Dark Fate of the Crimson Princess(Breeder#8)

Chapter 5 : Dinner with the Enemy

Rion

I watched the Crimson Princess slip behind the bathroom door and hurried behind it into the tub before quickly pulling the curtains to the side. The sound of the metal rings echoed and soon after, I heard the rustle of her maneuvering out of her dress.

She quickly tossed it outside the curtain and it landed on the ground where I could see it. The sight of the tattered garment left me feeling a little dirty, as it kindled a warm spark in me that I tried to push down. I tried not to be nosy or curious, but something in me insisted I pay attention.

My wolf demanded it.

I needed to focus. The journey ahead would be arduous, long, and I'd have to deal with her uppity attitude the whole way. No doubt she'd spend the entire time complaining that she wasn't bathing in essential oils or getting gourmet food on the hour from her poor servants.

Within a few minutes, the shower spurted hot water and steam quickly filled the room. My attention drew back to her and the aroma coming from the shower.

The scent of my ex's soap and shampoo hit me like a brick wall out of nowhere. I had forgotten to remove those after she left, and some of the more tantalizing memories associated with those smells began to resurface. I sniffed, unable to help myself.

As the scent mixed in with the steam and wafted my way, it intoxicated me. My thoughts drifted and I couldn't help but think of that woman naked behind the curtain. I even saw a part of her silhouette from the light above the shower, but the curtain was too thick to show any details other than vague curves.

Despite my best efforts to keep myself at ease, It made me hard.

I stood up off the bed, flustered by my own urges, and left the room. I just needed ten minutes to pull myself together, that's all. She was just a prissy princess whose parents were responsible for my younger sister being taken from me. She was a means to an important end. She was nothing more, nothing less.

I gently shut the door of my room and walked out into the living room, where I found my gang sitting on the futons, chatting. I made it to the bottom of the steps but before I could say anything, the door burst open and Jasper appeared with several plastic bags hanging from his fingers.

The smell of Chinese take-out made its way toward me, substituting one human urge for another in my body as my stomach growled. I was grateful for the distraction.

I went over to him and paid him for his efforts.

“My favorite! Thanks, Jasper, I appreciate it."

“No problem, man." He smiled at me, but it was guarded. The guy never got scared, but I could tell he was at that moment. The journey ahead would be a long one, but I knew it wasn't the journey or even the princess that got him worried.

It was Hestia's followers he was concerned about, and I didn't necessarily blame him.

They were a band of ruthless witches, powerful and mean, even for the likes of him. I didn't want to fear them, and I didn't want him to think I was scared, so I brushed it off with a little friendly pop to his shoulder. He nodded and returned the gesture with a gentle brush to my upper arm, but the unease in his eyes remained.

I took my share, a carton of what looked like delicious noodles and stir-fried meat and vegetables, then paused. I'd gotten the princess a take-out box as well. It was a long way to the dark forest, after all. She would need just as much energy as the rest of us.

“I'll be back later," I said, then left my gang.

They were busy chatting amongst themselves and didn't seem to mind, though I did catch a glance from Jasper as I headed for the kitchen. I grabbed two plates and two forks, then dumped the contents of either carton onto the plates.

Part of me wondered why I was going through the extra steps. It seemed a lot easier just to eat straight from the box, which was what I often resorted to doing, but I felt that the plates would be a nice addition. I guess I was tired of eating straight out of the containers. I grabbed the plates and headed for the room again.

I opened the door and saw Daphne step out of the shower between the bathroom door and the wall. She wrung out the excess water from her hair and let it hang limp on her shoulders, causing part of the oversized shirt underneath to accumulate wet spots.

She wore grungy cargo pants that looked like they had never been ironed. Her clothes were straight out of the seedy side of the city, but somehow she still looked so sexy. For a few seconds, my brain shut off and I stared at her, holding my two plates. Then I realized I had been looking for far too long and shook myself out of my stupor.

I had to focus.

She walked out of the bathroom door and paused in the entryway. Her eyes alighted on the two plates of food in my hands and brightened with interest. Even from that distance, I heard her stomach growl. I put my plate on my bed and moved to hand over hers, but the moment it came into contact with her hand, she swiped up her palm beneath the plate.

Sauce-covered noodles and fried meat flung up before they fell onto the floor, followed by the plate and the fork that clattered and made a mess on my carpet. I stared at the broken shards of the plate and the glob that was once a delicious meal from the local bazaar market.

That pampered bitch....

I was about to begin screaming at her for how ungrateful she was acting, then I remembered the last time I offered her something to drink and realized she would not be very accepting of whatever I offered in the future. Still, the gesture angered me all the same.

“Why'd you do that? You're wasting some of the best food in this part of town!"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes like the prissy Royal she was. It was so annoying, but somehow the defiant and stubborn set of her jaw was intriguing.

“Where do you get off telling me I'm wasting food, yet you're holding me, an innocent woman, hostage?"

I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I should've known you'd react this way to any sort of kindness from me. The Royal family are all a bunch of fat, pompous, entitled leeches. I wish all of them would end up in a coma like your brother"

I knew I'd hit her hard when her face distorted into a look of shock, but within a second she threw a backhanded slap across the side of my face. It burned a little, but I almost laughed at that puny slap.

If she only knew the true blows I'd survived in this life.

The burn left as quickly as it came. But I looked at her and sensed the fear in her eyes. She might have thought my next move would be to kill her. I didn't want her dead. That was for Hestia's followers.

There was a short, tense pause between us as she seemed to calculate her next move. There was little she could do in this scenario. She and I knew that all too well.

She dove to the floor for the fork, and I couldn't help but sneer at her the moment she returned to eye level, wielding the fork in my face that shook from her fear. Clearly, she had never had to defend herself a day in her life. She spoke with conviction and defiance; I gave her that.

“Don't make me hurt you! I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I must."

Something in me liked her putting up a fight and being feisty, a carnal, animal part of me that sparked a new fire in my lower regions. I tried to resist both the urge to strike out at her to grab the fork as well as the urge that my wolf gradually made clear what it wanted to do to her.

Without allowing the latter to make a full manifestation, I reached out, grabbed her wrist, and tightened my grip. She resisted me and I could feel the warmth of her passionate grasp against the skin on my fingers. Her pulse pounded against me, like a little heartbeat. It overwhelmed me, causing me to lose focus. My wolf awakened and its desires grew stronger.

I had to focus. I had to resist.

I gave her wrist a little twist. It was not much, but was just enough that the fork fell to the floor out of her weakened fingers. She yelped and I cringed as I realized I gripped her too tight. Perhaps I was being too rough with her.

I looked into her eyes and felt my wolf urges rekindle. It worsened the more I looked at her, the more I breathed in her scent… not just the scent of the soap, but a deeper scent inherent to her that I could not ignore.

I had to focus.

I bent her arm behind her back and pushed her face first into the wall. She squirmed and the wall made her deep, huffing breaths muffled. I didn't want to see her face as I held her there. I didn't want to match her face to the feeling that gradually crept back into my loins.

“You can't hold me forever. Sooner or later my parents are going to find you and make you pay," she grunted.

She began to struggle again, and I was certain if it went on for too long she'd be able to break free.

I pressed my body against her, allowing the curve of her back to press against my chest and the firmness of her hips to rest against mine.

My wolf immediately reminded me how bad of an idea that was. The feelings and desires that emanated from my wolf came in hot waves of magma ebbing and flowing like ocean tides.

What was just a spark moments ago snapped into a flame. Her damp hair radiated her warm scent and it drove me crazy, igniting the inner fire of the wolf within me.

I swallowed into a tightening throat as my eyes connected with the skin that was exposed from her delicate shoulder to her swan-like neck.

I tried to resist and push down the sensation, but my wolf's unending insistence only made it worse.