Crown and Shackles: The Princes Mate (Story Updated)

Eyes in the Dark

I was drifting in my own little world when something flickered at the edge of my vision—a shadow, dark and swift, like a secret stirring in the night. My body froze, caught in that breathless moment like a deer caught in headlights. Then, as if logic decided to disappear just for me, I bolted—heart pounding wildly, breath hitching as if I’d just run a marathon chasing a dream.

I glanced around, panic rising like a tide, the trees blurring past, their branches reaching out like they wanted to catch me, or maybe hold me close. But there was nothing—only the forest, so silent I could hear my own thoughts screaming in the dark.

And then, like something out of a midnight reverie, he appeared.

A massive wolf landed before me, black as the shadows of my deepest secrets and twice as fierce. His fur rippled like silk spun from midnight, muscles taut and coiled like a promise waiting to be unleashed. Those golden eyes—wild, slitted, and filled with a savage grace—locked onto me, and suddenly the world narrowed until it was just the two of us.

That’s when I knew: this wolf wasn’t just a beast. He was *him.* The one in charge, the one who made my breath catch and my heart thunder in ways I didn’t understand.

The moment our eyes locked, something raw and wild ignited inside me—a sudden crack through the forest’s stillness that shattered everything I thought I knew about fear, danger, and myself. His golden gaze wasn’t just fierce; it was magnetic, pulling me deeper than any words ever could.

It wasn’t just a look. It was a promise. A question. An answer all at once.

I felt it in the hollow of my chest, a fierce tug that knocked the air from my lungs and left my heartbeat thundering in my ears like a war drum. My own wolf inside me twisted and howled, a primal song of recognition and need that I couldn’t silence—even when every part of me screamed run.

He didn’t look away either. His eyes softened just a fraction, that wild edge sharpening into something tender and unbearably real—like he was seeing *me*, not the prey or the challenger he expected. Like suddenly, the whole forest had fallen away, leaving just two souls tangled in the space between breath and heartbeat.

For a breathless second, the fight vanished—replaced by a quiet that roared louder than any growl. I wanted to reach out, to touch him, to breathe him in and never let go.

But then his lips parted, teeth bared—not in attack, but with a slow, deliberate intensity that sent chills through me.

He lunged—not to hurt me, but to mark me.

His jaws snapped toward my shoulder, but somehow, by a hair’s breadth, the bite missed—clenching instead around the air and a stray lock of my hair.

I gasped, caught between shock and confusion—not pain, but the rawness of being claimed, even if the claim was incomplete. The fierce intent was clear, but the mark wasn’t made. Not yet.

I shoved him off, scrambling back, heart hammering from more than just the chase.

His eyes burned into mine, fierce and conflicted, as if he wrestled with some invisible chain binding him.

Then… he stopped.

Just stared.

Unblinking.

And in that gaze, something shifted inside me. The panic dulled, the fury softened—like a storm passing, leaving behind a strange, tender calm. And in that calm, a tiny, rebellious part of me dared to think maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t the monster I feared. Maybe he was something else. Something like… safety.

I shook my head hard. Get a grip, Ally. He almost marked you.

But then his growl softened, his posture changed. He stepped forward slowly, eyes flicking to where the bite *should* have been, now just a faint scrape. And I swear I saw something almost human there—frustration. Regret.

No way. No sad wolf eyes for me, mister “I-just-missed-marking-you.”

And then—he licked the spot, gentle. Tender. Like he was trying to make it right.

What the hell?

I froze, every instinct screaming *RUN,* but I sat there, stupid and spellbound, as he kept at it, like some fierce, dark angel tending my broken edges.

My wolf inside lost it. “Mate!” she howled.

Mate? Him? My mate was supposed to be warm, maybe tall, definitely breathtaking—not this snarling storm of fur and muscle who nearly claimed me like a thunderbolt.

And yet… he stepped back, looking all tragic and noble, and my foolish heart betrayed me, skipping a beat.

Traitor.

Without thinking, I spun and ran.

I could hear him pounding after me, but adrenaline and panic lent me wings. I raced back to the alpha’s house, shifted back to my awkward, trembling human self, and yanked on my worn gray dress—still hiding behind that pathetic excuse for a tree.

I scanned the forest, emerald eyes wide and wild.

Nothing.

I let out a shaky breath and stumbled inside, slamming the door like I’d just escaped from a shadowy dream.

My wolf buzzed nonstop. “Mate, mate, mate!” she whispered, like she’d found a secret worth fighting for.

Maybe he won’t find me.

Yeah, right. He’s a wolf. He’s already smelled every thump of my heart.

It’s only a matter of time.

Please don’t find me.

BANG! BANG!

“Ally, get your butt out here now!” Nathan’s gruff voice shattered the fragile silence.

Oh, perfect. Just what I needed.

Nathan—sixty, grumpy, balding, and full of himself—acted like the king of this wild castle. But really, he was just a tired old wolf trying to feel important. We listened—not because we respected him, but because arguing felt impossible.

I stood up, squared my shoulders, and opened the door.

Everything’s going to be alright… right?