Binding ceremony

I yearned for the problems I had before I found out my mate was her, the werewolf girl who nearly killed me.

I'd thought my other problems were the worst I had until she came into my life.

My father might have thought this was some twisted game he could play with me, pairing me with the woman who nearly killed me to be bred to carry my future children. But one thing was certain: I would never touch that girl, let alone bed her. And the thought alone made my heart skip as the bond tugged in my chest. That was a lie. I wanted her as much as I wanted her gone from my life. 

I fought hard against the pleasurable thoughts my Lycan, and the bond, kept putting in my head. Why should I be thinking of laying with the same kind that murdered my brother?

My brother was the one meant to take the throne. Since a very young age, he'd been taught and raised to believe he would take after my father. But death took him from us. No matter how many people we killed in revenge for his death, we never found his killer.

Rosewyn's face surfaced in my mind, and my chest tightened with a prickle of discomfort. This was a huge sign of weakness — one that, if my father discovered, I didn't want to imagine what he'd do.

Pushing away those disturbing thoughts, I forced a smile onto my face and stepped into the tea room, where my mother, the Blackthorne Queen, sat sipping tea with her friends.

"Mother," I said, walking towards her. She sat on a beautiful green sofa, laughing at something her friend had said. When she noticed me, she lifted her head, and the smile on her face broadened.

"Lucian." She lowered her teacup onto the small table, and as I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek, her perfume drifted into my nostrils.

When I pulled back, she was still smiling. "Congratulations on your breeder mate."

"Mother."

"Now I have high hopes of expecting grandchildren."

I didn't want to continue this conversation. "When did you return?"

"Last night," she answered. "I would have stayed longer than usual, but I came the moment the messenger informed me of the girl. Rosewyn, is it?"

My mother had no idea of the circumstances surrounding Rosewyn — that the girl had tried to kill me. If she had known, that smile would have vanished, replaced by concern.

"Is she beautiful? I hope to have beautiful grandchildren."

"Yes, she is." Rosewyn's beauty was something I never had to second-guess. It was extraordinary, out of this world.

"When is the binding ceremony?"

"The binding ceremony." How had I forgotten there would be a binding ceremony between me and Rosewyn so soon? It would bind her to me like a ritual until her death,  she wouldn't be able to leave. The law existed for cases where breeders tried to escape after falling pregnant. No matter where they run to, they wouldn't be able to rest as they would seek their way back to us. Even the binding allows one to locate the breeder. And if Rosewyn was bound to me, she could never marry or lie with another male unless she wanted death for herself.

I despised the law and everything behind it.

Long ago, my mother and grandfather had built the idea of a new empire, one where Lycans ruled at the very top of power. Now, watching things grow twisted and worse by the day, I often wondered if my mother regretted that decision.

My brother was born during the war between the Lycans and the werewolves. Two years after my father won that war and claimed the throne, my mother gave birth to me. The two of us fell sick so often that the healers predicted we'd both die young.

Terrified he'd be left without a son to succeed him, my father tried for another child with my mother. But she could no longer bear one, and with rumors spreading that Lycan birth rates were dropping lower every year, he took another woman. From her, he began keeping breeders.

"We haven't fixed a date yet," I said.

My mother's friend started to say something, and she turned to listen.

"Alright, then. I came to welcome you home. I'm leaving now."

"Come by later. I have something important to discuss with you."

I nodded, turned, and left the room. Remembering the paperwork waiting for me, I started back toward my quarters when a small voice came from behind.

"Prince Lucian."

I turned slowly, frowning when I saw Rosewyn standing there. But she looked different — her lashes wet, as if she'd been crying, her cheeks flushed a deep pink.

Have you been crying? I wanted to ask, but with guards nearby, guards who reported straight back to my father — a question like that would raise suspicion. He'd want to know why I cared about a breeder's tears. And that was dangerous, because I couldn't let him find out Rosewyn was my mate.

Instead, I asked, "What is it?"

"Her royal highness, Princess Sylvia, requests you visit her at the library at the seventh bell."

"Seventh bell?" I frowned. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I was looking for you. I couldn't find you."

"You couldn't find him? Or you're intentionally testing my patience limit" A familiar voice cut in, and when I turned, Sylvia was walking towards me, a deep frown on her face, her eyes fixed on Rosewyn.