The Broken Mates

Chapter 8.

Chapter 8.

Fredrick lay in his bed, the pain that had gone on for most of the night finally subsiding. A thin film of sweat covered his body, and he knew that he should attempt to get some sleep whilst he could. However, he needed to get up, get ready, and hope that Løna and her husband were done with their s****l exploits for the day. He could only hope, but lately, in their bid to induce labour, they were going at it like newly mated werewolves.

He was also fully aware that he should apologise to Alisha for his absence. It was really disrespectful that he was missing on hosting the UK Queen of Werewolves, and if the shoe were on the other foot, he would be more than a little offended.

“You need to apologise to Rebecca as well,” Søren declared.

“I am fully aware of that,” Fredrick sighed.

He knew that he owed Princess Rebecca an apology as well. However, he felt that the sassy woman would never accept it, or if she did, he was certain she would give him hell first. He firmly believed that he would never be able to fully explain what had angered him so much. The royal princess, as beautiful as she was, clearly would have zero understanding of his predicament. Especially as it was widely known that she had rejected her Rogue mate a few years ago, without a second thought. He could not show the weakness to anyone that having a married human mate bringing him to his knees brought. He was supposed to rule this land, but he could hardly get out of bed some days.

“ Plus, how am I supposed to apologise Søren? I can hardly say ‘Sorry, but I was really attracted to you and had lust-filled thoughts. That, for the first time in years, gave me a massive hard-on and your delicious boob on show tipped me over the edge. It was only then I realised that I had a mate. All be it one that I can never have, but I felt angry at myself for wanting to take you back to my cabin and f**k you senseless!’. That would go down like a bag of spanners!” Fredrick protested.

“Or not! She seems like she would understand,” Søren protested, feeling his human counterpart was selling Becca short.

Fredrick shook his head, confused at why his wolf would care about any woman other than his mate.

“Really, did you hear what she shouted at me? She seems far from reasonable,” Fredrick argued back.

“Yeah, she did give you hell. I like that about her.” Søren grinned inside his mind.

“Aren’t you the one that is supposed to be ‘mate or die’ in this scenario? What has gotten into you wolf?” Fredrick asked, wondering why his wolf was more than okay with the thoughts of Becca naked beneath him.

“Maybe I have had enough of this life, Fredrick. Maybe I need to be free from the pain of this mate bond just as much as you do. I get why you don’t reject Løna. Hell, I would hate to cause her pain myself, but really, we cannot go on like this. We have to move on at some point. Plus, Princess Becca is drop-dead gorgeous, with a sassy mouth, a body that screams to be worshiped, and a look in her eye that tells me she will understand our pain, that she has experienced her own and lives with it daily,” Søren declared.

“That is true, she has. My mother told me how Rebecca had a mate who was evil, and she had to reject him. Apparently, Mother and The King's Mother, Queen Chloe, had quite a heart-to-heart about the situation of their children,” Fredrick sighed, running a hand through his hair, and tugging it slightly in frustration.

“Her wolf likes us. I kind of like her wolf as well, from what I could sense of her,” Søren said.

“How is that even possible? You are mated, and her wolf would not be attracted to a mated wolf, especially as she doesn't know our situation,” Fredrick asked, clearly puzzled by the revelation.

“I have no clue how any of this is possible, Fredrick, it just is. Maybe we just need to stop questioning everything and go with the flow for once in our sad lives,” Søren sighed, not sure what was happening. The wolf had a theory, but he would not scare Fredrick with that until he knew for certain it was a real possibility. Especially as Becca was so angry with them at the moment.

“Anyway, enough. I need to get up and attempt to make myself presentable,” Fredrick sighed, his body exhausted from the night and morning with constant pain and no sleep.

“They are with Hendrick at the castle. Get a few hours of sleep, whilst you can. Then maybe we can function better when they return. So long as our mate doesn’t go on a s*x fest again!” Søren declared, knowing his human counterpart needed rest.

Fredrick could not argue against that point and snuggled himself under his duvet his eyes closing almost as soon as his head hit the pillow and he drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep.

The high-pitched whirring of the pack's rogue alarm woke Fredrick up with a start. He scrambled out of bed and rushed outside. It was rare that they had any problems with rogues around the Helsingør pack, but they were not unheard of. However, after word got out that Fredrick was less than healthy, the attacks had increased over the past few years. The rogues are obviously getting braver, and feeling that they could take advantage of the situation. None of the rogues who attacked had ever survived when they set foot on Helsingør land, but those who remained just outside the border would tell the tail how very rarely they were met by Fredrick. Mostly it was the Beta who would arrive to defend the pack. So still they came, driven by greed, and the desire for power, or the glory they believed was theirs if they claimed the scalp of the Crown Prince of Denmark.

“They pick their moments,” Fredrick grumbled, as he ran out of his chalet, then shifted as his feet hit the soft earth.

“Eastern border, rogues,” the patrol warriors declared over the mind-link to the pack.

Søren ran towards the border, his white paws with a splattering of black fur hitting the ground with such force that the sound thundered around the trees. He was an impressive wolf, even in his weakened state. His paws skidded to a halt as he assessed the situation. There was a band of around five rogues, all snarling and growling, just beyond the border of the pack lands. None of them set foot on the royal grounds. Although Fredrick's warriors were hampered by the border, unable to step over and attack the rogues, the Crown prince was not restrained by those rules, given he was the leader of the whole of Denmark. He could make chase, but he was outnumbered, his warriors locked down by the old law, to only fight on the pack land. Only a wolf with royal blood could legitimately fight in no man’s land. Normally, this would not be an issue, his royal strength would be more than enough to wipe out the threat, but because of his current situation, it would be an even match, if not slightly, tipping the odds in the rogue’s favour.

Not for the first time in his life, Fredrick wondered if he should insist he give up his position, to somebody more fitting than he was at that moment. But each time he had suggested that as an option to his mother, father, and Brother, King Sven the Second, they had insisted it was his birth rite, and he was the werewolf for the job and that they had full confidence in him. The problem was, that Fredrick did not have confidence in himself. The threat that his mate could begin to kiss or love her husband in mid-fight was one that was forever in his mind, especially after what had happened in the International Werewolf War a couple of years ago. He had almost lost his life that day but was transported to a healer wolf, and he still was not sure if that was a blessing or a curse. The werewolves of Denmark deserved a strong leader, and at this moment in time, he wasn’t.

Maybe Hendrick was right, he needed to cut ties with Løna and reject her. His pack and his country deserved that much. Even Søren was seeking out different options. Maybe this was why he found himself attracted to Princess Rebecca; it was time for him to let go.

“Oh, here he is, the Crown Prince himself. Come on then, come get us,” one of the rogues baited him, as the others all laughed.

Fredrick was not a coward, but he was normally a tactical thinker, and to rush straight into the situation was not his way, even when he was at full strength. Søren, however, was a wolf, and to impugn his position as The Crown Prince, Royal Alpha Wolf had him chomping at the bit to show the rogues exactly just how powerful he still was.

“Aww, the poor little prince is frightened to face us on his own, he needs his pack, and they cannot attack us beyond the border,” another rogue laughed.

The jibes were too much for Søren to take, and before Fredrick could stop him, the wolf ran towards the waiting rogues, jumping into the air, across the pack border, landing in the midst of the snarling rogues. He snatched one rogue with his strong jaws, but no sooner than his teeth sunk into him, he felt the pain of infidelity begin to take hold of his body, taking his breath away, and weakening his fighting abilities. All too soon, the other four wolves descended on him, as once more pain consumed his body, not just from his mate, but from the canines of rogue wolves as they sunk into his flesh.