Chapter 14

Darian's POV

Darian's jaw tightened as he moves down the corridor, legs heavy, boots hitting the ground with a little too much force.

His wolf is restless.

No, angry might be a better word for it.

Because she walked away. Away from him.

No one had ever done that before.

Darian replays the look on her face again and again. She looked… cold. Like last night never happened. Like she hadn’t melted, allowing him to kiss her senseless.

Like she couldn't feel the pull between them. It doesn't sit right with him.

He stops abruptly, lips pressed in a thin line. Why is he the one losing control?

He's Prince Darian, Alpha heir of Moonveil. She should.. she should be the one running after him. Craving his attention.

He continues forward again, fingers clenching and unclenching. He needs so badly to put her in her place.

The women behind him are hesitant now, no longer willing to follow any longer as they sense the anger that's brewing. His pheromones are leaking, already bordering on too much.

He turns behind, eyes dark. "Don't follow me."

They don't need to be told twice. Even Noble Astor's daughter, Kayla, stops in her tracks as they all turn down the opposite exit, watching the prince stride down angrily toward his chamber.

Shortly after he settles into the room, he sends for one of his most trusted guards. One that has trained with him on many occasions, occasionally standing watch by his door.

"Your Highness." The man says, lowering his head in reverence. Darian doesn't even acknowledge the gesture.

"Go down to the garden, call me maid Isabella."

If the man finds it odd for the prince to even know the name of a maid, much less call for her personally, he doesn't comment.

"Yes, your Highness." He bows, and leaves, the door clinking shut behind him.

Darian is restless, running a hand through his hair again and again, unable to sit still.

He needs to see her.

To tell her that she only belongs to him.

That she couldn't just...just walk away from him like that.

The ten minute wait feels like an eternity, until eventually, the hesitant knock stops his pacing short.

A low growl builds in his chest before he can stop it as he marches toward the door, pulling it open to reveal her.

No, not Isabella.

It's her...Kayla. Noble Astor's daughter.

She's holding a tray of snacks and wine, smiling softly, her confident eyes glinting.

"You looked tense, my lord." She began, "I only came to see how you were doing."

Darian's frown deepens. For crying out loud, couldn't anyone in this palace take a hint!?!"

He glares at her, trying his best to be calm. "Can you leave?"

She doesn't look deterred. If anything, she bats her long lashes, letting her pheromones leak into the air.

Before Darian can say another word, she slides into the room from under his arm, taking in the dark space.

"Hmmm." She hums, looking back at him. "Can't wait to live here with you..." She says shyly, looking at him from beneath her lashes.

Darian scoffs loudly, about to tell her off before a second scent hits him.

This one is distinct, alluring, his wolf instantly reacting to the sweet scent.

He knows her before the hesitant knock even comes. Darian's head instantly snaps toward the door, and Kayla notices it too, her brows knitting slightly thinking maybe one of the other potential mates had come too.

"Are you expecting some..."

"Just stay where you are," Darian cuts her off, voice low, already moving toward the door.

He reaches the door before she can say another word, pulling it open and there she is.

Isabella.

Beautiful, in even her maid's uniform.

She looks slightly breathless, refusing to meet his gaze.

Then her gaze shifts, behind him, landing square on Kayla. She sees the tray, the too thin clothes Kayla has on, and instantly thinks the worse.

She tries to mask it, but Darian can see through the facade.

"Y-you called for me, my lord?" she says, voice flat in a way that makes his brow arch.

Before he can respond, Kayla steps forward confidently, mischief already clouding her features. "I didn't realize you were summoning maids now," Her voice is light, but the way her gaze sweeps over Isabella is anything but.

She turns to Darian, hair between her fingers. "Should I come back later?"

Isabella looks away, fighting the urge to scowl and walk away, leaving Darian with the other woman.

Darian catches it.

"No," he says in a flat voice, facing Kayla. "You can leave now."

Kayla pauses, a bit surprised at the refusal. What services could this maid possibly offer that she couldn't?

"But I brought..."

"I said leave!" This time his voice is not polite. It resonates around them, shutting Kayla up in an instant.

Belle fights the urge to smirk…

Kayla doesn't leave immediately. She exhales, a fake smile plastered on her face. "As you wish, your Highness."

As she slides past Isabella, she turns one last time, eyes unimpressed, before rolls her eyes and walks away.

Isabella steps in after, the door shutting quietly behind her.

There's immediate silence. The heavy kind, Belle still refusing to meet the prince's gaze, well aware of how close they're standing.

If this isn't about work, my lord, then I should return to..."

"Why did you walk away?" His question cuts through her sentence.

She blinks, slowly meeting his eyes for the first time since.

"I don't understand..."

"Don't lie to me." Darian's voice drops an octave. "You saw me," he steps closer. "And then you left."

Belle takes a step backwards too, breath already growing heavier. "I had work..."

Darian huffs humorlessly. "Work?" He meets her eyes, the intensity of his gaze makes her squirm. "Since when are you so diligent, Isabella?"

Her brows draw together in irritation at the backhanded comment.

"I am a maid, Your Highness. That is my job."

Job. That word makes something in him snap, and he closes the remaining distance in one step.

"Then do your job," he murmurs, voice rough."And serve me."

She freezes. Serve him? What exactly did he mean by...serve?

Her confidence chips away, bit by bit, but she forces herself to straighten.

"What do you mean by that?" She hates the way her voice cracks at the edges. "My lord."

Darian doesn't seem to mind her tone, if anything he walks closer until he can feel the heat of her skin.

"You keep pretending you don't feel it," he drawls, "yet, you come here the moment I call. You get jealous when you see that woman around me."

He grips her chin, forcing her gaze up. "Why is that?"

Belle is panting at this point, chest rising and falling heavily. Her mouth falls opens, but no word come out.

Because she knows the truth though she wouldn't admit it out loud.

She's jealous.

Darian sees right through her act, and that's all the confirmation he needs that she feels it too. His grip on her chin hardens a bit.

"Have you stopped thinking about last night?" His voice is gravelly. "Don't lie to me..."

Belle refuses to give him the satisfaction, shaking her head slightly, her breathing is loud now.

"You're my prince. I don't have the luxury to..."

"Isabella." He warns, and the way her name rolls out his tongue stops her. The intensity, his hot breath on her face, it's driving her crazy.

Her legs tighten instinctively, breath coming out in sharp bursts.

"You can't run away from me from now on." he says again, grinding into her gently, but it makes her gasp. "Do you understand?"

She doesn't say anything. Doesn't tell him to stop, doesn't agree or disagree. just looks away, lips between her teeth.

But that's all it takes for the Darian's restraint to snap.

His hand slides from her chin down to her waist, pulling her even closer to him.

And then he closes the distance, crashing his lips against hers.