The Alpha's Princess Mate

2

SEAN

Fuck, I loved the Fae world.

And not just because there weren't things like the Internet, social networks, and nosy journalists and paparazzi there: no, it was all… better. The people were friendly and cheerful, the food was the best I’d ever had, and the women were the most beautiful ever, with their sparkling eyes and pointy ears - and sometimes, even wings. Moreover, thanks to the absence of pollution, the sky was a splendid, twinkling blanket, and the scents and colors of the world were pure, vivid, and gaudy.

It was a rejuvenating place, and I went there whenever I could, especially when I needed to get my head off real life - and being the future Alpha of one of the United States' most important packs, that need was a quite frequent one.

I sighed with pleasure, sipping a dark beer in the tavern. Hermann's pub had been recommended to me by a friend, and it was one of the most popular in Carenna: it was crowded with supernaturals of all kinds. Fae, shifters, witches, vampires - all there to relax and enjoy the night, not really looking forward to starting a fight with the others.

"Hi, sweetheart," a girl smiled lewdly at me, sitting down next to me. It wasn't hard to understand what her job was, or why she'd approached me. "How's your night going?"

"So far, so good, thanks,” I replied politely.

She moved even closer - so close that her lips gently brushed my neck when she spoke again. "Would you like it to go ... better than just good?"

I pursed my lips, trying not to be rude. "Thank you for the offer, but I have a girlfriend," I said, putting some distance between us, and she nodded.

"Don't worry, then," she smiled, this time more genuinely. "Enjoy your night".

"Thanks... you too, I guess?".

With a chuckle, she got up and walked over to the counter; meanwhile, another girl, more modestly dressed, approached me, asking me if I wanted something to eat.

“Well, tonight our main dish is beef stew,” she explained when I asked her what options were available. "But we also have baked potatoes, vegetables, and various types of cheeses and hams."

“The stew will be fine, thank you. Oh, and can I have some potatoes, too?” I added then, figuring they'd go well with the stew.

The girl nodded. “I'll get you everything right away, then. Would you like more beer?"

"No, I’m good".

I was there to have a drink, to wind down - getting drunk until I could no longer remember my own name wasn't particularly my jam.

I watched the waitress walk away towards the counter when, suddenly, a strange scent filled the room.

What the hell …

A girl had just entered the tavern from the back door, escorted by Hermann, the owner. Her slender figure was wrapped in an anonymous dark cloak that hid most of her features, except for a few blonde hair strands ...

Only that they weren't blonde. When, as she made her way to the counter, she pulled the hood off, her hair was chocolate brown.

That's strange, I frowned. I could swear they were blonde.

She took off her cloak, leaning it on a hanger, revealing a lithe body wrapped in a soft wool sweater tightened at the waist by a leather belt, black leggings, and laced leather boots high up to the knee.

A werewolf, judging by her scent, like me ... and a quite powerful one, too. Most likely an Alpha. Still, something about her scent didn't convince me: it wasn't the normal scent of a wolf. Of this, I was certain.

She probably wasn't older than twenty, or twenty-one: from her cheerful and jovial behavior it was clear that she wanted to look like an ordinary girl, but to a careful eye, it wasn’t hard to notice that she was anything but that. Her lean, trained body and the way she moved it betrayed her as being a formidable and fearsome warrior. I could only imagine what an opponent she would be in her wolf form.

My wolf came to the surface, intrigued by the beautiful she-wolf in front of us: we both froze when, while laughing with the waitress who'd served me, her hair slipped down her back, uncovering an elegant pointed ear.

Half Fae, and half wolf. One of the rarest - and deadliest - creatures in the world.

That was when I noticed it; the tattoo on the inside of her right forearm. Two crossed swords, surmounted by a crown.

That confirmed my suspicions.

Fuck, I thought. She’s an Elite.

The Elite was a group of extraordinary warriors, all hybrids between Fae and wolves, in the service of King Malcolm. No one knew their names or exact numbers, nor their appearance: they were the king's private guards and assassins, the ones who were sent to carry out the most difficult and delicate jobs. I’d never seen them in person, but according to the rumors, they always went around armed and with a glamour that hid their Fae features and real faces. Whenever supernaturals had to talk about them, it was always done with that certain tone of reverence you'd use to talk about an extremely powerful person or a divinity. Everyone was rightfully scared of them - but I wasn't the only one who secretly kind of admired them. I mean ... they were basically gods. And just like gods, they instilled in people both fear and awe.

Seeing an Elite warrior drinking and laughing with a waitress in the Fae world… f**k.

There were no other words but that.

Fuck.

No one’s ever gonna believe me at home.

I spent the rest of the night looking at the girl, unable to peel my eyes away from her - from that warrior, that assassin that was having fun with her friend like any other twenty-year-old. The more I looked at that scene, the more absurd and nonsensical it seemed: it was incredible how an Elite warrior could look so… normal. Young. Fragile, even, when I saw her worry for a moment.

Still, I knew there was nothing normal and fragile about her: the hilt of the dagger sticking out of her boot, towards which her hand moved imperceptibly when someone shady got too close to her, proved it.

She was an Alpha predator, conceived and bred for blood.

And alcohol.

Yes, because she and her friend spent the night gulping down red beer and spirits until three in the morning, when she decided she wanted to leave and Hermann offered to have his son escort her home.

She shook her head, grumbling something, and then did something that made all eyes in the inn snap on her: she climbed onto the counter and started walking on it, probably to prove to the owner that she was not drunk at all and could go home without problems.

Too bad that, between her staggering gait and the damp, slick counter, disaster was just around the corner.

I didn't even realize that I got up and sprinted towards her: a moment before I was sitting at my table, and she’d just lost her footing ... and the next one, I had her in my arms, firmly pressed to my chest.

She smelled like peaches. Beneath the persistent smell of beer and fried food, there was a subtle aroma of peaches.

The girl raised her gaze, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

Her eyes ... I'd never seen such beautiful eyes. So deep, so bright, and ringed with black makeup that made those cornflower blue irises stand out even more.

They took my breath away.

And for an endless moment, I saw nothing but that: those beautiful eyes, in that even more beautiful face, as I felt something move inside me, something inexplicable ... something inevitable.

Jessica.

From some remote and sleeping corner of my mind came the name of my girlfriend, of the woman I loved, and suddenly, all the magic broke, exploding like glass in thousands of shards.

And I felt deeply disgusted with myself.

What kind of man was one who stared at a woman for hours, only to get lost in her eyes and be able to just think about how gorgeous she was, while still happily in a relationship? Certainly not the kind of man I wanted to be for Jessica.

She deserved better.

Much better.

So, as if her clothes were burning my skin, I put the girl down, helping her to stand up and taking a couple of steps back, ignoring the cheers and whistles of the other customers complimenting me on my "heroic rescue".

"Oh ..." the girl mumbled, only then realizing she was safe and sound, with all her bones still intact. "Thank you".

"Sit down, now," Hermann grumbled, helping her sit on a stool and wrapping her in her cloak. It took him less than five minutes to organize her return home, speaking in a low voice to a guy that must have been his son. Considering the secrecy with which they discussed it, she was probably someone important – or perhaps they just didn’t want to let her address out to prevent some evil f***s from taking advantage of her drunkenness. However, during all of this, I stood frozen on the edge of the scene, in complete shock.

I loved Jessica. I loved her with all my heart. Yet ... it was certainly not the first time I noticed a beautiful woman while being in a relationship, but it had always stopped there: at a simple recognition. What had just happened had moved something inside me, something I could not define. Something I hated, because it made me feel like a damned traitor, a cheater.

Still, I couldn't ignore it.

It was physically impossible for me. My whole body and soul were quivering for her, aching for her.

And so I found myself next to Hermann.

“I'm an Alpha werewolf,” I said. "I can take her home".