All Chapters of Bound To The Crown Prince: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

47 Chapters

Amber Strikes First

Amber's POVIt all happened the night they had gone for the royal hunting game.One moment, the thread of my spell was tight and snug in the mind of Xander, beating with the beat of his heart. I had tied him on that tether since we were sixteen. It was a subtle and cautious magic, the kind that no one can track. It made him see me softer, gentler. It whispered reminders into his blood that I was his destined Luna, that no one else could matter.On days that it falters, I use the oil on my neck and move close to him, enough for him to smell until it reminds him again. But that night, it snapped.I woke up with a scream and clasped my chest. The magic peeled away like a skin peeled off flesh, so I was left raw, gasping, and emptied.The bond was gone.And I knew why.The only way the spell could be undone that fast and painfully was if he had lain with his true mate.With him.The slave.The thought burned acid through me. I staggered to my mirror, my reflection was pale and trembling.

Chains Reforged

Edrian's POVI still reek of Xander when i pushed the door to the palace workers' chambers open. My lips were still hot where he kissed me, my chest where his hand was. It was the first time I was held, not as a slave, not as an object but as something close to a lover.Berry was humming softly inside me, content and hopeful. Maybe he’s changing… maybe we’re not just a mistake anymore.But then I froze.My room was swarming with guards. Their feet tore up my floor, their hands spread through my few possessions, and threw away my little dignity.“What are you doing?” My voice cracked, startled.Captain Ralden didn’t look up. He tore my sheets back, shoved his hand beneath the mattress, and pulled out something I had never seen before. A folded parchment with the wax seal cracked.“Found it,” he said grimly.“That’s Bloodfang’s sigil.” Another guard leaned close, eyes narrowing.“What? No...that’s not mine. I’ve never...” Confusion surged through me.But they didn’t listen. My arms were

The Wolf Breaks The Chain

Xander's POVThe dungeon smelt of mildew and iron. The swift glide of every stride was on wet stone walls. I’d walked these corridors many times, dragging traitors down here, but tonight it felt different. Too different.Because tonight, the one in chains was mine.The guards had protested when I ordered them gone, but one look from me was enough. I wanted no witnesses. Nobody would notice what I was going to.The heavy door creaked open. The smell of rust, antique blood, and damp hay filled my lungs... and there he was.Edrian.My mate. Chained like a slave against the wall.Iron cuffs cut into his wrists, and his arms were stretched across his head. His shirt had disappeared, his back marked with lashings by gods know who, bruises that blossomed purple on his ribs. His head was down, and chin upon his chest, but he flinched at the sound of my boots. Gradually his eyes widened, large, dark and trembling.And Feris snapped.They dared chain him. They dared treat what’s ours like a do

Trial By Moonlight

Edrian's POV The moonlight always had a way of creeping in between the cracks of the stone, no matter how deep the dungeon or how heavy the walls. I was lying awake in its bones of white, shackled memories ripping at my head in a much more effective way than iron shackles ever will.Xander had broken the cuffs the previous night, and the next thing I knew he was holding me, and whispering. He had strong arms, warm, possessive but soft, in a manner that puzzled me. I could still feel his lips on my scars, and I could feel his big cock at the back of my throat.And I despised myself that I needed that softness.Since what he did last night, forcing me to my knees and making me take him as if I was a toy to be used, he had torn open all the wounds I thought I had buried. It reminded me of the others.The masters.The first had been a nobleman with soft hands and dead eyes. He’d kept me in his wine cellar, always smelling of grapes and dust. His favorite game was lashing my back until it

The Taste Of Power

(Narrator’s POV)The courtyard of the DarkMoonCrest Palace had never been so quiet.Where laughter had been shrieking over the humiliation of Edrian, now was an awful silence, and the drip of blood upon the stones alone disturbed it, as Darius with his broken body spurted slowly down. The nobles looked with their pale faces and tight lips, jewelled hands clenching on pearls, on rings, on anything to remind them of their status.A slave turned into a beast right before their eyes.It was not only a beast, but a wolf of larger size than they had ever seen in many years...streaks of silver running through a dark coat and eyes burning red as blood, an air which made it necessary to bow down before it, even when covered with blood.At the edges, as usual, the whispers had started.“Impossible… a silver-streaked wolf with blooded eyes under the full moon? In a slave?”“Not just a wolf. Look at the size of him. He’s stronger than half the royal guard.”“It must be a trick. Some illusion.”“N

Magic

Amber's POVThey always made a mistake when they thought I watched from a balcony for the view.I watch because I learn. I watch because I collect the tiny tells...the way a hand tightens around a goblet, the micro-shudder at a whispered name, the way fear folds into pride like a bad marriage. Tonight the courtyard was a slow-broken thing... blood on stone, nobles with white faces, and a wolf that had torn the order of the world in two.I leaned on the stone balustrade and watched Edrian’s retreating shape as if it were an animal I had once trained and was now deciding whether to let live. He looked fragile up close...hands scarred, chest rising with some fevered memory. Yet the wolf that had risen in him had rearranged the whole palace. Prophecies had teeth, wolves had claws. They had both sat in the courtyard and bared them at me. I did not like being bared at.I remember when I told my grandmother someone was dangerous. "You're more dangerous Ambre. You're a beta wolf and a power

A Night Of Surrender

(Edrian’s POV)The palace never slept, yet somehow that night felt different. So still, that it seemed as if the walls too were silent. The rattling of court rumors, of me, of my wolf, of the trial...still lingered in the halls.However, all of that was gone when I was grabbed by the wrist in the corridor by Xander and he pulled off to his room without uttering a word. My heartbeat was louder than their chattering.He made no sound, the doors banged behind us, and he just dropped my hand and began to pace round the room like a man who was haunted by his own shade. His shoulders were set and his back was stiff, as if it were a storm that could not be held down even by a crown.“Why did you bring me here?” I swallowed.He raised his head and fix his storm grey eyes on me, what i could see in his eyes was a heavy hunger he could not even conceal.“Because I can’t keep running from this. From you.” His voice was low, almost broken.The words cut through me. I wanted to hate him for the co

The Curse Tightens

Xander's POVThe council-room smelled of smoke and incense, neither of which could overcome the odor of terror and politics.I sat at the upper end of the obsidian table, and gripped the cut armrests of my seat so hard that splinters pricked into my palms. The High Council had swirled round me like carrion birds, their robes rustling on the floor, their jewelled fingers shaking, as they grabbed scrolls and sigils.Edrian’s wolf still haunted them. His silver-streaked transformation and his howl under the moonlight. They pretended they were debating policy, but all I heard was their fear.“Your Majesty,” droned Elder Veynar, the one with the skeletal hands and the thin-lipped smile. “We must speak plainly. A king can neither share his bed, nor his bond with a slave."A murmur of acknowledgement rippled through the room."He is not a slave," I burst out before I could even stop myself. My voice snapped like a whip, stinging enough to shut them up. However, my father, the Alpha King, wh

Kael's Seduction

Edrian's POV Night had fallen calmly in the palace gardens, the lanterns swinging in the breeze, and throwing night shadows on the marble walks restlessly. I was there because I wanted to breathe fresh air...because the stone walls in my room seemed to me to make a prison, and my wolf pace, fussy, and sore.Xander hadn’t come to me. Not since the duel. Not since the whispers. Not since… that night in his chamber where he kissed every scar as if he meant to erase them. I had that memory like a brand on my skin, yet the man himself wasn't cold, but was distant.So I sat on the bench in the moonlit arbor, and looked at my hands, and wished I could peel the skin off and see what I really was. Slave? Mate? Curse? I didn't know anymore.“You sit like a ghost,” a voice drawled from the shadows. Smooth. Amused. Too soft for a threat and too sharp to be comfort.I stiffened. Kael.He made his way out of the hedged walk, making a deliberate step, his cloak trotting over the gravel, his was

Secret Of The Fallen House

(Xander’s POV)The council chamber reeked of incense and blood, as if the gods themselves couldn’t decide if this hall was meant for meetings or execution.My father sat on the throne, high-backed, carved in wolf motifs that clawed up toward the ceiling. I sat beside my father on the crowned prince's throne while I looked at the rest of the court from high up. The room is spacious enough, but it felt smaller every time Amber opened her mouth.“My King,” Amber began, her voice smooth and commanding, “the time has come. The people demand certainty. The alliance with my house cannot wait while the Prince dally with a… slave.”Her words sliced as sharply as a blade. Around her, the council nodded like vultures pecking at carrion. Old men with cold eyes, some loyal to my father’s decrees, others eager to see me stumble.“Watch your tongue, Amber. He is not a slave.” I clenched my fist against the armrest.Her smile was ice.“Then what is he? A king’s mate? A wolf of no house, no lineage,

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