I had worked until midnight last night trying to figure out what I was going to say to America's father. I had been nervous and distracted. I was nervous because this was the parent that America had looked up to for her whole life, still looked up to. Added to that was the fact that he was a werewolf and if he sensed that I wasn't good enough he could honestly shred me to pieces and get away with it. I knew that was just my imagination talking, I mean, America and I were mates, he'd understand.
I had been distracted because I knew America was out there roaming around and I had wanted nothing more than to go and be with her.
At breakfast this morning, we only made eye contact a few times. I could tell she was a little upset with me for not spending time with her. I had wanted nothing more than to be with her every day but father had given me an excess of work to do and I had no idea why. Father had already approved of me marrying America but it felt like he was doing it on purpose to keep me away from her. God, and then those meddlesome advisors. They had suggested to father that I should go on more dates with the other girls and that's how I had found myself going on dates with all the girls over the last two weeks. All of them, except for America.
But there was also another reason for my absence. Any alone time I had during these last couple of weeks, I had spent with the royal jeweler, trying to come up with a design for America's engagement ring. I wanted to somehow use our birthstones in the ring but I was having a hard time trying to figure what I wanted the actual ring to look like. It was times like these when I wished I had a talent for drawing. It was like brainstorming with a pen and paper; it helped to be able to draw it so you could physically see it somewhere instead of just in your head.
Regardless, I had figured out that I was just going to tell Mr. Singer the truth, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with America and that I hoped he could accept me as her mate and future husband.
The ladies had been directed towards the entrance of the palace to wait for their families and I was waiting on the second floor, probably because I was the prince and I had to make some dramatic entrance. Sometimes it was so stupid. By doing that I was already separating myself from them, from the people. I had wanted to wait down there with the girls but father had shut that idea down. 'You are a prince Maxon and you need to show them that'. My father's words echoed around in my head.
Suddenly a butler walked up to me and told me that the families had arrived and that the limos were finally pulling up to the gates. I moved to find a window that would let me see the front gate.
I watched as the families got out of the limos and immediately recognized America's family. There was a woman who had red hair with streaks of white going through her hair, a younger girl that was the spitting image of America, a man who had his arm out for the woman as they walked and a little boy that looked bored more than anything else. I chuckled at that. Mr. Singer must have heard me since I saw his eyes move up to the window where I was looking. I immediately moved out of view.
Christ, that was embarrassing. How good was his hearing? Was America's that good and I just didn't know? I guess I was only on the second floor. What a great impression I said sarcastically to myself. Watching like a creep. I waited a few minutes and listened as best I could to their chatter.
Alright, it was time to introduce myself. I descended the stairs and successfully managed to sneak into the gathering. I walked up to Celeste's family first. I just wanted to get that over with.
"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Newsome," I said, interrupting their conversation with Celeste. Their eyes widened and they bowed and curtsied respectively before saying, "Your Highness" in unison. "I hope your flight over wasn't too terrible." I had no idea what to say to these people so small talk seemed like the best option. "Oh, not at all Your Highness. Compared to other flights we've taken, we barely felt any turbulence and the staff was very helpful," said Mrs. Newsome. I smiled at them and said, "That's good to hear. Will you please excuse me? I have to make my rounds with the other families and I don't want to delay the plans that have been made for today."
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His Selected Mate
Hombres LoboA throat cleared and a voice spoke, smooth like honey. It gave me goosebumps and sent a chill down my spine. "Excuse me my dear, are you alright?" It was then that I acknowledged that whoever was behind me smelt absolutely incredible, like strawberr...