Chapter Six: The Night I Met Him

Nico’s Point of View

The glass slipped against my lips, the bitter alcohol spilling down my chin, trailing onto my arm, and dripping to the floor. Maybe that was the universe telling me I’d had enough.

But how could I stop?

Did my father ever truly love me, or was I nothing more than a pawn for the kingdom—used, discarded, and forgotten? The thought cut through me as sharply as the burn of liquor in my throat.

The red and blue lights of the bar bled into one another, smearing in my vision. My eyes struggled to focus, yet I kept drinking, denying what I already knew. Alcohol was the only thing dulling the reality I could not escape:

In less than forty-eight hours, I was to be married to a man I barely knew.

The weight of it was suffocating. Wolves were not humans; they were stronger, sharper, more resilient. And yet here I was—drunk, lost, and weak, no better than the humans I claimed to look down on.

With an effort, I pulled myself off the stool. My legs wobbled as they touched the ground, and I stumbled toward the palace. My head spun with each step, but somehow, I made it back to my chambers. The bed welcomed me, its softness pulling me in as I clung to it like it was the only thing holding me together.

“Why is it so dark?” I muttered, frowning at the dim room. It was mine, yet it didn’t feel like mine. Shaking my head, I stripped off my clothes and staggered toward the bathroom.

“This isn’t your room, Princess Nico.”

The sharp voice snapped me out of my haze. I turned, blinking. Nelson stood near the doorway, his expression frozen in shock as he took in the sight of me.

“You’re drunk,” he said flatly.

I moved closer to him, every step releasing the pungent scent of alcohol from my breath. My body swayed, my bare skin brushing against the air, my nipples hard against the chill. His eyes flickered, but he stayed rooted where he stood, refusing to move or even blink.

My hands reached for his face, desperate, reckless. I leaned in, my lips aching for the taste of him, but his grip caught my wrists, holding me firmly in place.

“I won’t stoop so low as to take advantage of a drunken woman,” his voice was steady, cutting through my fog.

A bitter laugh slipped from me, my lips curving into a taunt. “I thought you wanted me. Let’s fuck.”

I pushed against him, forcing him toward the bed. And then… everything blurred. The rest was a haze of heat, of mistakes I couldn’t undo.

The next morning, I woke with a pounding headache. Light sliced through the room as though someone had raised the blinds too high. I groaned, rubbing my temples. Every inch of my body ached—from my legs to my back and…

My core.

My eyes snapped open. I sat up, fully alert, my heart slamming against my ribs. The air felt heavy, thick with the memory of what I had done.

No. No, no, no.

I staggered across the cold tiles, the chill biting at my bare feet. My reflection glared back at me in the marble floor—messy hair, swollen lips, and a look of shame that I couldn’t wash away.

“Fuck,” I whispered as the memories slammed into me. Nelson’s hands. His lips. His body thrusting into mine. My moans—loud, raw, betraying the walls I had built around myself.

I buried my face in my palms. What had I done?

It wasn’t just a one-night stand—it was with the man I had rejected, the one I swore I’d never want. My mate.

My mind rushed back to the heat of that moment, our lips entangled, and the moment he kept pounding and thrusting into me, my moans mixed the melody of what lustful desires could be , Was it my loud moan or the way my body felt when I was with him…

"Could I differentiate between how love and responsibility felt?" I guess there were two words that could never meet, and I pondered what it would be like to just be in love, to freely let the bird in me fly.

A sob pressed at my throat, but I swallowed it down. What was love, and what was duty? Could I even tell the difference anymore?

The door burst open, and Clara rushed in.

“What’s wrong, Clara?” My voice was flat, though inside I was breaking.

“I almost lost my job yesterday, Princess Nico! I searched everywhere in that bar, but you vanished. Then suddenly, I find you asleep in bed.” Her words tumbled out in frustration.

I forced a weak smile. “I was drunk. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” she snapped. Her eyes raked over my disheveled hair. “Mr. Nelson said—”

The door creaked again, and there he was. Nelson.

My heart stopped.

The faint stretch of his abs peeked from beneath his half-buttoned shirt, the blue fabric hugging him like it was made just for him. My throat went dry.

Clara excused herself quickly, leaving me alone with him. I averted my gaze to the wall, anywhere but his eyes, as my heartbeat thundered in my chest.

Was I… falling for him? My enemy?

But I was getting married soon. I couldn’t afford to feel this way.

“Father, lead me not into temptation,” I whispered to myself, as if the prayer could save me.