The Princess And The Alpha *Excerpt Only*

Bluffing

In the morning I felt unbearably warm and when I tried to roll away in my sleepy state I felt an arm tighten around me and a huff of disproval. For an instant I was panicked, thinking that someone had broken into my palace, but then I remembered I was in the small vacation cabin with Ryan and my heart rate slowed almost instantly. True, he was the alpha of the loathed rogue pack, but his hold around me didn't feel diabolical. He didn't seem like an angry violent person who would hurt anyone, really. If I hadn't known better I would've thought that he was just a normal werewolf. I sighed to myself, well, at least here; he could just be my mate. For now, anyway.

Regardless, I still felt like I was cuddling a space heater in July so I carefully eased myself out of Ryan's arms and rolled further away. My eyes closed in bliss when the cold covers touched me and I slowly dozed off into sleep again.

When I woke up the second time I was restless. My body was on a schedule. I was awake at the same time almost every day, whether it was a normal Wednesday or Christmas morning. And I was used to having learning sessions, and fighting lessons being forced on me the second my eyes opened. I was used to women demanding I stayed still while they yanked on my corset and my stylist scolding me for not washing off my makeup last night. But this morning held no long to-do list and no one was yanking me out of the bed.

Still, I didn't feel like I could bear staying in bed any longer so I gently moved the blankets off my body and stood up. I watched Ryan's reaction as I left the bed. His breathing hitched and he flinched slightly when the bed moved, but stayed asleep otherwise. After tiptoeing around the room in search of clothing I slipped into the bathroom to get ready. Once my face was clean, my teeth scrubbed, and my long hair brushed I pulled on the new clothes that I had bought and was a little mortified with the way they hung off my body. The bust was too tight, the waist too small, the leggings barely made it over my hips yet they felt loose in the ankles. I suppose having a private seamstress paid off more than I thought.

I was careful to be quiet as I moved out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into the main living space. Ryan needed to get as much sleep as possible so he could finally heal from all the damage the royal guards had inflicted. I shuddered at the idea of a fight between my own mate and the guards I had grown up around and trusted with my life. I knew that Ryan was strong; he must've been if he tamed down all those rouges and made them decent pack members. He also had to be tough to face my father and demand land, and titles, and rights. Some of those things weren't just given to him, some of them he had to physically fight for. However, the royal guards were nothing less than elite. They trained and fought daily just to stay sharp.

I became upset almost right away, thinking of the men I grew up with and my mate tearing at each other, both of them terrified, and both of them trying to do what they thought was best for me. I forced myself to go into the kitchen and clean up the residual mess from last night. Within ten minutes the plastic containers from yesterday's food had been cleaned out, the counters wiped down and I had even given the kitchen a light dusting. I smiled a little bit when I thought that I could've made a decent house wife in another life, then instantly became saddened when I thought about how different my life would be if Ryan and I had been human. We could've fallen in love, happy with nothing other than each other's company. There would be no hatred, I wouldn't have to impress hundreds of thousands of werewolves, and he could just be the edgy guy who liked spoiled girls.

"Have you started making breakfast yet?"

"Jesus!" I shouted, practically throwing myself against the nearest counter. "You scared me!" I glared darkly at my mate while he just sleepily walked through the kitchen.

"Better question, can you cook?" he asked.

"Of course I can cook." I spat back, my cheeks flaming.

Ryan nodded to himself as he pulled open the fridge and began searching for ingredients. He pulled out a carton of organic eggs, some peppers, and hash browns.

"Come on." He encouraged, "Come show me those tremendous cooking skills, Gordon Ramsey."

"Who?"

He looked amazed at my lack of knowledge for a second, but simply shrugged and pulled out a frying pan from one of the cupboards. I tried to hide my shock and horror when he handed it to me a second later. Fine, I confess, I wasn't able to cook. I had an astonishing chef who did it for me, and I knew I would always have a personal cook. In the werewolf community it was nearly impossible for a princess to marry down and lose her rights as a royal.

Unfortunately for me, it seemed I had been the only princess to meet this criteria yet. Now I was just trying to figure out if this man who pushed my limits and called my bluffs was actually worth it.