Yes, Your Highness (18+)

18

•──⋅☾ Chase ☽⋅──•

Something was unmistakably in the air. The faint, yet intoxicating scent of my mate lingered around me, weaving through the cold atmosphere. She wasn't too far from where she had last stood, her presence still echoing in the space. Lycan scents have a way of wafting in the breeze, especially when it comes to werewolves. Even my wolf stirred restlessly within me, aware of the lingering aroma of her essence.

"Hey, you good? You look a bit thirsty," Scarlet remarked, her voice breaking through my thoughts. With a swift motion, she tossed a bottle of water my way. Instinct kicked in, and I caught it effortlessly in my hand, barely conscious of my actions.

I remained in the doorway where Stephanie had vanished moments ago, her scent still wrapped around me like an intoxicating haze. It drove my wolf into a frenzy, equally wild and playful, leaping and bounding in my mind. I could feel his restless energy radiating through me, a tempestuous rhythm making my heart race. Stomping his metaphorical feet against the floor of my consciousness, he yearned for the connection he craved.

I let out a half-hearted chuckle at the mental image of my wolf's antics in contrast to the gravity of the situation before me. "I hate how messed up this world works..." I muttered quietly, a grim tone settling over my words. Scarlet's expression softened, a hint of sympathy reflecting in her eyes as she patted my back reassuringly. "Come on, it can't be that bad," she encouraged, but I could only respond with a heavy silence. 

Finally, the words tumbled out, tinged with frustration and vulnerability. "I hate that I can't stop myself from falling for her." As if the air had thickened, Scarlet paused and turned her gaze on me, concern etching her features. 

"You're in love with her," Derek chimed in from the staircase, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. I refused to acknowledge him, my heart pounding defiantly in my chest.

"Wow. Chase, the son of the Gods, is in love with a mortal she-wolf. That's rich," Derek teased playfully, though the mockery felt particularly heavy in the air. The irony of it all wasn't lost on me; I was the child of a deity, bestowed with life only to be exiled and cursed to exist as a werewolf. It was a cruel twist of fate. Each recollection of my past—being transformed into this savage beast that now resided within me—was indelible. I could still visualize my mother's gentle face from those early days, her warmth wrapping around me as she knelt beside me, pressing a kiss to my temple while watching her son, barely three days old, take his first steps through the gates of our home.

Never to return.

I had always grappled with the reasons behind my exile; it was a mystery wrapped in pain that I couldn't quite grasp. The moment I was born, I felt like an accident waiting to happen. Just days before, Stephanie had insisted I was not a mistake. Had she simply thought it, or had her unspoken words reached my mind? Either way, I had the peculiar talent of picking up what others kept hidden, which often left people unsettled. Yet, she didn't recoil at my true nature. Instead, she stood before me, resolute, as if she fully understood who I was.

"Chase?" Zayah's voice broke through my reverie, her presence a reminder of the world around me. "You can't leave her hanging without telling her how you feel." As I twisted open the bottle and gulped the water down in a few hurried swallows, I felt the cool liquid revitalizing me. Once I drained it, I passed the empty bottle back to her, the weight of her words settling heavily in the air.

"I do not care for her," I replied, wrapping my tone in somber defiance. With that, I stepped out of the cabin for what felt like the final time, leaving them behind in a whirl of uncertainty and worry. I could almost hear Derek rolling his eyes at my retreating back. "That's a lie, and you know it, you stupid lycan-boy," he called after me, his exasperation clear.