Lycan School: The Hekate's Bride

"You poisoned me!"

"And that too was your fault. You don't get to ruin my relationships because I was trying to save you from your poor taste in women and--"

Rune rears back like I have stabbed him with a sword. "My poor taste in women?"

He leans in, staring deeply in my eyes as he adds in a low, deadly whisper, "And who would you peg as the right choice for me, Red?"

Red.

I hate when he calls me that.

I want to tell him that but his fingers suddenly cup my cheek, pushing my head back so I can look at him. My body jerks from the contact and when I start to move back, I collide with the closet door.

Sh*t.

My heart slams into my ribcage as pure, feline excitement courses through me. Perhaps it is the alcohol, but my wolf is stirring, purring with excitement.

"You?"

His warm breath that reeks of alcohol tickles my nostrils and somehow, something so little has me trembling with need under his fingertips.

I shouldn't have drank so much. I think he's drunk too. This isn't right. This should not be happening.

"Hands off, Rune," I say, but there is little protest in my voice as I get swept by a warm rising ocean.

His dark eyes drop from my eyes to my lips and a sharp sound escapes him. There, in his eyes, I see a crack. The cold, ruthless demeanor of his cracks and the things I glimpse between those cracks has me melting into his touch.

"This shouldn't--"

Rune's lips slam into mine, knocking the air out of me. My world shatters. I shatter. My knees buckle and I fall.

I fall into him.

My back slams into the door of my closet, hard enough to rip the oak door, but I barely feel it. Not as a fervent, urgent need I have never known with any man fills me to the brim.

His insistent lips part my mouth, filling me with violent tremors as his tongue slides over the roof of my mouth. He presses me harder against the wall and his free hand cups my *ss, pulling me against him.

I hate him. I absolutely hate him.

But I moan for him, like I never have for anyone else.

I hate that he can do this to me. I hate that my body reacts to him and betrays me. I hate Rune Wilder.

But I hate myself more.

Lounging in my throne beside my parents, I peer down at the revelry below, itching to get into the frenzy with my people, but my mother’s stern look holds me in place.

As the sole heir to the Alpha King’s throne, I must behave with dignity and whatever nonsense it is that is expected of royalty. I weary of having these discussions with my parents and getting grounded when I snarl back at them for trying to keep tabs on me.

I clocked twenty-freaking-one today. It’s my birthday party, as well as the celebration of Solstice. I should be dancing with my friends. I should be getting drunk on smuggled human alcohol and plants. I should be having fun, because come tomorrow, I will be going through the portal that leads to the Werewolf Academy.

My life begins the moment I go through that portal. My responsibilities as heir will begin to weigh down on me, as I will be expected to excel in every single aspect of my training. Werewolf High had be