The Alpha prince’s true mate (Complete)

*Marsden* I run so hard and so fast that I think my heart might burst through my chest. In my dozen years upon this earth, I've never hated anyone as much as I despise all the people who are talking, laughing, and carrying on as though nothing is amiss. Decked out in mourning black, reminding me of scrawny crows, they are all supposed to be as sad as I am, sad that my father is dead. Certainly, they were solemn at the church and during the funeral procession, and the she-wolves were consoling my mother. But the gents are drinking my father’s spirits and having a jolly good time. It isn’t to be tolerated. As I am now the Alpha prince, I should make them stop. But my mother has told me that I have to be polite, even to my blasted cousin Robbie, who has reminded me that he is next in line should I up and die. I have no plans to do any such thing, especially not in the arms of a tavern wench as my father had. No one is supposed to know that tidbit of information, not even me, but I’ve overheard the servants gleefully whispering about it. I don’t like them either. All I want is to be alone. I slam against the oak tree and let flow the tears that have been building ever since my mother informed me that my father was dead. They are accompanied by huge, gulping sobs that shake my shoulders and thin frame. I hate them, too. At the moment, I hate everything, and I decide I always will. Gathering myself together, I swipe away the embarrassing dampness from my cheeks, inhale a deep breath, and look up at the sky. Or I want to. The view of it is obstructed by the abundance of leaves, the bit of white muslin draped over a branch, and a pair of swaying legs. It’s a stupid girl. “Hello,” she calls down. “I wasn’t crying,” I blurt out, detesting that my voice sounds froggy and hoarse. “I know. Why don’t you come up?” My mother forbids me to climb trees, forbids me to do a lot of things. “I can’t.” “Are you afraid? Don’t be scared. You’ll like it up here.” It’s embarrassing to have a girl think me cowardly. I am the heir. I grimace. Not anymore. Now I am the Alpha prince. I should be able to do what I want. So up I climb. As I near the branch upon which she is sitting, she scoots over to make room for me. “I’m sorry about your father,” she says, once I am settled. I’m not surprised she knows who I am. Everyone knows who I am. “Who are you?” “Linnie, the baker’s daughter.” From the village. I’ve passed through it on occasion, but I’ve never been inside any of the shops. My mother likes only the shops in Blackrock city. My father, on the other hand, was apparently fonder of the village offerings, not that he’d ever taken me with him. “I’m eight years old,” she continues on as though her age is important, “and I’m never going to marry.” “How do you know?” “Because I don’t want to.” Taking a deep breath, she looks away from me. “It’ll be dark soon. I love the night.” I decide she probably loves everything, but then her father isn’t dead. “You’re so lucky to live here,” she says. “It’s so pretty and your home is monstrously large. I like looking at it.” My mother doesn’t fancy it, but then she doesn’t fancy a lot of things. I don’t think she even fancied her husband. “Do you want to talk about him?” she asks. “Who?” “Your father.” I shake my head. She wraps her hand around mine. “It’s all right then. We’ll just sit here and be quiet.” And so we do. While the shadows begin to lengthen and creep over the land, while the sun slowly slides beyond the horizon, while the breeze blows and grows cooler. “I have to go,” she finally says as twilight hovers, and I wish she hadn’t broken the spell that had helped me to forget my anger, and my sadness, and my worry. “Go on.” She nudges my arm. “Climb down.” Down. I hadn’t considered how I’d get out of the tree when I’d hauled up it, and peering down from my perch now, I realize how very far I’ve climbed. The earth, the safety of firm ground, is miles and miles away. “I can’t.” My voice is an embarrassing squeak. “All right then, I’ll go first.” She scrambles lithely over my lap as though she fears nothing at all. When she reaches the trunk, she stretches out her leg and balances one foot on a lower branch before meeting my gaze, reaching out and squeezing my hand in reassurance. “Keep your eyes on me. I won’t let you fall.” It’s stupid, but I believe her, believe she has the power to guide me down. So I follow, slowly, tentatively, inch by terrifying inch, looking down into her blue eyes while she gazes up into mine of green until my feet land on the earth. “I’ll see you around!” she cries, and off she goes, darting toward the road that leads to the nearby village. With a measure of wonderment, I watch her go. I might be only twelve, but within the past hour, I’ve fallen in love, and I know without question that one day I will marry her.