Wolf Prince

by Stephany Wallace

  press her against me, even though I wished I could. The slight feeling of blood seeping from the stab wounds reached me, but only a few of them, and not as badly as it had been last time.

  Zelin leaned closer, carefully pulling at the bandages, and taking a quick look at my stitches. “Only a couple ripped open, but it doesn’t look too bad. You are healing.”

  She lay her head over the pillow, instead of laying on my chest, and we held each other’s gaze a moment before I kissed her again, feeling my body awaken for her. Maybe waiting was going to be harder than I thought. Now that I could feel her like this, all I wanted was to kiss her, feel her, claim her. It was overwhelming.

  I pulled away from the kiss before my body got any clever ideas, it was already tingly for her, and pressed my cheek against hers. Reaching for my phone in the pocket of my sweat pants, I silently thanked the Goddess it had been in the car when I shifted for the fight, or it would have gotten destroyed.

  “Smile,” I urged, lifting my arm, and took a selfie of us with her in my arms.

  When I looked at the picture, I was surprised to find Zelin’s lips curved into a tender smile. She had actually smiled for the picture. Yet, it was the look of adoration in my eyes that startled me. The intensity of what I felt for her reflected in my eyes.

  Suddenly wanting to share something good with my parents, I opened our group chat and uploaded the picture. I’d shared my pain and troubles with them before, now I wanted to share my happiness. And with my mother being the only Moon Princess to ever mate with her guardian, I knew they’d understand.

  Placing a heart with a cupid’s arrow next to the image, I showed it to Zelin before sending it to them. “Are you okay with this?” I asked, making sure this wasn’t pressuring her in anyway.

  “You are such a girl,” she huffed, though there was a bright spark in her eyes.

  I laughed, instantly regretting it when the stinging on my ribs reminded me of my injuries, and watched as she reached for the phone screen, pressing send. Our foreheads rested together, and I kissed the tip of her nose at the same time my phone dinged.

  I turned to find a message from my dad.

  “Crap. Now I owe your mother fifty

  bucks. You suck.”

  The phone sounded again.

  “I knew it! Pay up loser. You are a loser cause

  YOU LOST. I won. I’m the winner. WINNER.

  #IRock.”

  Zelin and I chuckled at their banter, though nostalgia entered my chest. I missed them both.

  “What are you two doing?”

  I sent, suddenly wishing I was hanging out with them.

  “Take a wild guess.”

  My father texted, and I grinned.

  “You at the garage?”

  I asked, though I didn’t need him to say yes.

  The garage was a 1950’s inspired garage in the “basement” of the castle, which was filled with both the rarest collection of classic cars, and a variety of the latest most amazing rides available to man. It had been her dad’s sanctuary before he died, and my mom shared his love for the classics, so she spent any spare moment there, restoring old cars, or taking any of the others for a ride.

  “Bingo! Can you please talk some sense into

  your mother? She’s restoring a motorcycle. A

  MOTORCYCLE. If she thinks I’m going to let

  her get on that death machine once it’s ready,

  she has another thing coming.”

  “SIGH. Can you please tell your father, aka Mr. Drama Queen, that this is a 1924 AJS Model D Combo. No one is dying on this thing. The twins could drive it, for goodness sake!”

  Mom’s text was accompanied by a selfie of them in their mechanic overalls, with an old as hell motorcycle in the back that had been freshly painted. It was one of those you saw in black and white movies, with a big-ass side car, and it probably didn’t go over 40 miles an hour. Its color was a dark forest green, and the little side door was stamped in white with the words, “City police.”

  My mother had an unnaturally excited smile on her face, holding a recently polished set of handle bars, while dad had his arms crossed over his broad chest, with the signature Iron Knight scowl.

  Another laugh escaped me, though this time my sides didn’t hurt as much. Zelin was right, my healing had finally kicked in to gear. Though, I knew it would still be a while for me to be 100%, since I had basically been excavated on eight times—one per wound—but at least I was healing.

  The thought brought me back to the present, and what Zelin and I had to deal with still.

  “It looks awesome, Mom.

  I wish I was there to ride with you.”

  * * *

  “Traitor. I disown you.”

  I grinned at my father’s text.

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  “I miss you, baby. Love you!”

  My mother, added.

  “Give Zelin a hug from me, and please

  tell her we miss her too.”

  “I will. Take care.”

  Placing the phone down, I focused on Zelin and found her thoughtful. “Is everything okay? If you’ve changed your mind…” I let the words hang in the air because I really didn’t want to say them. I couldn’t even think of her not wanting to do this anymore, but I wasn’t sure how big the struggle was for her.

  She shook her head. “It’s not that… I just—”

  “You miss them,” I added feeling her nostalgia mix with mine.

  I kissed her nose again, pulling her closer to me. My dad had been her mentor. He raised her, training her to be just as ferocious a guardian as he was. They were really close so I knew how she felt, and not because I could feel her inside me, but because I knew who she was.

  “We can go back home for spring break, if you want,” I offered, feeling her emotion transform with my words. Her excitement flowed through me, even as she narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Are you trying to sweeten me up?”

  I grinned. “Is it working?”

  She snorted and stood, leaving my arms too soon. The second she grabbed her sword and turned to face me once more, the sweet and vulnerable side of her was gone, and the ferocious guardian in need for justice was back.

  “Time for the Alphas to face me.”

  With those words, she marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  10

  Zelin barged into the living room, seething, and causing everyone to jump off their seats, startled—even Len, Egon and the other four knights who had been there with the Alphas. I grunted as I walked in behind her, struggling keep up.

  Her hand flew towards the Alphas, and the sharp, rattling sound of metal crashing on the stone floor echoed in the room.

  “Give me one reason not to slay you all right now!” she roared.

  What was left of the large silver spikes from Logan’s gloves, rolled towards the Alphas’ feet. Their eyes flew down to the melted lumps—that Zelin had taken from Curtis on our way out here—and then lifted to see her stop before them.

  Zelin threw the leather gloves at them too, and they slapped against Walter’s chest with the force, then fell to his feet as he looked at her shocked.

  “Do you know what those are?” she demanded, and I watched the blood drain from Walter’s face as his gaze returned to the title floor, recognition entered his eyes.

  “They are a prototype designed for the crime unit. We call them silver claws.”

  “Tell me how they work,” she barked at him.

  The room was eerily quiet while I finally stopped behind her, with Audrick and Curtis by my side. I knew she could still feel the pain burning my insides from my frantic attempt to keep up with her in my state, but her rage was overwhelming everything else for her.

  Walter swallowed, his full attention on Zelin. “They are meant to be used in case any crime is committed by one of our own. The silver spikes detach, melting with the heat of our shifter bodies. They are not designed to kill, onl
y to inflict enough pain that they’ll immobilize the attacker instantly, but they are not approved for use yet.”

  Zelin blurred, and the next second, she stood barely a foot from Walter, holding one of the melted studs in front of his face. He took a step back, startled by her sudden appearance.

  “Tell me what it feels like for one of these to be carved out of your body.”

  His brows slightly gathered in confusion. “I don’t… I don’t know. I’ve never had one used on me.”

  “Me neither,” Zelin answered straightening, her expression becoming cold though she was far from cooling down. “And still, I can tell you not only what it feels like for eight of these to be carved out of your body, but I’d be delighted to relay the excruciating feeling of having its melted remains being scrapped from the raw skin of your insides one by one.”

  Letting the piece of silver fall to the floor, she took a step back just as her words clicked for Walter. His blue eyes desperately flew from her, searching the room until they found me standing directly behind her. Horror struck his expression as he took in the bloody bandages wrapped around my chest and torso.

  The poor man fell to his knees instantly. “No… He didn’t,” he whispered as his eyes widened with fear, rage, and pain.

  Everyone else’s attention shifted to me. The other Alphas gasped at the realization. My chest constricted as I almost felt Walter’s pain as a father. I wasn’t sure what was going on with Logan, but something told me it was much bigger than him just mourning his mother. There had to be more.

  “I gave your son a second chance, and this is what he does with it?” Zelin roared, bringing everyone’s attention back to her.

  “What the hell has Logan done?” Konrad Larson, the Illinois Alpha Chancellor demanded, and it was the wrong thing to say.

  Zelin’s head snapped towards him, and she stepped closer.

  “Oh, he wasn’t alone. Your three sons were there,” she added, looking at Ronald and Frederick too—the Alpha Mayor and Justice Chief. “I gave all of your sons a second chance. All of them. And still they ambushed us in the park with silver spiked gloves, laser point guns loaded with silver bullets, and pointed them at the Moon Prince’s heart. Is that the way you thank the crown for everything it’s done for you?”

  The men’s faces became pale while dread filled their eyes. They joined Walter on the floor, kneeling, and at the mercy of my Iron Knight, just as Zelin turned her head towards the door.

  “Bring them in!” she called through our bond, and the six knights who were missing from the room walked in, dragging Kyle, Nathan, and Samuel to the center of the room, and forcing them to kneel.

  Rod’s fist had branded the right side of their faces, the black eye might as well have been his signature. Their hands, however, had been tended to by Curtis, and they were wrapped with bandages too, but the burning mark of Zelin’s silver sword on Kyle’s neck had not been treated, left visible.

  “You almost took him from me!” Zelin roared at them, and I walked forwards, fearing what she would do.

  I had never seen her angered like this, and I was afraid she might in fact kill them all. I wasn’t exactly sure this was just her duty talking, it seemed like her emotions were getting in the way. Reaching her side, I stood straight, even though I felt the pull of the raw skin in my insides still trying to mend together. My attention remained on Zelin.

  “You have failed your sons, gentleman,” she told the Alphas, who didn’t even dare raise their gazes to her. “You failed them by not instilling in them the truths of our race. By making me out to be nothing more than a tale. You should have taught them better. If they knew who we were, they wouldn’t have challenged the Moon Prince. They would have never dared provoked me like they did tonight.”

  “Please don’t kill them…” I sent into our private link as my heart began to race, my insides filling with cold dread, but I got no response.

  “You are right,” Konrad, Samuel’s father, answered. “Their mistakes are our burden to bear. It’s our fault for not teaching them to respect the crown like they should, and for that I’m remorseful.”

  His gaze lifted to Zelin’s eyes.

  “I beg you for mercy. We’ll accept whatever punishment you inflict on them, but please don’t take their lives. Don’t kill our sons,” he spoke for all the fathers present, while the others looked at their sons—whose gazes remained on the floor.

  Friedrich’s eyes focused on Kyle. His gaze held a mixture of concern, disappointment, and hurt while he looked at the burnt mark on his neck—it was slowly healing.

  “You dare ask me for the Iron Knight’s pardon?” Zelin asked calmly, though her voice held a grave tenor.

  “I do,” Konrad replied, the weight of his request visibly falling on him.

  “Then give me a reason not to slay them right now after what they’ve done,” she asked again, her words low and chilled.

  My gaze went to Walter, who seemed to have lost all will for life as he idly stared at the leather gloves and pieces of silver still on the floor. A few stray tears had spilled from his eyes as he slowly shook his head, and I could almost feel his anguish tearing through me.

  “He’s my son…” Ronald answered. His gaze shifted from Nathan to Zelin. “They are our sons. They can learn from their mistake, given the chance.”

  Zelin stared at him for a heartbeat, considering it, but I wasn’t sure his reasoning was good enough for her. The shrill sound of her silver sword sliding out of her iron scabbard split the air.

  “Zelin, please,” I begged for them. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Her gaze connected with mine, her onyx eyes cold as ice. “Yes, I do.”

  “No, Z, you don’t. Please stop this… for me. I can’t have any more death around me. Please.”

  In one fluid movement she lifted her sword in the air and spun once, the stride was effortless, like a dance of death. I shut my eyes, my head turning away on instinct as my body became rigid—forcing a block on the vile images that threatened to return.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop my eyes from returning to Zelin when screams erupted in the room.

  My gaze caught her lowering her sword, the tip now dripping with blood, and my breath quickened. Alarmed eyes flew to Samuel, Nathan, and Kyle, but found them… alive.

  The thundering of my heart echoed in my ears, as my wide eyes roamed Kyle, Samuel, Nathan’s bodies. A wide slash ran across their chests, from one shoulder to their hip.

  I’d seen that before, Zelin had marked them for death.

  “Be extremely thankful for the mercy shown to you today. If King Eisen Ritter were here, you’d be picking up your sons’ heads from the floor,” Zelin warned the Alphas. “Do not misunderstand my clemency for weakness. Your sons have been marked for death. One more act against us and they will die at my sword.”

  Samuel and his friends clutched their sliced chests in shock, blood trickling between their fingers while their fathers hurriedly stood, helping them to their feet.

  “Thank you for your mercy, Iron Knight,” Fredrich offered, guiding Kyle off the floor.

  “It’s not my mercy you receive today. It’s the Moon Prince’s” Zelin replied tersely. “I have no mercy to give your sons.”

  Fredrich’s gaze move to me and he bowed, guiding Kyle out of the house. The others followed silently, not taking any chances, but Walter remained on his knees—broken.

  “May I please have my son’s body. I’d like to give him a proper burial, if I’m allowed to.”

  His voice was filled with so much pain that it made my eyes sting. Walter had assumed Zelin killed Logan, when he wasn’t brought out with the others. Zelin and I exchanged a glance, moving towards him in unison, and crouching next to him.

  “Logan isn’t dead, Walter,” I assured him, holding his arms to help him stand.

  “What?” he asked shocked, looking at Zelin as she helped me bringing him to the sofa.

  “I didn’t kill him, Walter,” she
confessed, the compassion I knew her heart held colored her voice. “I should have, given his crime,” she clarified, “but I didn’t.”

  He swallowed, nodding, and his eyes followed her gaze as she looked towards the door. Olis, bring him in.”

  With her call Olis stepped in, carrying Logan’s wolf form in his strong arms, and laying him out at Walter’s feet. His fur was matted with sweat—the blood already cleaned off him—and though he was unconscious, his body slightly trembled from the pain.

  “Half his body fractured when I pulled him off Gustav during the attack, and my claws raked his sides,” Zelin confessed, as Walter anxiously reached for his son.

  “I understand,” he answered nervously, not seeming to care as long as his son was alive. “Is he healing?”

  “Yes,” Curtis added. “I treated his side and shoulder injuries, making sure to also set his bones in the right place, so they can heal properly.”

  “I appreciate it.” Walter’s gaze went to Zelin. “Shoulder?”

  “That was me,” I confessed, cringing. “I bit him during the fight. I was trying to incapacitate him, so he would stop fighting.”

  Walter nodded, dropping his eyes to his son’s shaking form.

  “He’ll receive the same punishment as the others,” Zelin informed, pulling out her sword again. “Consider this my last warning.”

  Walter’s gaze became grim, but he nodded, flinching when Zelin sliced the wolf’s chest. Once she pulled away, he took off his jacket, pressing it to the wound as the whimpers of the wolf filled the air. A moment later his body transformed, until Logan was back in his man form. Still unconscious and quivering on the floor.

  Emory reached for the throw on the sofa, and placed it on Logan, covering him. With a nod from Zelin, Olis swept Logan off the floor again, and walked to the door to take him to Walter’s car.

  “Thank you,” Walter told us and rushed outside. It was the middle of the night, thankfully, so no one would notice him taking his unconscious and naked son into the car.

  I turned away from Zelin, resting my back to the wall as my own hands trembled against my torso—absentmindedly holding my injuries, though I could barely feel the pain anymore. Yet, I wasn’t sure if it was from my healing taking over, or the stress.