Intoxicated by Love

The guards were starving us on purpose.

It had been nearly two days since we'd been thrown into these stone cells, and they hadn't brought us so much as a crust of bread or a cup of water.

My stomach cramped with hunger, and my throat felt like sandpaper, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

All I could think about was her.

Stella. Princess Stella. My mate.

"This is ridiculous!" Ricky snarled from the cell next to mine, rattling his chains against the iron bars. "They're treating us like animals! We're proud Valdris werewolves, not some street thives."

Shawn paced in his small cell like a caged wolf, which wasn't far from the truth. "I'm so hungry I could eat these stone walls," he complained. "When was the last time we went this long without food?"

But their complaints felt distant to me, like voices heard through water.

I sat against the back wall of my cell, a smile playing on my lips as I replayed every second of our encounter over and over in my mind.

The way she had moved when she stepped out of that carriage—like liquid grace given human form.

The flash of her sword as it caught the sunlight, cutting through those bandits like they were made of paper instead of flesh and bone.

The fierce concentration on her beautiful face as she fought, completely focused and deadly.

And then those green eyes finding mine across the battlefield.

The shock of recognition that had passed between us like lightning. The way her lips had parted slightly, as if she felt the same magnetic pull that was driving me half-mad with need.

"Stella," I whispered her name like a prayer, tasting each syllable on my tongue. "Stella, Stella, Stella."

"Are you even listening to us?" Ricky demanded, gripping the bars of his cell and glaring at me. "We need to do something! Break out of here! You're strong enough to snap these chains like twigs!"

I turned my head to look at him, still smiling that dreamy smile I couldn't seem to shake. "We can do anything for her, including starving," I said softly. "She is so pretty. She is so precious."

Ricky blinked at me in confusion, his anger momentarily forgotten. "What did you just say?"

"She's perfect," I continued, my voice taking on that distant quality that came from being lost in memories.

"Did you see how she moved? Like she was dancing instead of fighting. And her hair—it's like spun gold, Ricky. I've never seen anything so beautiful."

"Orion," Shawn said slowly, stopping his pacing to stare at me. "Yes, she's your mate, and the mating bond is strong. But the way you're acting makes it look like you're intoxicated with something."

I laughed, a low, pleased sound that echoed off the stone walls. "Yes, she is the one that intoxicated me," I admitted without shame.

The truth of it filled my chest with warmth despite the cold dungeon air. "She's like wine in my veins, like fire in my blood. I can still feel where her skin touched mine."

I held up my hand, staring at the palm that had gripped her wrist. The memory of that electric contact sent shivers through my entire body.

So soft, so warm, so perfectly right in my grasp.

"Never did we think that you were capable of this," Shawn said quietly, and there was something almost worried in his voice. "I've seen you with hundreds of women, Orion. You've never acted like this. Not once."

He was right, and part of me knew it.

I'd bedded countless females across my conquered territories—beautiful ones, exotic ones, powerful ones. But they all weren't my fated-mates.

So I wasn't able to love them deeply in my mind.

But Stella is the one. Everything about her was different.

The way my wolf had recognized her instantly, howling with joy at finally finding its mate. The way my heart had started racing the moment I saw her, and hadn't slowed down since.

The way every fiber of my being screamed that she belonged to me, and I belonged to her.

"She's is my mate," I said, and my voice carried absolute certainty. "She's mine. She was made for me, and I was made for her. I felt it the moment I saw her."

"But she doesn't seem to trust you," Ricky protested. "And also she is a princess of a kingdom you're planning to conquer! You are in her prison!"

I shrugged, unconcerned. "Details. Small obstacles that don't matter in the face of destiny." I could feel my smile growing wider, more content. "Besides, she'll understand soon enough. The mating bond works both ways. She felt it too—I saw it in her eyes."

My companions exchanged another confused glance, but I was already drifting back into my memories.

The scent of her hair when the wind had blown it toward me.

The graceful line of her neck as she'd turned to look at me.

The way her green eyes had widened when I'd claimed her as mine.

Time passed strangely in that state. I might have been lost in thoughts of Stella for minutes or hours—I couldn't tell.

My hunger became a distant thing, overshadowed by the much more pressing need to see her again, to touch her again, to make her understand what we were to each other.

It must have been evening when my wolf senses picked up the changing light filtering down through the small window high in the corridor.

The sun was setting somewhere above us, painting the world in colors I couldn't see from this underground prison.

But then I caught a scent that made my entire body go rigid with attention.

Her scent. Stella's scent.

I felt my smile return, broader and more eager than before. "She's coming," I announced to my cellmates, who looked at me like I'd lost my mind.

"Who's coming?" Shawn asked.

"My mate, Stella," I said simply, and the words sent pleasure racing through me like strong wine. "She's coming to see us."

"How can you possibly know that?" Ricky demanded.

I tapped my nose. "I can smell her. She's close." The scent was getting stronger with each passing moment—something uniquely hers that made my wolf purr with satisfaction.

Wild roses and rain and something purely female that called to every masculine instinct I possessed.

"You're imagining things," Ricky started to say, but then we all heard it: the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside our cells.

Light, graceful steps that could only belong to one person.

My heart started pounding so hard I was sure they could hear it in the next kingdom.

She was coming.

My beautiful, deadly princess was coming to see me.

The footsteps stopped outside our cells, and then she stepped into view.

If I'd thought she was beautiful on the battlefield, she was absolutely breathtaking now.

She'd changed out of her blood-spattered traveling dress into a gown of deep blue silk that made her green eyes look like emeralds.

Her golden hair was braided with silver ribbons, and she moved with the same fluid grace that had captivated me during the fight.

She carried three plates of food—bread, meat, cheese, and what looked like fresh fruit. The smell of it made my stomach clench with renewed hunger, but I barely noticed.

All my attention was focused on the vision before me.

She placed one plate through the slot in Ricky's cell, then did the same for Shawn. Both of my companions fell on the food like starving wolves, which they essentially were.

But when she approached my cell with the third plate, I rose slowly to my feet, moving with deliberate care.

Our eyes met through the iron bars, and I saw the same recognition there that I felt.

The same electric awareness.

The same inevitable pull that made everything else fade into unimportance.

She slid my plate through the slot, her fingers brushing the metal briefly. Even that indirect contact sent heat shooting through me.

I picked up the plate but didn't immediately start eating.

Instead, I moved closer to the bars, close enough that I could have reached through and touched her if not for the shackles around my wrists.

"My love," I said, my voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that had never failed to affect women before.

But this wasn't about seduction—this was about truth.

About the bond that connected us whether she admitted it or not. "Why don't you come in the cell and feed me this food?"

Her green eyes widened, and I saw her pulse jump at the base of her throat.

She felt it too. The pull. The need. The absolute certainty that we belonged together.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out.

Instead, she just stared at me with those incredible eyes, and I could see the war going on behind them—duty fighting against desire, caution battling with the same magnetic attraction that was driving me to distraction.

I waited, the plate forgotten in my hands, every muscle in my body coiled with anticipation to see what my mate would do next.