Page 5 of The Bastard Prince
The time had come, the night of my initiation was upon me, and I was officially out of time. Nineteen years of being prettified and pampered, sheltered and kept at arm's length for a bunch of men to decide my fate. All because I had the misfortune of being born into a world of misogynistic villains.
My life, from birth to present day, consisted of being groomed for this very night. At any moment, I would be called into the room where my fate would be sealed. Men of the highest power in The Order would fight to claim me as their own.
Only high-born women were given an initiation. Only high-born women were deemed worthy to procreate with. It was an honor, we were told. To be claimed by a man of The Order.
Like a lamb to the slaughter.
Up until two years ago, I had been sickly excited about this night.
Because I had been promised tohim.
Fabio Crellid's strongest soldier.
The bastard prince.
Because I trusted him to get us both out of this world.
Now?
Not so much.
My alliance with Fabio's bastard had been severed and now I was depending on his youngest, weakling son to protect me from the savages.
Fabio's youngest son, Jethro Crellid, who was the same age as me, had promised to claim me at my initiation. He vowed to give me a good life, one where I would be safe and sheltered. All I had to do in return was birth his heir and turn a blind eye to his indiscretions.
In other words, I was thoroughly fucked, because depending on Jet was about as sensible as sailing a paper freaking boat.
"Ashton, get in here!" Trigger Laperro bellowed from behind the closed door at my back, dragging me from my thoughts. The deep, timbre lilt of his voice startled me, causing me to knock over the carefully stacked house of cards that I had spent the last forty minutes building.
A spark of annoyance erupted inside of me and I glared down at the scattered deck of cards strewn across the floor.
I'd heard the rumors that he was back in town.
It was the reason I had waited here for most of the evening.
To catch a glimpse of my prince.
To beg him for mercy…
It had been two years since we locked eyes on one another and I couldn’t deny the way my heartbeat soared at the thought of seeing his face again.
Clambering to my feet, I smoothed down my short, white sundress and flicked my long, dark ponytail over my shoulder. Not quite the appropriate attire for groveling, but the asshole calling my name deserved to have his feathers ruffled. He deserved a helluva lot worse after what he'd done to me, and if I could achieve said ruffling with a thigh high hem and a plunging neckline then I considered it a noble win. Besides, I was running short on time and the beast behind the door was my only hope, and if a short dress helped me to get my way, I would never wear jeans again.
"Goddammit, Ashton!" he repeated, and I could hear the fury in his tone.
"…Run, little lamb, and run quickly." Clutching my throat tighter, he cut off my air supply. "Find a very good place to hide from your wolf and stay hidden…"
His parting words to me two years ago floated through my mind and a cold shiver racked through me.
"Are you deaf?" he roared, louder this time.
No, Trig, but I am pissed.
"I said get in here now!"
If he didn’t have so much power, and I had the ability to rip the shackles from my wrists and break free from this world, then I'd tell Fabio Crellid's bastard son to go fuck himself.
This is risky.