Being the princess of all werewolves is not easy, but finding a mate is harder. Annabeth's royal life is turned upside down when she meets her mate, Kate.
Soon, she finds herself stuck between two choices: her duties to her family, and her love for...
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„She?" Rose asks again, and even though my eyes are fixed on the hands in my lap, I know she is staring at me.
My heart is racing, and my mouth suddenly feels dry. Is that how you feel when you've been caught doing something you were not supposed to do? I need to swallow, but there is nothing except my guilt and shame. I take a deep and shuttering breath as I raise my head to look at her and whisper, "I am so sorry."
I take in the assortment of hundredths of emotions pass her face in one heartbeat. I see the words sink into her consciousness, and the realization settles in. I want to look away, to get up, run and hide. But where would I go? Nowhere, because there is no other place for me than this house. Her house. Their home. I've invaded Rose's home in a way she never thought possible.
"Rose, I-" But I close my mouth again as I see her pursed lips, the slightly blank expression, and a bit of swirling confusion in her otherwise warm eyes.
She gets out of the chair with stiff and slow motions. "I see," is all she says before turning away, and I want to plead and beg her to stay, to talk to me, but I know I have no right to do so. I made a tiny mistake, slipped, and now I have to deal with the consequences.
I watch her until she is out of sight, and my shoulders sink with every step she takes away from me. I never thought this could hurt so much; I never knew how much Rose meant to me until now. She was always creating a safe place for me; she was the grown-up I felt like talking to because she never judged or put more weight on my shoulders. She was nothing but supportive and positive, and now... she is walking away from me.
I gape at her, baffled when she returns with a heavy glass bottle and two glasses that cling together as she places them on the table. I watch the dark brown luscious liquid surge and raise my brows questioningly.
Her features soften. "I think we can both agree that wine isn't strong enough for this conversation," Rose says, filling up both glasses with an unreasonable amount of liquor.
Reaching for my share, I halt mid-air. The front door closes with a muffled 'thud,' and George comes into view. When he is near, his eyes wander between Rose and me, then to the almost empty bottle of wine and the newly filled glasses next to the whiskey bottle. "Everything all right here?" He asks and gently touches Rose's back.
With a deep sigh, Rose answers, "I guess... we'll see."
"Do I want to know?" His sonorous voice is unusually cautious, and he looks at me warily.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think so Honey."
"Is it something that the king would have to know?" I am pretty sure that this question is directed at me, but I can't do a thing other than wince at the mention of my father.
"Yes, probably," Rose confesses.
He gives her a tender kiss on the forehead. "I'll leave you two to it. I trust you, love. I'll be upstairs if you need me."
