The Bastard Wolf

* Dorina *

When my Queen mother asked me to sit down, I already knew that something was wrong. She watched me with careful and worried eyes.

I stood in the sitting room beside the royal library, my hands clasped so tightly that my fingers began to hurt. My father sat behind the desk, calm in the way that always meant danger.

"Princess Dorina," he said in formality.

I sighed. "If this is about my future, Father, I already hate it."

My mother winced, but my father did not. "You are twenty-two," he said. "You are my daughter, and don't forget that I am the Alpha King. I am worried that until now you are still unmarried."

I cleared my throat. "Unfortunately, I am aware of that, Father."

His jaw tightened. "Your twin brother has been married since last year, Dorina."

"My brother is a man." I reasoned.

"And you are a princess."

I folded my arms. "That sounds like a problem for everyone else."

My mother spoke gently. "Your father has chosen someone for you."

My stomach dropped, my brows furrowed when I looked at my father. "Who?"

There was a few moment of silence before he answered me.

"Alex Ashbourne." He calmly declared.

I knew the name. Everyone knew him in the Palace. He was the Alpha of Southern Ridge. Powerful and respected. Handsome enough that women sighed when he entered a room. Alpha wolf that my father would call the ideal man for me.

"No," I said at once.

My father's eyes sharpened. "Not so fast, Dorina."

"I don't want to marry him.” I shook my head

"Alex is loyal to the crown. He is wealthy, intelligent, and from a strong bloodline."

"That sounds wonderful for him."

My mother looked pained as she spoke. "You barely know him, sweetie."

"That is exactly the point."

My father leaned forward. "You will get to know him."

"And if I don't like him?"

"You will learn to." Something in me went still. My father had taught me to ride a horse, to spar, to speak before nobles without trembling. He had once told me no one would ever decide my life for me. Now he was doing exactly that.

"Is that what you told Mother when you married her?" I asked quietly.

My mother looked away. My father's jaw flexed. "That is different."

"Why?" I asked him.

"Because your mother and I loved each other."

"Then why can't I have that?" I quickly asked.

He had no answer. "I am not asking you to marry him tomorrow," he said at last. "But you will give him a chance."

"And if I refuse?"

His gaze hardened. "Then you will disappoint me."

That was worse than anger. My father never needed to threaten me. He only had to sound disappointed in me, and I would change my mind. But that won't work now.

"Thank you for telling me." Then I took a step back and walked out before they could see my face break.

I made it to my chambers before I screamed into a pillow. Alpha Alex was not cruel. He was perfect enough that no one would understand why I refused him. I don't love him. I don't even know him. Yet everyone expected me to accept him because he was suitable.

I stood, wiped my face, and made a decision so reckless it almost felt like relief. If my father wanted to force me into marriage, I would choose the wolf first. I pulled on a plain brown cloak, took the pouch of gold hidden beneath my bed, and climbed out of my window at sunset. I landed badly in the rose bushes; I let out a curse and kept going.

My plan was simple: find a wolf willing to marry me, pay him in secret, and return to the palace with a husband my father had not chosen.

It sounded reasonable in my head. By the fourth evening, after two days of travel and one night sleeping in a stable, I reached the place called Greyhound Place, a town known for wolves who preferred their business unspoken. At its center stood a beerhouse with a black wolf carved into the sign.

The Bad Wolf, is the name of the place. I had heard the stories about this area. But it's my first time here. I pushed open the wooden door to get inside. The room went silent when I got in.

I could smell the smoke, sweat, and danger that filled the air. Men who were sitting stared at me. But I ignored them and walked to the counter.

"Hello, are you the owner of this shop?"

The bartender smiled and shook his head. "No, Miss, but the owner is inside, so I could call him if you have an appointment with him."

"No need." I gulped down a lump in my throat, then gathered enough courage to speak. "I am looking for a wolf who is single," I said.

The bartender blinked. "Pardon, Miss?"

"I need a decent male wolf."

A few wolves who heard me from nearby tables froze their hands; a few coughed in their drinks after a few seconds, and then they all laughed. I lifted my chin and set my pouch of gold on the counter.

"I am willing to pay."

That stopped the laughter. They have noticed that it wasn't a joke; I was serious. Then a voice came from behind me. I did not notice a man was looking at me intently until he spoke.

"Careful, princess."

I turned to look at him. My blood turned cold at the sound of his voice. It was deep and masculine and could not be ignored, held with strong dominance. My eyes slowly moved up and down at him.

The wolf I was seeing was tall, broad-shouldered, and unfairly handsome. Dark hair, his chin darkened by stubble, rolled sleeves, blue eyes that looked amused and dangerous at once.

He glanced at my cloak, then at my face. "Girls who walk into my beerhouse asking for male wolves usually regret it."

"I am not just any girl."

His mouth curved. "Of course I know that."

"I am a woman and a Princess."

"That's what the girls always say," he smirked. He must not have recognized me. Did he just call me Princess without knowing I am actually one?

The bartender choked with laughter. I glared at him.

"You are rude and arrogant."

"Yes, that is me." his mouth curved upward.

I should have hated him immediately. Instead, I hated how attractive he was that I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Then the door of the beerhouse opened again. Five men entered, dirty and hard-eyed. Rogues! I gritted my teeth when I caught a whiff of their unpleasant scent.

The room changed at once. They walked towards the counter. One of them looked at me and smiled. "Well," he said. "Look what we have here."

Another sniffed the air. "I smell royal blood."

My heart stopped. "A Princess," the first rogue said.

The handsome man moved in front of me before I could breathe.

"Leave, now," he said.

The rogue looked at his companions and then laughed. "Or what?"

"Or I become annoyed."

But he didn't wait for the rogue to speak again. He lunged first. I barely saw the fight, only the blur of fists, bodies, and a table splintering under someone's weight. One rogue grabbed my arm. I gasped and pulled back.

Then he was there, his hand locked around the rogue's throat. His eyes had turned into gold. He hadn't fully transformed yet; he didn't have to, with how strong and skilled he was at fighting.

The wolves in the bar just leaned their backs on their seat. No one interfered, and a few of them seemed to enjoy the sight.