Chapter 35 35
I’d barely changed into the ridiculous satin nightgown Sugar had shoved into my arms when the knock came. No, not a knock. More like a bang. My door rattled in its frame.
“Margaux.” His voice was a low growl, threaded with his wolf.
Oh great. Here we go.
Before I could even yell come in, the door opened, and there he was—Gregor, storming in like a thundercloud in gray sweatpants, barefoot, eyes glowing faint gold. His wolf wasn’t just close to the surface; it was pacing the damn balcony of his soul.
“What the hell was that earlier?” he snapped, shutting the door behind him.
I blinked innocently from where I sat on the edge of the bed, pretending to admire my painted nails. “You’ll have to be specific, Alpha. Do you mean my fabulous fainting spell, my Hermes bag monologue, or the unicorn bedsheet demand? Because frankly, I nailed all three.”
His jaw tightened so hard I swear I heard enamel crack. He prowled closer, every step heavy, deliberate, like he was trying not to lunge. “Sugar was baiting me. And you—” he jabbed a finger at me, voice rising “—you let her. You encouraged her.”
I tilted my head. “Wow. Someone needs a calming tea. Maybe a spa day. Do Alphas get PMS?”
His wolf snarled through his chest, rumbling like distant thunder. “This isn’t funny, Marigold. You saw me. You saw how close I was to losing control. And yet you—” He broke off, fists clenching, eyes blazing gold now. “Why do you let her rile me up like that?”
I stood, squaring my shoulders, because screw being intimidated. “Because she’s helping me, you ass. She’s training me to survive in a palace where every single person wants me dead if I slip up. Excuse me for needing a crash course in royal tantrums!”
He loomed closer, his scent—dark pine and storm—curling around me, making my stomach do very inconvenient flips. “You think playing games is worth risking my wolf tearing this place apart?”
I jabbed a finger right back at his chest. “Wow, dramatic much? You didn’t tear anything apart. You huffed. You puffed. You turned into Alpha McGrowly Face. Congrats, you’re scary. But newsflash: I’m not afraid of you.”
Something in his eyes flickered—half fury, half something hotter, darker. He leaned down, close enough that I had to tilt my chin up, close enough that my breath hitched. “Maybe you should be,” he rasped.
Oh. Oh no. My heart did a very traitorous little flip.
I scoffed, biting my lip to cover the fact that my entire body was buzzing like I’d swallowed lightning. “Or maybe you should stop acting like a douche every time Sugar makes you jealous.”
His nostrils flared. “I am not jealous.”
I arched a brow, smirking because I couldn’t help it. “Really? Because you almost mauled a prince because I pretended to faint into his arms. Sounds pretty jealous to me.”
He slammed a hand against the wall beside my head, caging me in. His wolf’s heat radiated off him, fire licking over my skin. “Careful, Marigold. You’re playing with fire.”
I swallowed, but forced myself to sass because otherwise I’d melt right there. “Good thing I like it hot.”
For a heartbeat, the air crackled between us—thick, electric, the kind of silence where one wrong move could turn into a kiss that would ruin everything.
Then Sugar’s voice screeched down the hall: “Marigold! Do you want the emerald tiara for tomorrow or the diamond one?!”
We both jumped apart like guilty teenagers.
I crossed my arms, cheeks blazing. “Saved by the sass fairy.”
Gregor’s wolf snarled low, and he muttered, “This isn’t over.” Then he stormed out, leaving me breathless and cursing at my own heartbeat.
Two minutes. That’s how long I had to collect my dignity after Gregor stormed out and left me standing there with my cheeks hotter than dragon fire. Two whole minutes before chaos came crashing right back into my life.
The door swung open like it was a Broadway stage entrance, and in came her highness Sugar, strutting with a tiara in each hand like some sparkly warlord.
“Okay, babe,” she announced, completely ignoring my scowl, “emergency meeting. Do you want emerald or diamond for tomorrow? Emerald says ‘I’m mysterious and untouchable.’ Diamond says ‘bow down, peasants, I’m rich and probably judging your outfit.’ Thoughts?”
I blinked at her, deadpan. “My thoughts are: can we please not wave sharp objects near my eyeballs when I’ve just been threatened by an Alpha wolf with anger management issues?”
Sugar rolled her eyes and tossed the emerald tiara onto my bed. “Oh, please. That man looks at you like you’re the last cannoli at Nonna’s table. You’ll be fine.”
Before I could sass back, another knock came—quieter, but heavier somehow. The kind of knock that carried royal weight. And then Prince Leon slipped inside, tall, broody, cloak trailing. His eyes darted around the room before landing on me.
“Someone is watching,” he whispered, voice low enough it made the hairs on my arms stand up. He moved with sharp precision, crossing to Sugar and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I groaned out loud. “Oh my God. Really? Again with the public displays? You two need your own room, preferably soundproofed, because I don’t need a live reenactment of Fifty Shades of Royal right now.”
Sugar smirked at me over his shoulder. “Jealous?”
I threw a pillow at her. “Of what? Watching you two make out like teenagers? Please. My poor heart can’t take the trauma. I’ll need therapy.”
Leon, unbothered by my sass, straightened and looked at me with that calculating royal gaze. “If the spies believe I am sleeping here, in this room, with you, it buys us more time. The court will assume I cannot leave your side. That I am…” he hesitated, glancing at Sugar, “…madly in love.”
Sugar wiggled her brows at me. “See? You’re irresistible, babe.”
I snorted. “Yeah, sure. Nothing says ‘madly in love’ like me hogging the couch while your royal fiancé plays tonsil hockey in my bed. Very convincing.”
Sugar giggled, unbothered, and plopped onto the mattress, bouncing like a child. “Relax, Goldie. It’s perfect. Everyone thinks you’re Margaux. Everyone thinks Leon is your prince charming. Meanwhile, I get the perks—room service, gowns, tiaras. What’s not to love?”
I threw my hands up. “The part where I get murdered if I trip over my own gown in front of the king?!”
Leon raised a hand, calm as ever. “You’ll be fine. Just keep up the act. If they believe I cannot sleep without you, they will not question our… bond.”
I gaped at him. “Oh, excellent. So basically I’m your alibi, your cover story, and your body double for royal propaganda.”
“Correct.” He said it like he was complimenting me.
“Fan-freaking-tastic,” I muttered, dragging the blanket off the couch. “Fine. Sleep here, snuggle your human, make it convincing. But if I hear even one kiss sound while I’m trying to sleep, I’m throwing the tiara at your heads.”
Sugar gasped, clutching the diamond crown dramatically to her chest. “Blasphemy! No tiaras shall be harmed in your tantrums, Margaux 2.0.”
I gave her a death glare. “You keep calling me that and I swear—”
“—you’ll sass me to death?” Sugar grinned, already crawling under the covers with Leon, who looked two breaths away from scolding us both but wisely stayed silent.
I groaned, flopped onto the couch, and pulled the blanket over my face. “Kill me now. Or at least kill the spies outside so I don’t have to hear you two whisper sweet nothings while I pretend to be the prince’s emotional support wolf.”
From the bed, Sugar whispered loudly on purpose, “Goodnight, Goldie. Dream of emerald tiaras and Alpha abs.”
I threw the emerald tiara at the wall.