Chapter 8 What The Hell?
Adrian’s POV
Morning hit like a slap.
I was already on the throne, legs spread, elbows on my knees, staring at the marble floor like it owed me answers.
Four council members sat on the chairs to my left and right, old men in dark robes, pretending to look important.
In front of me stood Caroline. Same woman I’d fucked once, one drunk night a year ago. She held a baby boy on her hip. The kid had my eyes…storm-gray, wide, impossible to deny. He sucked on two fingers and stared right at me.
Last night I’d seen them and my brain short-circuited. I couldn’t speak. Just turned and walked out. Let Thomas deal with the mess. Now the mess was back and I had to face it.
Why now? I was finally fixing things with Abby.
Finally trying to be the mate she deserved. I’d had dozens of women in my bed before her, but I was always careful…potions, condoms, pull-out, whatever. One night with Caroline shouldn’t have made a kid. So how the hell was she here with a baby that looked like mini-me?
One of the council members, George, cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, the lady claims…”
“I heard her last night,” I cut him off. My voice sounded rough, like I’d swallowed gravel.
Caroline shifted the kid higher. “He’s yours, your majesty. I didn’t plan to come, but I’m tired of hiding. He needs his father.”
The council started whispering. I tuned them out. My head was already back in last night, after I’d left her standing there.
I’d dragged myself towards our bedroom like a kicked dog. Shoulders down, stomach in knots. The old me wouldn’t have cared what Abby thought. I’d have laughed, shrugged, maybe even bragged about having a son by another.
But now? Now I needed her to tell me that she won’t leave me or shut me out. Needed her to hold my head in her lap and say she forgave me. Needed her to tell me to breathe before I choked on my own guilt.
I knew she wouldn’t.
Not after everything I did. Not after what I let happen to her. She had every reason to hate me. Every damn reason. Unless I tore myself apart and laid it all at her feet, she’d never look at me again. And I’m willing to do that if only she will accept me.
The worst part? She didn’t even seem affected by the mate bond. Like it meant nothing to her. What if she rejects me? I haven’t even marked her yet. The thought made me sick.
I couldn’t sit still. I paced that hallway like a madman, running my hands through my hair, trying to breathe through the panic crawling up my throat. Every second without her felt like punishment.
Finally, I forced myself to our door. My hand shook on the handle. When I pushed it open, the room was dark…cold. My chest tightened.
Maybe she just didn’t want to see my face. And honestly, I couldn’t blame her.
My vision adjusted and I saw her.
She was in bed, curled tight, sheet pulled to her chin. Dead asleep. Didn’t twitch when I stepped in.
Used to be, back when she slept in the attic, she’d jump up in terror the second the door moved…like she was waiting for the next hit. Now she slept deep, safe. That hurt in a good way.
I stripped naked and slid in behind her. My wolf, Derek, was going crazy…Forget Caroline, forget the kid, just touch her and we will be alright.
I pulled her warm, naked body against mine, skin to skin. Her back to my chest. My arm locked around her waist. Derek sighed like he’d been holding his breath for hours.
How did I miss this? How did I not know she was my mate the first I saw her? I sent a thought to Derek.
How were we so stupid? We never felt her, never caught her scent. How were you so stupid?
Derek growled low. Spell. Had to be. Someone blocked us.
Yeah, I agreed. Obvious now. It has to be a spell.
I told myself I’d let her sleep. I lied.
I couldn't keep my hands still. One slid up under the covers, cupped her breast. Heavy, soft, perfect. She made a little sound in her sleep and arched into my palm. Her ass pushed back, sliding right against my cock…already rock hard and leaking. I groaned into her hair.
The mark on my neck burned like fire. She’d marked me unexpectedly…claimed me…and now I was hers. Completely. The thought alone made me ache even more. I had no control left. Every breath, every heartbeat, belonged to her now.
I looked at her sleeping beside me, so calm, so far from the chaos tearing me apart. I wanted to mark her back, to make sure she could never walk away.
To make sure everyone knew she was mine.
But I couldn’t. She’s a princess. Without her permission, my mark would mean nothing. It would be wrong.
My hand brushed the mark on my neck, and it burned again. She’d marked me so easily, like it cost her nothing. And it never faded.
Why?
Maybe because deep down, I’d already given her permission. Maybe a part of me was already hers before she ever touched me.
I gritted my teeth, tried to stay still. Failed. My hand moved lower, fingers slipping between her thighs. She was wet…dreaming about me maybe. I really hoped so.
I rubbed slow circles on her clit. She gasped, legs falling open, pushing harder against my hand. Her hips rolled like she was riding my fingers. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, fighting the urge to flip her over and sink balls-deep.
I kept rubbing, faster. She whimpered, body shaking despite still asleep. My cock slid between her ass cheeks, slick with pre-cum. One thrust and I’d be inside. Just one. I growled, pulled my hand and body away, fisted the sheet instead. Barely held on. I couldn’t have her like that.
She’s my woman. Not a whore.
“Your Majesty.” The voice snapped me back.
Fuck I was still in the throne room. Council meeting. I blinked hard, looking around the room like I had just walked in. Caroline. Her kid. Still here. I was desperately hoping it was a nightmare.
My hand was clenched on the armrest so hard the wood almost cracked. But that wasn’t the only thing so hard that it could crack.
I fucking need my mate.
I leaned forward, pushing the ache back. “If I remember correctly, Caroline, I used protection that night…no?” I asked coldly, not batting an eye in the boy’s direction.
“Yes, your majesty. But accidents like this happen all the time,” she responded.
The council murmured louder this time…words like scandal, royal insult, succession, heir, hissing through the room.
I looked at Caroline carefully. The she-wolf I’d buried myself in the night Abby first arrived, the night I’d laughed at the idea of a wolfless bride and chosen her to warm my sheets instead.
She lifted her chin high, eyes shining with triumph and terror.
“Your majesty,” Her voice cracked on the title, but she forced it steady. “He is your son. Your heir. The prince you never knew you had. Why would I lie about this and risk having my head cut off?”
The words detonated inside my skull.
Son. Heir. Prince.
My wolf howled, a sound that rattled the chandeliers and everyone stilled.
I took one step forward, claws punching through my fingertips, blood dripping onto marble.
“You dare,” I snarled, voice shredded, “you dare bring a bastard into my hall and pose him as my heir?”
Caroline flinched, but the boy didn’t. He just stared, thumb in his mouth, gray eyes unblinking.
“He’s not a bastard, your majesty,” she whispered.
“He’s yours. Look at him. Look.”
I looked again. And the world tilted. But I refused to accept it. I couldn’t.
“Give me proof that the boy is mine. Get me a DNA report. Immediately.”
Caroline opened her mouth to answer but the huge doors slammed open with a bang that echoed off the walls.
My mate stumbled in, hair wild like she’d just rolled out of bed, wearing nothing but my black shirt…hanging to her thick thighs, sleeves past her elbows. Bare feet padding across the floor, eyes half-open and squinting against the light.
She scratched her head, yawned loud enough to shake the walls, then shouted across the room like we were alone.
“Hey, fangs man…why can’t I find my underwear?”
A sudden silence washed over the hall.
Jaws dropped. Everyone in the hall froze, eyes wide, mouths opened in shock.
And me?
I just stood there, torn between pride, panic, and the overwhelming urge to laugh.
What. The. Fuck.