Chapter 3 Chapter 3
KILLIAN
This party was such a bore.
I heaved a sigh, swirling the wine in my glass as the man next to me droned on about some business collaboration I couldn’t care less about. It had to be clear that I wasn’t interested in this conversation, but it seemed like he wanted me to spell it out for him.
Fabien, my closest friend and advisor, had been the one to suggest we attend this party so I could unwind because he’d assumed something was making me antsy. All it had done so far was annoy me since there were more people I hated here than people I could tolerate, and I planned to leave soon.
He was right about me being antsy though. It’s been exactly a year since my mother last showed up in my dreams. She’d been dead for fifty years and every day that passed without her showing up chipped away at what little calm I had left. I knew how unhealthy it was — sleeping just to see her, to talk to her — and I knew I had to let her go, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
“Your Highness?” the man next to me called and I blinked at my glass before fixing him with a hard stare. If I’d simply hated him, I would have at least tried to listen to whatever he had to say, but he was completely loyal to my stepmother. His spiel about a business collaboration was either something she put him up to or he came up with it to earn her goodwill, so I was sick of him hanging around me.
He nervously shifted from one foot to the other before bowing. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness.” With that, he walked away, and several people immediately averted their gazes from me when I got to my feet.
“You scare them, rogue prince,” a familiar voice said after I walked over to a table to drop my glass on it.
“Good.”
Celeste came from behind, placing her hand on my shoulder as she rounded me. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulder, and her dress was the same silver as her eyes.
“I haven’t seen you in almost a year,” she said with a smile, flashing her fangs.
“You know where I live.”
“I called. I texted.” She slid her hand from my shoulder to my chest, her eyes bright with invitation as she edged closer until her body grazed mine.
I wasn’t in the mood. “I saw.”
She raised a brow at my stiff response before letting her hand fall to her side and taking a step back. That was one of the things I liked about her — she was good at discerning a mood.
Celeste and I grew up together, but we didn’t really start interacting until five years ago. I wouldn’t say we were friends though because we only reached out to each other whenever we needed one of two things: information or sex. I also wouldn’t say she was one of my people because like some of the people here, she wasn’t loyal to me. She wasn’t loyal to my stepmother either, and she wasn’t going to choose a side until she figured out which side would take the throne.
Celeste Mercer was completely self-serving.
“...Is everything alright?”
I gave her a small, lazy smile. “Are you worried about me?”
She set her mouth in a hard line and glanced away for a moment, shaking her head slightly. “I’m worried for you, Killian,” she said, a line between her brows, and I had the urge to snort. Placing her hand on the side of my face, she continued, “I guess in a way, I’m worried about you.”
“That’s odd.”
“Depends on how you look at it.” After a beat of silence, she gently placed her hand on my arm. “Do you want me to go home with you?” Her tone was suggestive.
“No.”
She tipped her head to the side.
“I’d rather be alone than deal with you.”
Celeste blinked at me for a moment, then her smile widened a fraction. “So cold. Call me if you change your mind.”
“I won’t,” I replied flatly, and she shrugged before pressing a kiss to my jaw and walking away.
That was my moment to leave, so I headed down the stairs. As I walked past a couple of humans acting as blood bags for the party, I glanced around, looking for Fabien, but instead of him, I found my uncle laughing with a couple of guests.
I tilted my head, a bit surprised to see him here because he didn’t like parties, and when his gaze met mine, he immediately excused himself from the people around him.
“There you are,” he said, a warm smile on his face, as he got to me.
I returned his smile. Unlike my relationship with my father, my relationship with his brother was great.
“You’ve been looking for me?”
“I heard you’re not going to be at the diplomatic gathering,” he replied and I raised a brow.
“...What diplomatic gathering?”
He clicked his tongue and glanced around before gesturing for me to follow him into one of the rooms close by. It turned out to be an office and the moment I shut the door, a red sheen rippled across the floor, walls, and ceiling, courtesy of my uncle. He was using his powers to make sure no one could listen in on our conversation.
“Starting tomorrow, your father will be holding a diplomatic gathering with the werewolf packs and he requested for each pack to be represented by a child of the Alpha in power.”
I frowned. I wasn’t close with my father, but it was obvious that it wouldn’t just be a diplomatic gathering. He had something else planned — most likely something sinister — and the werewolves probably knew it too. They wouldn’t ignore his request though because they didn’t want to incur his wrath.
“He’s holding this event for Sennet,” he continued. Sennet was my half-brother. “And it isn’t just a diplomatic gathering; it’s a tournament. If things go according to your father’s plans… it won’t end well for you. You have to go back to the palace.”