Betrothed to a Prince, In Love With My Bodyguard

Reds and Auroras

Rowan's POV

I try to think of anything but Red as the hours tick by, but as always, I find it impossible. It doesn’t exactly help that I graduated from high school a year ago and have no reason to pay attention to Eli’s teachers. I’m there for one reason: to protect him.

And her, I think to myself. It might be my sister Corrin’s job on paper to protect our princess, but I consider it just as much my own. If anything were to happen to her…

I think back to that day in the royal gardens when she kissed me. It was simultaneously the greatest day of my life and the hardest. She was only thirteen at the time, and I was fourteen. Her mother had died a few months earlier, and Red came to the garden alone at sunset every day to cry. It had been her mother’s favorite place, one they had frequented together. 

I didn’t mean to intrude on her that day, but there had been reports of Rogues looting the markets near the castle, and I hovered on the outskirts of the garden to look after her. She saw me, of course. She always sees me. Sometimes I wonder if she might even have the same sixth sense for me that I seem to have for her.

She wiped her tears and invited me to join her, and I did. I looked at her as she looked down at the flowers, and my heart ached. All I wanted was to make her feel better. So I put my arm around her, not knowing what else to do. She rested her head on my shoulder and said, “I feel lost.”

I squeezed her tighter and told her the only thing I could: “I’m here for you.”

She pulled away from me then, looking up at me with those bright, amber eyes of hers that burn like fire. Before I knew what was happening, she took my face in her hands, stood on her toes, and kissed me.

It was short and sweet, but I’ll never forget it as long as I live. I’ll never forget the feeling of her tear-stained cheeks on my own, of her tiny, delicate arms wrapping themselves around my neck, of the way she smelled—the way she still smells, to this day—like tiger lilies, blood oranges, horses, and campfires.

She gave me a small smile before she left, and for days, we said nothing about it. I thought about it over and over again—what it meant—what it couldn’t mean. What would Eli say if he knew? What would King William, her father, say? The Crescents loved my family, but were their underlings, not their equals. Red was meant to be with an Alpha, not a Beta. 

She confronted me about it eventually. A part of me had assumed that she had kissed me in a moment of weakness—that it meant nothing to her. But when she came to me, jaw set in that brave, stubborn determination she shows so frequently, I knew that wasn’t the case. 

“I want to talk about it,” she told me. “I want to know why you kissed me back and then pretended it never happened.”

I wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to tell her that I wanted to kiss her again, a thousand more times, to never stop kissing her. I wanted to tell her that I loved her more than I had ever even known was possible. I wanted to drop to my knees and pledge to spend the rest of my life with her, then and there.

But I didn’t. She was wrong to love me. It would be bad for her. And more than I wanted to be with her, I wanted things to be good for her.

So I said, “I only kissed you back because I thought you needed comfort.”

I can still see the hurt in her eyes, even now. She was so young then, but she already knew so much pain. 

She didn’t say another word about it; she turned on her heel and walked away. She never mentioned it again. She didn’t seem to hold it against me, which I never quite understood. Within days, the four of us were back to target practice together. She was back to smiling and laughing with me as if nothing had ever happened.

It hurt to see her move on so quickly, but all that truly mattered was that she had forgiven me.

Over the years, it only got harder. My desire to hold her and kiss her turned into a different, more dangerous kind of desire. Her smell began to do more than intoxicate me; it began to arouse me, sometimes to the point of near-insanity. Her body matured from a girl’s body to a woman’s, and now even in the tank tops and scrappy jeans she wears, it’s plain to see she’s got the body of a goddess. When the wolf inside me awakened last year, I was done for. Mine, it howled every time it saw her. Mine.

As for her feelings toward me, I assume they went away. Every once in a while, I catch her looking at me the way I must always look at her, and I wonder. Did she ever stop? Does she want me the way I want her? Is it possible, when she turns eighteen, that her own wolf will howl for me the way mine does for her?

It doesn’t matter, I always remind myself. We can’t be together.

I replay the scene in the cafeteria over in my head for easily the hundredth time. Why did she stare at Dom like that? Why did he stare at her? 

My inner wolf growls at the memory. He nearly had me growling out loud in the cafeteria.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m used to men staring at Red. I’ve found that there are two types of she-wolves in the world, when it comes down to it: Reds and Auroras. Auroras are considered more beautiful to some; they’re delicate flowers, dark-haired, tan-skinned, and red-lipped—the classic wolfish beauty that dates back thousands of years. They’re expected to find their mates at the ripe age of eighteen, bear lots of pups, and cook and clean for their households. And there’s nothing wrong with that, if that’s what they want.

But then there’s Reds.

Reds are fierce and strong. They’re scrappier than Auroras. Paler, perhaps. Freckly, even. They have wild colors in their eyes—purples, reds, even golds, like her. They’re not all redheads, but they’re not classically colored brunettes. They don’t want to domesticate; they want to fight for their kingdom and change the world. They love and protect passionately.

It’s not an exact science, of course. There are she-wolves like Kat who might look one way and act another. But I’ve found that, for the most part, it’s how the world works. At least, how our kingdom works.

And unfortunately, I’m not the only wolf out there who goes for Reds.

Apparently Dom does, too.

But why now? Why all of a sudden? Why did he come up to her out of the blue, telling her about his “exciting news?” Does it have anything to do with the conversation Eli mentioned in the limo?

“Dude,” Eli says, pulling me out of my trance. “Class is over. C’mon.”

My eyes widen as I look around and see that most of the other students have already funneled out of the classroom. “Sorry,” I mutter, rising to my feet.

We’ve just finished the last class of the day, which means next on the agenda is the evening of horseback riding and archery, followed closely behind by a night of camping in which Red reveals the secret she’s so far refused to share with us.

Do I want to know?

She, Corrin, and Aurora are waiting for us in the lobby. 

“Look,” Eli whispers to me, gesturing to Aurora. “She’s actually speaking.”

Sure enough, Aurora is in the middle of recommending the prettiest types of flowers to Red.

“What do you need flowers for?” I ask Red.

“Nothing,” Red says immediately, thrusting herself against the door with all her weight. Even with how much she trains, I doubt Red weighs even half what I do; if I slammed the door that hard, I’d probably shatter it.

Why is she avoiding my question? Why is she avoiding my gaze?

“Are you going to join us tonight?” Eli asks Aurora eagerly. He’s confided in me more than once that he has a bit of a crush on her. You and the rest of the kingdom, I always tell him. Let that one go, mate. She’s your stepsister.

Sometimes I wish Eli would go for Corrin, who I’m certain would be over the moon if he did. But he won’t. Corrin’s a Red—a warrior with the same sandy-brown hair and gray eyes as me. If Eli’s type is Auroras, he’ll never go for Corrin.

Besides, if I can’t be with Red, Eli can’t be with Corrin.

“I don’t think so,” Aurora tells Eli gently. “As much as my mother would love it if I did, horses aren’t really for me.”

“Me, neither.” Eli grins at her. “They stink.”

I wonder whether Eli smells the faint scent of horse in his sister that I do. I certainly don’t think it stinks.

“We’ll drop you off at the castle before we head to the stables,” Red tells Aurora. “We’ve got to get our camping gear anyway, and I wouldn’t mind packing some clean clothes.” 

The thought of what Red will wear to sleep that night overtakes both me and my inner wolf, and I fail to comprehend a single word anyone says for the rest of the car ride.

- - - - -

Within twenty minutes of getting on our horses, Red and I are out of earshot of Corrin and Eli. 

“Think we have this backwards,” I joke to Red. “I’m supposed to be protecting Eli and Corrin’s supposed to be protecting you.”

“Not our fault they can’t keep up,” she replies with a mischievous grin. “Besides, since when have you adhered to that rule?”

 I know she doesn’t mean anything by it, but I feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment. I guess I thought I was more subtle in my efforts to protect her.

Thankfully, she changes the subject. “I think we’re getting close to the shooting range. Isn’t that stone the first marker?”

Red’s sense of direction and keen awareness of every inch of her kingdom are just two more of the reasons I’m so utterly in love with her. I know she’ll never be Queen of Canis, but if you ask me, it’s a damn shame. She inherited her father’s wisdom in battle and politics and her mother’s wisdom in the celestial and divine world. “The Oracle of Peace,” they called her mother. No one has ever called Red that, but sometimes I wonder.

“Yeah,” I say, pulling out my bow. She does the same. “I hate this part.”

If we were using guns, it would be a different story. I chose them as my dominant weapon because I thought they were the strongest means of protection, though Corrin disagreed. 

“Guns run out of ammo,” she said the day I made my choice. “Just like bows. Swords and spears never will.”

She was right, of course, but I stuck to my guns. Swords and spears are no match for a flying bullet; that’s the bottom line. 

As for bows and arrows, they’re a nuanced, complicated kind of weapon I’ve never had much patience for, especially while galloping on horseback. I’ve never been able to understand how Red is so good at this. 

I watch her as she drops her reins, drawing an arrow from her quiver and nocking it. My eyes trail to her legs, which are glued to her mare’s sides with inconceivable steadiness. She uses her thighs and core to steer the mare without touching her mouth. My mind begins to reel as I imagine those thighs wrapped around me, her tiny waist moving up and down in that slow, methodical rhythm… I picture myself curling my fingers into that long, wild mess of red hair as I bury myself in her…

When she looses the arrow, it takes me more than a moment to tear my eyes away from her and see where her arrow landed.

Bullseye, of course. No surprise.

“Your turn,” she tells me as she retakes her reins. 

I reluctantly drop my own reins, grimacing as my gelding immediately begins to track left instead of straight. I dig into him with my left spur, pushing him away from my leg, and he halfway listens. I draw an arrow quickly, hoping to get this over with before my gelding unseats me. I lock onto the nearest target, hold my breath, and loose my arrow. It manages to land on the target, but on the outermost ring.

She giggles as I curse. “You haven’t improved.”

No, I think to myself as her the sound of her giggle sends my inner wolf spiraling into a lovestruck stupor. I certainly haven’t.

- - - - -

When we reach the camping spot by the river and untack our mounts, Corrin and I offer to do everything—pitch the tent, start the fire, and hunt the dinner. It is our duty both as their Betas and as their bodyguards, after all. Eli and Red, of course, immediately decline our offer. Eli gets to work on the tent, and Red grabs her bow and quiver.

“I’ll go with you,” I say when I see her make for the woods, but she gently presses her hand against my chest, stopping both me and my heart.

“I can handle a few rabbits,” she tells me with a grin. “Help Corrin with the fire. I’m sure she’d appreciate you chopping the firewood.”

Corrin grins, but I hesitate. “We’re losing the light. What if there are Rogues out there? What if—”

“I’ll stay within earshot!” Red shouts dismissively, already twenty steps away from us.

I sigh as I turn to Corrin, who hands me an axe. “She’ll be fine,” she assures me. “This entire preserve is protected by the Sentinels.”

I reluctantly agree, following Corrin to select a tree to destroy. As I begin chopping, I ask the question I know I shouldn’t. “What’s she going to tell us tonight?”

Corrin looks away from me immediately. “How should I know?”

I slam my axe into the tree so hard, I can feel the ground shake. “I know you know, Cor. She tells you everything.”

She crosses her arms. “Fine. I know. But it’s not my place to say. You’ll know soon enough.”

By the time we’ve got enough firewood for the night, I’ve urged her to tell me at least twenty more times, all of which she’s refused. The sun has almost fully set, and when we return to the campsite to find that Red still isn’t back, the panic starts to set in.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Eli tells me when he sees my face. “You know Red. She’s probably tracking a giant deer halfway through the forest by now.”

I clench my jaw and say nothing as I start the fire.

Another ten minutes go by, and finally, unable to bear the worry for another second, I rise to my feet and reach for my rifle.

Before I can take a step, she emerges from the treeline, staggering beneath the weight of the gigantic boar she carries on her shoulders.

She’s covered in blood.

“Oh, dear sweet Moon Goddess,” Corrin curses, jumping out of her seat and sprinting over to Red to help her with the boar. I follow, moving at a slower, dazed pace. I’ve never seen Red hurt like this. I feel a sudden, uncontrollable rage take over my body.

“Who did this?” I demand as Corrin hauls the boar over to the fire. I reach my fingertips out to touch Red’s face, which is filled with scratches. My fingertips trail down to her forearm, which has a deep gash in it.

“You should see the other guy,” Red says with a grin, gesturing to the dead boar that Corrin has begun to carve. “It’s just a little bite. I’m fine.”

I’ve never wanted to kick an already dead animal before, but I do now.

Eli hands me the first aid kit from my bag. I gently guide Red to a chair, turning her to face the fire so that I can see her wounds. My heart won’t stop racing.

“We should call our father,” I say. “He can bring his Jeep out here and take us back so you can get this looked at.”

“No way. A little Neosporin for the scratches and a few stitches on my arm. You can handle it, can’t you?”

Can I? Can I handle digging a needle and thread into that perfect skin of hers? Can I handle causing her pain?

I have to, I realize as I look into her eyes. It’s what she wants.

“Fine,” I say, pulling out the peroxide and squeezing some onto a cotton ball. “But only if you tell us this big secret you’ve been keeping all day.”

She sighs, closing her eyes as I begin to dab at the cuts on her face. It’s so hard to be this close to her and not do more. How many times have I stared at her face and ached to touch it?

“My father betrothed me to Dom Gibbous.”

I drop the cotton swab, backing away from her like I’ve just been stung. My heart stops. Everything stops.

Betrothed? 

I had known a time would eventually come when she would have to leave the castle. She’d marry some Alpha and live happily ever after, far from me, and never think about me again.

But now? She’s not even eighteen. She’s still inhigh school.

“That’s ridiculous,” I hear Eli say, though my eyes aren’t functioning properly enough to look at him. I can’t look at her, either. I realize I’m looking straight into the fire. The smoke burns my eyes, but I ignore it. “You can’t marry a Gibbous. That’s like marrying the Sun Devil.”

“That’s what I said.” Her voice is cold and distant. She doesn’t normally sound like this. I force my eyes away from the fire to look at her. She looks sadder than I’ve seen her in a long time. “But he’s worried about how far they’ve climbed—worried they’re going to try to reclaim the throne. It’s a way to keep the peace. It’s… my responsibility.”

All I can hear is howling. Shut up, I scream internally at my wolf. Shut up, shut up—

It’s no use. His heart is breaking. So is mine.

She’s looking back at me. She knows. She can see it in my eyes.

“When?” I whisper.

“I don’t know. He’s throwing us an engagement party next weekend. As for the… wedding…” She seems to have a hard time getting the word out, but not as hard as it is for me to hear. “Sometime after my birthday, and after graduation, but beyond that, he didn’t say. One step at a time, I guess.”

One step at a time.

The only step I feel like taking is off a cliff.