7 - Mating Night (4)

Sybil’s POV

“What are you up to?”

Hunter’s question came the moment we laid Viggo down on the bed.

I straightened slowly, one brow lifting as I turned toward him. There was an edge in his voice now, sharp, suspicious. Very different from the teasing heat from earlier.

“What do you mean, what am I up to?”

He leaned a shoulder against the bedpost, arms folding across his chest. The movement pulled his towel lower on his hips, revealing more golden skin and hard muscle than any man had a right to possess.

“Well,” he said, watching me carefully, “you spent months making the king’s guards chase you across half the continent. Fighting them. Escaping them. Refusing to come home.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And then suddenly… You agree. No arguments. No bloodshed. No drama.”

His gaze dragged slowly over my face, like he was trying to peel me apart layer by layer.

“So yes,” he finished quietly. “I’m sensing a hidden agenda.”

I crossed my arms, ignoring the way awareness prickled under his stare. “Did you investigate me? I want to be Queen. That’s my birthright. That’s all.”

“Are you sure?” he said, voice turning deceptively casual, “That this isn’t related to the marriage of General Victor Hagen and Princess Astrid Hargarson of Shadowfen?”

My stomach dropped. What does he mean?

“General?” I repeated.

Hunter nodded. “Your ex-fiancé was promoted before the wedding. Shadowfen wanted him ‘worthy’ enough to marry into their royal bloodline.” He tilted his head slightly, studying my reaction. 

“King Erik has no sons. Only daughters. Astrid is rumored to be cursed as well, barren like the other shewolf here and there. So Victor’s future is… promising. A family with generational wealth. Power around the world. And you can’t deny it, he is a skilled fighter as well.”

I didn’t like where this was going.

Hunter continued anyway.

“The king granted him permission to take Astrid’s sisters as mistresses if necessary. And if that fails…” His lips twisted faintly. “Other noblewomen. Anyone capable of producing a male heir from King Erik’s family.”

My hands clenched at my sides.

That bastard.

“And,” Hunter added lightly, like he was discussing the weather, “your father approached him first.”

My head snapped toward him. “What?”

“He asked Victor to help bring you back,” Hunter said. “Apparently, you were too… difficult… for the guards alone.”

Heat flooded my chest, rage, humiliation, betrayal, tangling together.

“But you kept winning,” Hunter went on. “So when it became clear you wouldn’t return willingly, Victor accepted Shadowfen’s offer instead.”

So that’s why he replaced me so easily.

Why his promises meant nothing.

Fucking pervert!

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked quietly, searching Hunter’s face.

His expression became less teasing, more… intentional.

“Because you deserve the truth,” he said. “Because people here have a habit of leaving out important information when it comes to you.”

His eyes darkened slightly, almost glaring at him.

“Like your mother,” he added. “She never explained how the mating ritual works.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said quickly, turning away before he could read too much in my face. “I have no plans to consummate anything. You’re all free to do whatever you want. Just don’t interfere with mine.”

“And what are those plans?” he asked, then gestured towards the door.

I followed him into the dining room, reclaiming my seat where my half-finished meal waited. “Stop asking. I’m not telling you.”

Hunter moved behind my chair and placed his hands on the table, caging me.

He was close enough that I felt his warmth before he even touched me.

“Wouldn’t it be smarter to tell me?” he murmured near my ear as he reached past me for the wine bottle. His chest brushed my shoulder, bare skin grazing my arm. Sparks shot through me instantly. “Two heads are better than one.”

He poured wine into my glass slowly. Deliberately.

“I’m very capable,” he continued, voice dropping lower, rougher, “of helping you achieve whatever you want.”

I picked up the glass, trying to look unaffected. “And why would you help me?”

He leaned closer, his breath brushing the shell of my ear.

“Because,” he said softly, “your goals are tied to mine now… whether you like it or not.”

“And,” he added, lips almost grazing my skin, “I take care of what belongs to me.”

My heart slammed. I turned my head sharply to glare at him—only to realize how close his face was to mine.

Our noses nearly touched.

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

The air between us thickened.

For a split second… I forgot how to breathe.

“I don’t belong to you,” I whispered.

Hunter’s gaze lifted back to mine, slow and molten. “No,” he agreed quietly.

His fingers brushed my jaw, barely there, but enough to send heat spiraling through me. “But your wolf does.”

“My wolf is caged,” I said quietly. “She doesn’t even feel like mine anymore. It’s been years since I last sensed her.”

Hunter studied me, something softer flickering behind the usual confidence in his eyes.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. “Is that why you’re cold toward us?”

I let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Cold? I just met you tonight, and you expect warmth?” I shook my head. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

I opened my mouth to continue—

But suddenly his hand wrapped around my arm.

Before I could react, he pulled me up from the chair and turned me so I was standing directly in front of him.

He was too close…

“What are you doing?!” I protested, palms pushing against his chest. It was like trying to move a wall.

His other hand slid to my back, firm and possessive, pulling me flush against him. Heat exploded through my body where we touched, bare skin against bare skin through nothing but a thin towel.

“I’m trying to confirm something,” he said, voice low.

“Confirm what?”

“That you really can’t smell us.”

“I can’t,” I snapped. “I don’t smell anything. And I don’t believe any of you are my mates. How can someone have multiple fated mates, all Alphas?” I shook my head. “That’s ridiculous.”

A slow smirk curved his mouth.

“Too bad,” he murmured.

Before I could move, his head dipped into the crook of my neck.

He inhaled.

Deeply.

My entire body stiffened.

“Because you,” he said softly against my skin, warm breath sending shivers down my spine, “smell like licorice and cotton candy. Sweet… addictive… delicious.”

His nose brushed my pulse point.

“It makes me want to taste you,” he uttered before licking my skin.

Heat rushed to my face and lower, something I have been feeling since I saw the four of them earlier. But now, that feeling is getting stronger.

“I don’t care what you think I smell like,” I said, trying to push him away again. “Just leave me out of whatever fantasy you have, and everything will be fine.”

His arms tightened around me.

Immovable.

“It’s impossible to leave you alone,” he said, voice roughening, “because what I want… is you.”

My heart slammed. It was as if it wanted to get out of my body.

“If you truly can’t smell me,” he continued, eyes dark and intent as he pulled back just enough to look at my face, “then maybe we need to try another way for you to recognize your mate.”

A flicker of unease and curiosity ran through me.

“What way?” I asked, frowning.

His gaze dropped to my lips.

“This way.”

And then his mouth crashed into mine.

The kiss stole the air from my lungs.

I froze for half a second, shock, disbelief, outrage colliding—

But the moment his lips moved against mine, everything inside me shattered into sensation.

Heat.

Pressure.

Electric sparks racing from my mouth down my spine.

His hand slid up my back into my hair, tilting my head as he deepened the kiss, his tongue invaded my mouth as if searching for something.