The Alpha Prince's Rejcted Mate

CHAPTER SEVEN

The cool night breeze carries the scent of moonflowers and jasmine across the castle grounds, tugging at the loose strands of hair that have escaped my upswept style. I silently thank Queen Grace for taking charge of my preparation for tonight. Her maids had practically scrubbed me raw in the bath, following it with layers of scented oils that matched the vanilla-infused bath water. The scent clings to my skin even now, subtle but unmistakable.

The gown they dressed me in takes my breath away every time I catch my reflection in the crystal glasses dotting the outdoor tables. It's a midnight blue silk that shifts like liquid starlight with every movement, the fabric gathering at my waist before flowing out in ethereal layers perfect for an evening under the open sky. After years of practical clothing since losing my family, wearing something so elegant feels almost forbidden.

"Audrey, you're here!" A familiar voice pulls me from my reverie. I blink to find Queen Grace gliding toward me, resplendent in her own flowing gown. The crowd parts before her like a tide, and suddenly, I feel hundreds of eyes turning in my direction. Gratitude washes over me - if I'd chosen my own outfit, this much attention would have been unbearable.

"Good evening, Your Highness," I begin, lowering my head in a slight bow, but her hand catches my shoulder halfway.

"None of that," she chides warmly. "Why would my future daughter-in-law greet me so formally?" Before I can react, she pulls me into an embrace that forces the air from my lungs. Her scent - roses, and vanilla wrapped in power - envelops me completely. My mind reels at the casual display of affection.

I manage what I hope passes for a genuine smile as we separate. The entire gathering has stopped to stare at us, the music fading to background noise. Forcing down my discomfort at being the center of attention, I straighten my spine and lift my chin. But all my carefully constructed composure shatters at the King's next words.

"Everyone, please welcome my son's mate, Lady Audrey Lancelot, daughter of the late Alpha and Luna Lancelot of the Haven Pack."

Shock runs through me like ice water. The crowd erupts in applause, faces turned toward me with warm smiles and approving nods, but I barely register them. Oh s**t. The information I'd put on my guard application - I'd just filled it out with my real background, not thinking twice about it. Didn't even occur to me to lie since everything checked out for the position. But now, hearing my family's name announced to the entire f*****g court like this, I'm realizing what a stupid, careless mistake that was.

I stand frozen, completely unprepared for this turn of events, my mind scrambling for how to react.

"Welcome!" A distinguished-looking wolf raises his crystal goblet in my direction. I glance down at my empty hands, momentarily panicked, but Queen Grace smoothly intervenes.

"Thank you all. Please help make her feel at home," she says graciously. The wolf - unmistakably a Pack Beta by his bearing - offers me a respectful nod before moving away.

And that's how I spend the first quarter of the night, at least now, with a crystal glass of wine to keep my hands busy. People keep approaching in waves, all smiles and sympathy, welcoming me to court while offering condolences about my family and pack. Each "I'm so sorry for your loss" feels like a punch to the gut.

It's f*****g weird, honestly. Back at Prince Jax's manor, no one gave two shits about my tragic backstory. Nobody wondered how the orphan girl was holding up after losing everyone she loved in a single bloody day. Instead, they turned their noses up at me, whispering about how "unladylike" it was that I preferred learning to fight rather than attending their precious tea parties. The contrast makes my head spin.

"This is Noah and his mate Zara," the Queen's voice cuts through my bitter memories.

I focus on the couple before me - a stunning blonde with eyes like summer sky standing next to a man whose wire-rimmed glasses can't hide his sharp, calculating hazel gaze. His hand rests possessively on her lower back while she grips his fingers with casual intimacy.

"So nice to meet you," Zara says, extending her hand with a warmth that seems genuine.

"Nice to meet you too," I manage, proud that my voice stays steady.

"I'm Noah, Crown Prince Knox's royal advisor." He offers his own hand, and I notice the calluses that suggest he's more than just a bookish consultant.

Just as I'm pulling my hand back, a voice cuts through the night air behind me. "What, we don't rate an introduction to your crown princess?"

"Iris!" The group calls out in unison, and I turn to see a young woman's lips spread in a mischievous grin.

"Hi, Mommy!" She launches herself at the Queen, who accepts the enthusiastic embrace with practiced grace. The family resemblance hits me like a slap - same raven-dark hair, same bright green eyes. Knox's sister has to be.

"Babe, I've told you to slow down when you walk," a deep voice rumbles from the direction she came. Holy s**t. The man approaching is built like a fortress - all hard muscle and sharp angles, with a military buzz cut and eyes like steel. He could probably snap me in half without breaking a sweat.

"Good evening, Your Highness." He bows deeply, and I stare at him in confused shock. The idea of this werewolf tank showing deference to me is so absurd I almost laugh. My new title still feels like a costume I'm wearing, and his bow only emphasizes how surreal this whole night has become.

The mountain of a werewolf pulls Iris from her mother's embrace, but before he can properly scold her, she spins around and plants a quick kiss on his lips. It's like watching ice melt in summer - his scowl vanishes instantly. "Sorry, I'll walk slower next time. I was just too excited to meet Knox's mate!" She turns to me with a grin that could light up the entire garden.

"Hi, I'm Iris!" Before I can react, she yanks me into a bone-crushing hug that rivals her mother's. Must be genetic; this family's tendency to express affection through potential suffocation.

"Nice to meet you," I manage once she releases me, glancing between her and her mate, who looks like he could bench-press a carriage.

"So tell me," Iris starts, grabbing my hand with infectious enthusiasm. She launches into a rapid-fire series of questions about my life, and something weird happens - I actually want to answer them. The words flow freely as I tell them about my love for sparring and my secret addiction to sneaking cookies from the kitchen. No calculated responses, no careful editing. Just... me.

They laugh easily, sharing their own stories. Zara and Iris dominate the conversation while their mates hover protectively nearby, strong hands resting on their waists like anchors. The casual intimacy between them makes something in my chest ache.

As Queen Grace and Iris dive into a heated debate about hair products, I find my eyes scanning the lamplit grounds for my own mate. Haven't caught a glimpse of him all night.

"Missing him already?" Aria's smug voice echoes in my head.

"It's his party - I just want to know if he's even here," I snap back, but then his scent hits me like a punch to the gut.

My head whips around so fast I nearly give myself whiplash and holy s**t. There he stands, and just... f**k. He's devastating in a midnight blue jacket with silver threading that catches the moonlight, the cut emphasizing his broad shoulders and warrior's build. The formal attire should look stiff and uncomfortable on someone so powerful, but he wears it like a second skin.

I can't help but drink him in, and my heart does this stupid little flutter that makes me want to punch myself in the face.

My momentary pleasure at seeing Knox shatters as I notice the woman beside him. She's gorgeous - all long legs and perfect curves - and the way her head falls back as she laughs at something he says makes my stomach turn. The smile he gives her in return feels like claws raking across my chest. Something primal inside me snarls at the sight. His smile should be mine. His laughter should be for my jokes only.

Disgusted by these possessive thoughts, I have no right to feel, I snag a glass of wine from a passing server. Thank the Moon Goddess that Iris, her mom, and Zara are too deep in their heated debate about whatever to notice as I knock it back in one desperate gulp. The second glass follows just as quickly, the alcohol burning away the bitter taste of jealousy.

A prickle runs down my spine, and I look up to catch Astor - Iris's mountain of a mate - watching me with knowing eyes. f**k. The weight of his stare makes my skin crawl like he can see right through my bullshit. Like he knows exactly why I'm trying to drown these unwanted feelings.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," I mutter, practically fleeing from his too-perceptive gaze. The wine churns in my stomach as I escape into the cooler air away from the crowd.

“Feeling jealous of a mate you're not supposed to want?" The whispered voice in my mind freezes me mid-step. "How... interesting."

My eyes widen as I recognize the lilting accent. “The garden. Now!” Avery’s mental command pierces through my mind, cold and unyielding. She’s not a werewolf, but her dark witch abilities allow her to mimic our mind-linking. Unlike us, though, she can do more—she can know our thoughts.

I bolt toward the gardens, my heart thundering against my ribs. The fragrant rows of roses and moonflowers are empty, the lantern light casting strange shadows between the hedges. As I turn to leave, darkness swirls overhead. I snap my gaze upward, but it's already gone - replaced by a cold breath against my cheek.

"Princess." Avery's voice whispers through the air like smoke, but she's nowhere to be seen. My scream echoes through the empty garden, swallowed by the night.

Laughter explodes through the garden, making my heart slam against my ribs as I wait for her to appear. But she doesn't materialize - just keeps playing her mind games.

"I told him you'd appreciate this method best," her voice echoes through the darkness.

"Where the hell are you?" I spin in place, searching the shadows.

"Everywhere, dear." Her words dance around me, and I hate how she can make something so simple sound so freaking creepy.

"Why are you here?" I force my breathing to steady even as my pulse races.

"To deliver a message." Her whisper brushes against my ear, her shadow's breath ice-cold on my skin before vanishing. "Jax hopes that even with Knox being your mate, he can still count on you to deliver."

"Yes, he can." I make my voice hard as steel, refusing to let any doubt seep through, even as my mind races with how they already know about Knox being my mate.

"So you're not curious to feel your mate's touch?" A phantom hand slides up my arm, making my skin crawl. "Your mate's breath hot against your face as he stares into your eyes, f*****g you into oblivion?" Her taunting words slither through my mind, and I swallow hard against the sudden heat in my blood.

"I'm not." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, and I pray to the Moon Goddess she can't sense the bullshit in my words.

"Good. Then we expect to know Prince Knox's daily routine, what's discussed in his private meetings, and who his strongest allies are at court."

"Yes." The word feels like ash in my mouth.

"Good, because—" Avery's shadow suddenly swells, darkening and growing until it looms over me. I think she's finally going to show herself when—

"Who the f**k are you talking to?"

I whirl around so fast I nearly fall, and every drop of blood drains from my face. Knox stands there, his green eyes hard. How long has he been watching? How much did he hear?

"f**k!" The curse slips out as I stare at him, his scowl deepening as he waits for an answer I don't know how to give.