replaced by a hatred for Queen Grace that burns in my bones like eternal fire.

"Do you recall it's because of what happened to your mom you got to know me?" Avery's voice pulls me from the blood-soaked memory, her fingers threading through my hair with practiced intimacy.

I nod, the memories shifting to more recent machinations. Consumed by my desire to seize the crown from Knox and expose my stepmother's crimes, I had sought a powerful alliance with Avery. When I asked her the most effective way to destroy Knox, her answer had been simple yet brilliant: his true mate would be his greatest weakness. Upon knowing this, I'd asked her to peer into the future with her dark magic to reveal who that mate would be. When her vision showed Aubrey, everything fell into place like pieces on a chess board.

The rest had fallen into place like pieces on a chess board. Avery's dark magic revealed Aubrey as Knox's destined mate, and I'd orchestrated everything with surgical precision - the murder of her family staged as a common robbery, positioning myself as her savior, molding her broken pieces into a weapon of my own design. The delicious irony of using Knox's own mate as the instrument of his destruction still brings a smile to my lips.

How perfectly it had worked. Aubrey's trust in me runs bone-deep, her devotion absolute. She probably whispers prayers of gratitude to her "savior" each night, never suspecting I'm the architect of her nightmares. Her eagerness to please her desperate need for approval - they're all just strings I've carefully knotted around her heart, ready to pull when the moment is right.

"Do you truly feel nothing for Aubrey after all these years of mentoring her?" Avery asks, her violet eyes searching mine as if trying to peer into my soul.

"Everything is proceeding as planned," I reply, watching the candlelight dance across her face. "Aubrey will soon be positioned close to Prince Knox, the first step in dismantling everything Queen Grace holds dear. My personal feelings are irrelevant; Aubrey will play her part perfectly, never knowing the truth until it's too late."

Avery's lips part, another question forming, but I've had enough of her probing curiosity. In one fluid motion, I seize a fistful of her hair, yanking her close until our breaths mingle. "You're forgetting yourself, Avery," I murmur, letting danger seep into every syllable. My words ghost across her skin, and I feel the shiver that runs through her. "Some curiosities are better left... unexplored."

Before she can voice another prying question, I capture her lips with mine, hard and demanding, silencing her curiosity. Her initial resistance is brief - a flutter of defiance before surrender. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as I pull her closer, the ever-present tension between us finally igniting. I lift her with ease, her legs wrapping around my waist as I move us through my dimly lit office, each step driven by raw need. My hands map the curve of her spine, her body melding against mine as if crafted for this purpose.

We collide with the stone wall, our breaths ragged and mingling in the cool air. Her hands explore freely, leaving trails of fire in their wake. A soft sound escapes her parted lips, the vulnerability in it driving me further. In one fluid motion, I lower her onto the leather couch, pausing only for a heartbeat to meet her gaze. Her eyes are wide, stripped of their usual calculation, revealing something deeper - a fierce anticipation that mirrors my own hunger.

My hands trace a deliberate path down her arms, over her sides, memorizing every curve, every shiver of skin warming beneath my touch. Her breath catches as I lean in, my lips grazing the delicate line of her collarbone before venturing lower, savoring each small reaction. Her hands find purchase on my back, pulling me closer as if seeking anchor in my weight, my presence. Her touch feeds the flames between us, unspoken power dynamics simmering just beneath the surface.

I lift her face to mine, claiming her mouth in a deep kiss, my hand cradling the nape of her neck. Our movements slow, becoming almost gentle, each caress more deliberate. She sighs against my lips, fingers tangling in my hair, and I feel her surrender to this - the intensity, the rawness, the magnetic pull between predator and prey.

There's a pause, a single heartbeat where time seems suspended, before we crash together again, each sensation heightened, every touch electric. I let myself sink into her warmth, into this connection that feels as inevitable as it is dangerous.

The chamber falls silent save for our mingled breaths, our hearts pounding in a rhythm as old as time itself.