Todos los capítulos de BOUND TO THE FORBIDDEN ALPHA PRINCE • BOOK II: Capítulo 41 - Capítulo 50

🩸WARREN🩸 Make me something to eat?! If I were capable of laughing, I would be laughing at myself right now, in front of my guard, walking away from a woman I had just handed an order I had no honest use for. Do I even eat? The question sat there unanswered while my boots struck stone in the same even rhythm they always found, my jaw tight enough that I felt the muscle pull along the side of my face. Food had never once mattered to me, not the way it mattered to men who needed it to survive the day. I performed the ritual of it at council tables and family meals because refusing outright invited questions I had no interest in answering, not because hunger of that particular kind had ever once driven me toward a plate in twenty-four years of living. What kind of excuse was that, sending her scrambling toward my kitchen no slave had ever once set foot inside, searching for flavors I could not have named if my own life depended on the answer. Damn it. "She was looking so beautifu

💫RAYNE💫 I stood over the pot longer than I needed to, stirring slow circles through porridge thick enough now to coat the wooden spoon in a heavy, even layer, steam rising warm against my face every time I leaned close to check it. Porridge soup. Everyone loved porridge soup. My mother used to make it on the coldest mornings back when she was still alive to make anything at all, thick with butter and honey stirred through at the end, and even Dahlia, who hated nearly everything I ever set in front of her, had never once turned her nose up at a bowl of it. Surely a man who did not eat could still be tempted by something this simple. Surely nobody, not even the Alpha Prince, could resist a food built entirely from comfort. I ladled a generous portion into the deep red bowl I found tucked at the back of a cabinet, set it carefully at the head of the long dining table, and stood back to admire the small, steaming victory of it. My hands still smelled of butter and oats, and somethi

💫RAYNE💫 We walked deeper into the forest, the trees thickening around us until the light itself changed color, gold bleeding into something dimmer and greener the further we went, the canopy overhead knitting closer with every step until sound itself seemed to travel differently beneath it, muffled and strange. Something was going to go wrong today. I did not know how I knew it. The certainty simply sat there, heavy and constant in my stomach, the same weight that had settled the moment I first saw red hair catching sunlight in a courtyard that was never supposed to hold anyone from my old life again. Emery walked close beside Warren, her hand curled loose around his forearm, her whole body angled toward him the way ivy angles itself toward the nearest wall to climb. He did not push her away. He did not so much as glance down at her hand resting against him, he simply let her walk there, let her stay pressed close to his side while his eyes stayed fixed somewhere ahead on the tre

🩸WARREN🩸 Jealousy looked good on her. I did not need to turn and look to know it. I felt it instead, sharp and sudden, arriving through the bond the second Emery's hand found my arm, something hot and possessive flooding straight into my own chest that did not belong to me at all. It came in fast. It came in ugly. It came in exactly the shape I wanted it to come in. Too good. I found myself wondering how many more times I could make her feel exactly that before she finally understood what she was trying so desperately not to want. Whether I would need to let Emery touch me a hundred times, a thousand, before the girl walking three paces behind us stopped pretending the flare in her own chest was something as simple as loyalty to a slave's proper place. The thought of that feeling claiming her again and again settled far too comfortably inside me. I could get used to that possessive little flare in her chest. The only thing I grew tired of was the fear that always chased direc

💫RAYNE💫 He continued cleaning the blood from my ankle like he hadn't just threatened to kill me. His fingers moved careful and unhurried, wiping the dried mess away in slow, deliberate strokes, and I stared down at the crown of his dark head bent low over my leg, my thoughts scattering too fast to land anywhere solid. If he truly wanted me dead, why had he torn a full-grown boar off its feet and hurled it into a tree like something weightless. Why kneel here now, on the floor of the one room in this entire pack house he had never once let another living soul enter, tending a wound that should have meant nothing at all to a man who apparently considered my very existence proof the Moon Goddess had erred. A short, disbelieving breath nearly escaped me, half a laugh, half something closer to despair. I swallowed it back down before it could take shape as sound. His hand paused over the swollen mess of my ankle, and my whole body tensed in anticipation, bracing before I even unders