Chapter 20

Raven

Neil’s blue eyes were glazed over with alcohol as they lazily trailed toward me.

For a moment, he did nothing—just flicked his gaze across me, lingering momentarily on the plate in my hands before moving to my legs, my chest, my hair.

I flushed deeply, too frozen to move. Neil was being touched by another woman, her long golden hair spilling across his skin as she leaned down and nipped at his neck, and he was making no move to stop her.

But his eyes were on me.

Against my better judgment, I had admittedly put a bit of effort into my appearance before coming here. I had braided my hair into one of those intricate Lycan styles as best I could manage on my own, slipped on a deep green wrap skirt, and wore a white halter top that was the tiniest bit sheer.

I’d even adorned myself with a necklace, a dangly pair of earrings, and several bangle bracelets.

I guess I wanted to impress him, as stupid as that sounded.

But now I wished I hadn’t.

Finally noticing my presence, the woman sat up and clutched her scarf to her bare breasts.

“Who is she?” she asked, upper lip curling back to reveal her fangs. “Don’t you know to knock, servant girl?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words would come out. Neil just grabbed the woman by her hips and lifted her off of him, placing her on the bed beside him as he sat up.

“You should go.”

I swallowed hard and turned robotically, but Neil suddenly said, “Not you.”

I froze, my fingers tightening around the plate of fish that suddenly felt like a waste of time and resources. The woman huffed, muttering something vulgar under her breath, and sauntered out of the room. Her shoulder brushed against mine as she moved past me, and I saw a flash of those fangs again.

“Is that for me?” Neil asked.

Turning slowly, I saw that he was standing now. He was shrugging on a semi-sheer white linen tunic, but left it open in the front to reveal that tattoo and those muscles. Even from here, I could smell the wine on him.

For a few moments, I found myself unable to speak. Seeing him like that, with another woman… He wasn’t mine, of course, but the sight still left something hard and uncomfortable lodged in my throat.

Finally, though, I pulled myself together.

“Yes,” I said, stomping over to the table and setting the plate down with more force than necessary. “Ember told me about the rogues and your leg.”

“Oh?” Neil cocked his head and looked at me as if he hadn’t just been making out with another woman right in front of me. “So you cooked for me?”

“I was making some for myself, so I thought I’d share since you’re apparently injured,” I said with a wave of my hand. A blatant lie, but I was too angry right now to want to admit that I’d caught the fish and cooked them solely for him.

Neil simply nodded and sat down to eat.

I stood over him for a moment, unsure of what to do. He still smelled like wine and women, and there were even loose trails of red lipstick—or whatever Lycan women used to paint their lips—down his neck.

“What is it?” Neil looked up at me, completely oblivious. Was he really that dense?

“You’re… You’re engaged,” I suddenly blurted out. “Our situation is out of our control, but won’t Serena be upset if she finds out you’ve been sleeping with other women?”

Neil blinked at me as if confused, blue eyes still glazed. He chewed his mouthful of fish and swallowed, slowly, far too slowly.

Finally, he shrugged and speared another piece of fish on his fork and said, “I’m a prince. Do you really expect me not to have mistresses?”

My eyes widened. “Is Serena—”

“She is well aware of the culture of our people,” Neil cut me off. “You cannot tell me that wealthy Werewolf men do not have mistresses of their own…?”

I swallowed hard, blinking back tears as memories of that day sprang to mind. Nathan in bed with Dani. “It’s all transactional.” The unsympathetic looks in their eyes.

“I… It happens, yes,” I finally managed. “But it’s highly frowned upon. We’re a monogamous society.”

Neil harrumphed. “So I have heard. Ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” I spat out. “What’s even more ridiculous is having a woman who loves you and sleeping with another. That’s ridiculous. And selfish. And…” I paused, but not long enough to consider the word that I spat out next. “Savage.”

Just as they had that day I’d called Neil a barbarian, my words seemed to strike a chord. Neil slammed his fork down and shot to his feet, instantly towering over me like a mountain. I lifted my chin at him defiantly, even though my heart was pounding in my chest.

“Watch your tongue, jealous one,” he growled, his breath smelling of spiced wine and another woman.

I scoffed. “I’m not jealous,” I said, although my voice sounded far too watery for it to be convincing.

“You Werewolves might value monogamy, but that is not the case here,” Neil said, stepping back. I watched as he crossed to the nearby end table and poured himself a fresh cup of wine.

“Even if you have a fated mate?”

“‘I’m not jealous’, she says.” Neil shot me a look over his shoulder. “Fated mates are purely those who we are the most physically attracted to, and nothing more. Don’t flatter yourself.”

His words were venomous, but as he spoke, his blue eyes lazily swept over me, lingering for a moment on my hip. The skirt I wore was slung low, revealing the subtle swell there. I felt the urge to cover myself, but didn’t.

“Okay,” I said slowly, hoping that my expression hid that stab of disappointment that I felt—the same disappointment I’d felt last night in the hot spring. “But Serena—”

“Marriage between a prince and his chosen mate is for a strategic alliance and nothing more,” Neil cut me off. “Serena is well aware of this. She is no fool. ‘Love’ is not part of the equation.”

My jaw ached with how much I was clenching it. I told myself that I was just sorry for Serena, because she was marrying a man who had little—if any—affection for her.

But really, I think I was just sorry for myself. Although I wouldn’t admit that. Not to him, not to myself, not to anyone.

“I should go,” I said, turning and making my way toward the door. “Enjoy the fish.”

“It’s very good. Thank you.”

I felt the corners of my eyes burn at that, and I was suddenly glad to have my back turned. However, as I reached the door, I paused and said, “Thank you, by the way. For doing what you did… For taking me to that hot spring. I feel much better today.”

“Better, but not enough,” Neil said matter-of-factly.

Momentarily forgetting my sorrow, I turned to him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged and took another bite of his fish. “I took you to that hot spring because of how weak your wolf was. Unfortunately, she is still too weak for me to reject you.”

“Oh,” I muttered, my sorrow coming back full force. So he’d only done all of that so he could reject me sooner—not because he wanted to help me, or because he… liked me in any way. “I see. Well… thanks.”

Before my pain could show on my face, I whirled on my heel and flung the door open. I practically ran down the hall, just wanting to be alone in my room for the rest of the night.

Neil didn’t call after me, nor did he come to my room to check on me.

I suspected that he was with that woman again.

And as I finally drifted off to sleep that night after hours of tossing and turning, images of her lips trailing across his limbs filled my subconscious. But it wasn’t just her lips on him that seeped into my dreams…

It was the memory of his drunken eyes on me, unabashedly sweeping across my body, even as another woman straddled him.

In my dream, I snapped my fingers and the woman disappeared. And suddenly I was in her place, and his palms were digging into my hips.

“This is purely physical attraction,” he said as he hooked his finger into the tie of my skirt and loosened it. “Nothing more…”