The Alpha Prince's Rejected Mate

CHAPTER FIVE

AUDREY

The thought of rejecting him doesn't feel so outrageous right now as we glare at one another—not after what he did. My wolf whimpers at the thought, but I silence her. We don't need someone as shallow as Knox in our life, mate or not.

"Hold up there, wild child," Aria's voice echoes in my head, my wolf trying to be the voice of reason. "Yes, I admit our mate was a jackass that night, but rejection? That's a bit extreme, don't you think?"

"Extreme?" I whisper back through our mental link, my hands clenching into fists. "How about the fact that he's suspected of being behind the massacre of our pack? Of Mom, Dad, and James?" My voice cracks on my brother's name. Even though the details of that bloody day are frustratingly fuzzy in my mind – the ache of loss still burns fresh. The idea that my mate, my supposed other half, might have orchestrated their deaths... it feels like someone's twisting a knife in my chest.

"He doesn't deserve us," I continue. "And besides, how am I supposed to be mated to the very person I was sent to spy on? It would ruin everything, and we can't do that to Jax. Not after everything he's done for us." Tears sting my eyes, and I forcefully cut off our connection before Aria can argue further. Some decisions don't need debate.

"I, Audrey..." I start the rejection words, but the King's voice cuts through the tension like a blade.

"Why don't we all take a breath and calm down before saying things we might regret?" His tone is diplomatic, but the look he gives me speaks volumes. He knows exactly what I was about to do, and his disapproval radiates off him in waves. Rich coming from someone who couldn't even wait for his own mate before being intimate with someone.

"The only thing I'm going to regret is not saying it first," Knox sneers, and I arch an eyebrow at him. Gods, what an asshole. To think the Moon Goddess thought we'd be perfect for each other – she must have been having an off day.

The King turns to his son, shooting him a warning look that Knox answers with a weary sigh. "Let's continue this discussion in my private study," the King suggests, though his tone makes it clear it's not really a suggestion.

I'm tempted to refuse, to let my defiance stand as a statement, but then reality crashes back in. He might be acting cordial, but he's still the Alpha King. There are lines even I shouldn't cross, no matter how much I want to tell them both to go to hell. I give a stiff nod and start walking toward his study, my boots silent on polished stone. I've passed the door to his study many times before, its heavy wooden frame and intricate carvings impossible to miss.

Once we're all inside—me, the asshole, and his parents—the tension in the room becomes almost suffocating. The King and Queen sit on the plush sofa, their posture regal and composed, while Knox and I stand on opposite sides of the room, our eyes avoiding each other. The King is the first to speak, his deep voice commanding our attention.

"Before either of you makes the mistake of rejecting the other, why not try being mates first? We could crown Au—"

"No! That's not fucking happening," Knox snaps, cutting his father off before he can finish.

"Language, son!" Queen Grace scolds, her sharp tone filled with disappointment as she glances at him. There's a flicker of something else in her eyes, though—an unfortunate acceptance of his reaction.

Then, she turns to me. Her gaze softens as she walks over, her elegant gown swishing lightly with each step. She's dressed impeccably in deep emerald green, the fabric hugging her form and reflecting the status she wears like armor. Her dark hair is pinned back in a sleek twist, and her perfectly composed demeanor contrasts starkly with the chaos swirling around us.

I stiffen as she approaches, thrown off by her warmth. She's too nice—welcoming, even—as if her son hadn't just declared his desire to reject me to my face.

"Don't let him upset you, dear," she says with a smile so soft it borders on maternal. "He's just hurt that you wanted to reject him first. Men and their egos."

I force a small smile, unsure how to respond. Jax's words echo in my mind: Never trust the image of the Queen. He's warned me about her more than once, though he's never explained why. Her kindness feels almost calculated, and I can't shake the feeling that there's more beneath her polished exterior.

"The mate bond is a beautiful thing," she continues, her tone gentle yet persuasive. "I really think you and Knox should consider giving it a chance. Once you're comfortable as his mate, we can crown you princess. But there's no rush."

I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat as another thought crashes into me. Why am I so determined to reject this? This could be the perfect opportunity to get closer to Knox—and closer to the information Jax needs. Being Knox's mate and the future crown princess would grant me access to secrets I could never reach as just his personal guard. How could I have been so blind to this advantage?

"No! You shouldn't use the mate bond like that," Aria's voice suddenly chimes in, sharp with disapproval.

"Are you going to tell him?" I roll my eyes, dismissing her concern.

"No, but—"

"Exactly, so shut up."

I sever the connection with her, shutting down her protests. But as I refocus on the room, I realize I've missed part of the conversation. The King's voice rises, cutting through my thoughts like a blade.

"I forbid you from rejecting her," he declares, his tone brooking no argument. "You're of age and have found your mate. She will be acknowledged and move into your quarters. That's final."

His words hit me like a blow, and I turn toward Knox, expecting him to explode in rage. His fists are clenched so tightly his knuckles are white, and his nostrils flare as he tries to contain his fury.

But instead of lashing out, he says nothing. Without a word, he turns on his heel and storms out of the study, his broad shoulders rigid with barely restrained anger.

I watch his retreating figure, stunned by his silence. A sharp, searing pain suddenly flares in my chest, making me gasp. I press a hand to my ribs, the ache unbearable. It's the mate bond—his anger and rejection burning through the connection between us.

Fuck.

This isn't going to be as easy as I thought.