♥♥♥A Cinderella retelling for fans of fated mates, alpha males and shifters♥♥♥
This is for mature readers and is completed! However it quickly ventured too far over the "adult" line, so I had to make the difficult decision to finish it on another p...
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Picture credit: Giacomo Acquadro
(Rafe)
"Crown Prince Raphael, thank you for taking the time to meet with us," says his father's Chief Councilor, Kaden, adjacent him. A circle of the elders and king's council are among him and he has a feeling he knows what this is about.
That last girl. What was her name? It was just the moment when he wanted her to open her legs when he may have whispered something cajoling like, "Open up beautiful, you could be my mate, my princess," which is very uncharacteristic of him. Bewitched.
He was in the commons and had an audience that night; they either had overheard him, or she blabbed. Power hungry slut.
Obviously, he regrets this now; that's why he usually keeps his identity concealed. But alas, he must face this cacophony of his father's confidants and the consequences, to listen, while these ten sets of eyes who are currently staring at him to concede, lay into him a litany of duty. The one mercy is that his father's chair is empty today.
My name is Crown Prince Raphael de Terra. I'm an alpha wolf and werelock, not a senseless pup. Though his actions the other night say otherwise. Calm down. It's his nature to give the beatings not take. I must prove I'm responsible to these wolves.
He's a royal alpha and the next in line, after his father, King Austin de Terra, to be King of Alphas, though they've dropped the pack titles in this new age when most of his people don't possess wolves.
Wolves are rare these days, but werelocks are even rarer. The remaining warlocks are of the nobility, trained by the elders at the castle. Because there are so few alive, and even fewer mated, the land, which needs sorcery to survive, is dying and disease has amassed his once supernatural people.
Lord Clint Lupus, of the King's Council, speaks, "Your Highness, it has come to our attention that you may desire to enter a contract with a certain lady you were with at the last club gathering. The lady's father anticipated an arrangement and sent over terms."
Clint is considered Delta in the old title system. He was originally Gamma, but lost in a challenge. He's still very powerful and part of the king's five commanding officers. His son, Lord Ace, is the prince's best friend and will be the prince's chosen beta when he takes over his father's duties. Rafe wonders if Clint volunteered to speak, assuming some partiality towards their relationship.
He looks in front of him at the leather bound document. A union with him, the crown prince, is highly desired; it's not surprising something like this would come about. He flips open the cover and reads her name. Lady Ciara Faolan, daughter of Lord Conan.
Damn, he sighs. He's going to have to give in to an alliance. Lord Conan, werelock, is overseer of the outlying territory in the Northwest, from where he's most respected. He's been successful at maintaining herds of deer, a rich source of venison for the entire kingdom, as well as keeping the rogue population there at bay.
