The Alpha's Temptation

With a strong beast, Eltanin could defeat Felis — killing him once and for all. That’s what his father said. Until now, he thought that he could take on Felis, but now… now he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was time to pay attention to his father’s words. Maybe it was time to marry Princess Morava.

He inhaled sharply and tipped his head up. The thought was appalling; it was like a jagged dagger slicing across his skin. Why couldn’t he take to the idea of marriage?

He realized that it was going to be one of the days when he would stay in his bedchamber, inside the Blue Crystal, drowning himself with wine. At least until he could no longer think.

Eltanin left his chamber later than usual. He came to a stairwell, where his guards bowed to him, parting so that he could climb up the steps. There, he reached his quarters.

“May the moon shine upon you always,” his old servant, Ewan, said as he bowed. He then stepped forward and helped Eltanin remove his cape, crown, and sword. Ewan was older than Eltanin and had been gifted by his mother when he came of age. A token of love from her realm. He had been one of the best gifts that Eltanin had ever received: Ewan had been appointed by his mother to take care of his safety, to feed him well, to dress him, and to never stray from him. No one knew how old Ewan was, but he was not only Eltanin’s cook; he was his cleaning lady, his coachman, and his perpetual companion. Eltanin couldn’t remember a time when Ewan was not around.

“Thank you, Ewan,” said Eltanin as he handed his sword over. He took to the balcony as Ewan went to fetch his King’s favorite wine, procured from the roses of the Ivory Forests.

Eltanin sat on the couch with his feet up on the table. He looked at the hills that were dotted with lights from the lamps emanating from within the houses. A cool breeze eased the day’s heat and swept away the clouds that had shrouded the capital. Ewan brought his wine, along with a tray of goat cheese, grapes, and blueberries, and poured his wine for him into a goblet. He left to cook food.

Eltanin liked his quiet demeanor. Ewan never asked foolish questions. It was as though he always gauged his Master’s mood.

As he sipped his wine, savoring the taste, his thoughts returned to Fae. She was too thin. He wondered what would happen to her if he ever tried to take her. He had immersed himself in his work in order to forget her, but his thoughts kept returning to her.

Then the news of Dziban’s demise rattled him. One of his Generals murdered? This will be such a scandal. One that could take huge proportions if the true nature of his death became public. He didn’t want his people to panic. His thoughts bounced from one horror to the next when his quiet was interrupted.

“Princess Petra is here, Your Highness,” Ewan announced.

Eltanin grunted.

“What does she want?” he asked, swallowing another grape.

“An audience, Your Highness.”

Eltanin rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what kind of audience she was seeking. “Send her in,” he said, exhaling roughly. He wanted to send her away, but he perceived that if he did that, she would cause a ruckus. Moreover, this was a chance for him to ask about his girl. He knew that Petra was too clever and full of schemes. She must have come with a plan to meet him and he had to pierce the plan in order to glean information from her.

Ewan bowed and left, and when he returned, he was with Princess Petra. Leaving the two alone, he returned to the kitchen. _{ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​}

Soft footsteps approached him, and a familiar jasmine smell hit at his nostrils.

Eltanin didn’t ask her to sit down. He sized her from top to bottom as she stared back at him with intense eyes.

He sipped his wine and started playing with his game. He asked, “Why are you here, Petra?”

She was wearing a canary-yellow gown, over which she had wrapped a white crochet shawl. Her hair was open, cascading down her shoulders. “And how did you know that I would be here?” He sipped more wine, acting cold. But his chest was seething with fury.C0ntent © 2024 (N/ô)velDrama.Org.

Petra removed her shawl and let it slide on the floor, revealing a see-through gown. Her nipples were puckered when his gaze fell on them. She sauntered towards him. From under her eyelashes, she looked suggestively and said, “I’ve been here for two nights and not once have you paid attention to me.” She lifted his leg to walk in between his thighs.

“Kneel,” he ordered. He knew exactly how to deal with her.

She knelt before him. Licking her lips, she said, “I thought that, since you hadn’t come back to the palace, this would be the place to find you. I hear that you often spend your nights here in the solitude of this place.” She stroked his inner thighs gently over his trousers. “And that means you are under heavy tension. I have come to relieve you of that tension.”

Eltanin tilted his head and raised his eyebrow. “How are you going to achieve that?”

She bit her bottom l*p as her fingers crawled dangerously close to the buttons of his pants. “I can do whatever you want me to do, but I do have an idea.” She looked between his thighs to see if he was erect; he wasn’t.

“Let us hear your idea,” he said, sipping more wine.

She stroked his c**k over his breeches. “I will open these buttons and wrap my lips around that beautiful thing you have in there.”

“Ah, I see.”

He gulped down the last of his goblet, filling it again for the third time. “Let’s see you do it,” he said. It was not the first time that Petra had given herself to him. While she had always said that she did not want to marry him, he knew she wanted to be a queen.

Excited, Petra started to unbutton his breeches. He stopped her hands. So, she gently stroked him over the breeches while staring into his eyes. He sipped his wine and matched her gaze. “Do I look pretty?” she asked huskily. Petra’s beauty paled in comparison to his Fae.