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Sunday the 15th: Fluff, Humour, Crack
Once upon a time in a land far, far away there once lived a good, kind Prince by the name of Christopher Argent. His father, King Gerard was dying and Christopher was the heir to the throne. Long ago his beloved wife Victoria had died from a sickness that couldn’t be cured. His daughter, Princess Allison, now thirteen was quite the handful and King Gerard was fed up with her antics. To Christopher he had issued a decree. Find a wife, and get married. If you do not, a wife will be chosen for you. And so the subject became a topic of awkward discussion for quite some time before the King got fed up and took matters in his own hands.
King Gerard called for a Grand Ball and invited every single eligible Noblewoman in the land to come. Because Chris’ daughter was not in support of a new mother she took it upon herself to interfere in the invitations. Noblewoman was removed and just Noble put in the place. The banners sent could not be retracted in time and now it seemed that the King was offering his son to Nobles both male and female and no one could do anything about it. It would be rude. So the banners were not retracted and were sent out over the realm.
Now, the Kingdom of Beacon Hills was home to many types of peoples. Humans and Werewolves lived together freely and happily. And as long as the Werewolf families kept their side of the treaty and helped to fight against other dangerous supernaturals that invaded from time to time everything was fine. Werewolf families were proud and had great estates upon which they lived and thrived. They were recognized through the rightful heir, usually chosen by the mother upon her death.
In the case of The Hale Werewolf Family, their true heir was a man by the name of Peter much to the chagrin of his much older sister. It was not Peter, however, who took the power of Alpha when their parents died, but his crafty sister. She manipulated the situation and Peter was too young to stop it. And so he suffered for it.
Now he lived in the Estate of the Noble Hale Family, subservient to his older, powerful sister. He was tied to her due to a lie and she made good use of her power over him. He had nowhere to go. No other Werewolf family would take him in. He was disgraced due to the lie told. So now he spent his days taking care of the family as best he could. Talia had three children, Derek, Cora and Laura. Laura was the oldest, a vicious harpy who delighted in making him do things he hated. Derek was an empty-headed dandy and cared only about hunting and card games and hanging out with their cousin Stiles. Stiles, who delighted in ridiculing him. It was only Cora that made up for his efforts. She genuinely appreciated him and tried to give him comfort.
For years he went through the motions but something felt different lately. Peter was restless and anxious. Cora was going away to finishing school in the fall and he would be left with managing his sister’s household while living on scraps. Most of the time they treated him like a dog and not like their Uncle. He was sure it had caused him to age prematurely. With Cora gone there would be no light in his life. It wasn’t that he did everything, they had other servants but it was Peter who did the majority of the cooking, cleaning, serving and mending.
It was a fine summer day when their cousin Stiles came bursting into the Manor, he was human, and not werewolf. Peter grimaced as he could always smell Stiles from a mile away. The boy didn’t know how to use cologne to save his life. Peter carefully put sandwich halves down on Derek’s plate and continued to arrange the lunch trays while he overheard Stiles screech about the news.
“Aunt Talia!” Stiles waved a royal decree in front of his face like a flag. “A Ball! The King has called for a ball! And ALL single Nobles are invited. Men -AND- women!!” He tracked a load of mud with him into the foyer that Peter had just cleaned of course. “Where’s Derek!?! We must color coordinate! There’s hardly any time to plan!”
“Stiles, calm down before you fall down you blithering idiot. ” Lady Laura plucked the thing out of his hands. “You’re kidding me, this doesn’t make any sense! Mother !” Her voice was the loudest of the bunch and very grating.
Most of the time Peter wished he could silence her permanently. Instead he just remained where he was in the kitchen while the children went nuts. “Don’t think too hard, Stiles, you might hurt yourself.” He muttered in amusement at the idea of Stiles winning any Prince’s esteem. The kid was all arms and legs and too many colors.
Baroness Talia Hale looked up from the lounge chair from her ladies magazine and yawned. “My darlings, what is amiss? Laura do straighten up, you know what that does to your back. And Stiles, pet, your pants aren’t tucked properly.” She unfolded her hand to take the decree from Laura. “Hm.” she said once. “All eligible Nobles, it says. Well, we shall be prepared. It’s this weekend. Up Up!” She clapped her hands at Cora who was sprawled on the floor playing with a trio of puppies and getting dog hairs all over her dress. “No time to waste.”
“But mother, I don’t want to get married!” Lady Cora whined. “We should only be getting Stiles, Laura and Derek ready.”
“Mmm.” Lady Talia tched. Out of the corner of her eyes she heard her brother give another amused snort. “Did you have something to add, Peter?”
Peter walked in briskly with the lunch trays and set them down. “I believe I will attend, I’m a noble too, after all.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not eligible.” Laura scoffed.
“You cannot ignore a royal decree, Talia, just because you’d rather forget I’m your brother.” Peter ignored Laura and studied the dirt under his nails. His hands were perpetually dirty hands no matter how much he tried to manicure them.
“Who would want to marry him?! He smells disgusting!” Stiles exclaimed. “He can’t come with us! He’s too old! He’ll make Derek look bad.”
“The Prince himself is forty-two.” Cora pointed out. She often defended Peter just to be contrary.
Peter sneered at Stiles and favored Cora with a smile. “I’m twenty-eight, not old.”
Talia looked Peter up and down. As usual he was covered in dirt and grime from his various chores. His clothes were old and patched. He didn’t look like a lord, he looked like a peasant. He’d spent the best years of his life doing everything she wanted. Why argue now? She spared his life and let him live all those years ago when she could have tossed him to the authorities. “Stiles, go find Derek.” To Peter she smirked. “If you finish all your chores then you can come with us on the day of the ball. But you’re going to have to manage an outfit on your own.”
“MOTHER!” Laura practically screeched.
Cora looked relieved and she gave Peter a happy grin. She didn’t like to go to parties but if he was there she’d at least have someone to talk to about books.
Talia just gave them all a stern look. “We will all go.” She gave Laura, Stiles, Derek and Cora a warning look. “That is my final word.” She knew Peter wouldn’t be able to get something suitable together in time and she would make certain he didn’t get on their carriage. The last thing she needed was her younger brother taking the attention away from her children. This was their chance to get one of her children on the throne! They needed it. They were slowly but surely going through the family fortune. Not that she would ever tell Peter that.
Peter knew though. He could tell by how much of a skinflint Talia was. He wondered how close they were to losing the Manor? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he finally had a chance to get out. He’d heard how handsome the Prince was, of course, but he didn’t want to get married either. He just wanted to have some fun. He just wished, he wished for once he could be happy. He wanted to be loved like he knew his mother had loved his father. He wanted to travel and write and break the chains his sister had on him.
A small part of Peter knew that unless he tried he was stuck here forever. He washed his hands in the sink in the kitchen and shuddered. Talia was the alpha. She could force him to do whatever she wanted and she knew it. He picked up a stash of discarded fashion magazines and headed up to his room in the attic. That was where his mother’s old sewing machine was. He had no illusions about becoming the eye of a royal prince. He honestly just wanted out for a night.
He knew he was good looking under all the soot and grime and he also knew that’s one of the reasons Talia kept him working. He knew the real reason she wouldn’t want him there is that she didn’t want him to distract people from Derek, her perfect son. He washed his face from a bucket he’d brought up and sponged the rest of the grime off. He had a scruffy beard he couldn’t seem to properly trim with the things he had and his hair was shaggy since he hadn’t bothered to cut it recently. There was no point. He bared his teeth, at least he had perfect teeth.
He could do this. Talia knew the law, royal decrees must be obeyed.
He wasn’t asking for much and never asked her for a thing over the years. In Beacon Hills Werewolves were known. Most of them were under control and helped the humans defend against other, more dangerous creatures. Sometimes they went feral. Sometimes bad things happen.
Peter sighed.
He would never be free of the guilt that wracked him. He’d endured his punishment patiently over the years and it was time for the man to shine again. In the past he’d been well known for his good looks and charm. Plenty who knew him back then would have told the tale of the dashing young son of Baron Hale, but the fact was no one really knew what happened to him. Most assumed he had married and gone to live abroad as was the custom for sons. Those that lived and worked at the mysteriously forbidding Hale House estate didn’t say anything different. None of them did anything to help him, they were too afraid of Alpha Talia Hale.
Peter Hale wasn’t a kind and sweet individual in a plight he couldn’t get out of. Peter was where he was by choice. It was either this or live a life being hunted. He was determined to have one night to shine, just one and because it wasn’t for any ulterior motive he might just get his wish.
***
Time passed, as it is wont to do, and soon it was the day of the ball.
Inside, Stiles was fussing with Derek’s cravat presentation. “Honestly, Der. You should learn how to tie these on your own.”
“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek shoved his cousin out of the way. “Mother, you look lovely.” He kissed Talia’s hand. He wore fine beige trousers, a burgundy coat with gold trim, a black vest and a white. He looked normal compared to Stiles who wore a multicolored coat, predominantly burgundy, of course since he liked to match Derek. The fashion his deplorable cousin wore would make anyone’s eyes itch, of course, but Derek loved him anyway. The girls were naturally beautiful in their fabulous gowns. Talia looked grand in a full shimmering gown of rich blue. Laura wore an over the top rose red gown to draw attention to her and Cora was demure in pale yellow.
It was Peter that surprised them all. They hadn’t seen him cleaned up in a long time. Talia wrinkled her nose as she looked at him sharply. She hadn’t expected him to get all the chores done and still have the time to create his own outfit but he had. He walked down from the attic stairs like a Prince. His material was old, at least ten years out of fashion but that didn’t matter. It did nothing to undermine his looks. Years of labor hadn’t taken them away either. If anything they made him look better, stronger. He wore black pants and a black formfitting jacquard vest with shiny designs.
One couldn’t help but admire the way his pants clung to his thighs, showing off muscles that none of them had ever seen. His coat was gold, red and black abstract designs and he had a simple white shirt underneath the vest. He had no cravat as he had no access to silk, but he did wear a tight leather choker with a miniature obsidian Triskelion attached to it. It had been his father’s, a fashion from a time long ago. He and his father had a similar neck size and it fit Peter perfectly.
Derek might have been stunned to Peter looking well and generally didn’t think before he spoke so he could not help but remark on his appearance. “Your neck is bare.”
Peter scowled. “It is not, there’s nothing wrong with it.” He had a great neck. In the past it was perfectly fine to show your neck. He knew Talia was just looking for any reason to make him stay home.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Peter. You are not wearing that!” Talia lifted her eyebrows in disdain. In a snide tone she gestured at Peter’s neck. “That belongs to Laura. She’s the Heir.”
“She’s getting it over my dead body.” Peter snarled.
“She’s the Heir, Peter.” Talia lifted her head with a condescending sniff. “I’d wondered where that had got to.”
“He probably stole it!” Laura simpered. “I don’t like it, mother. It’s ugly and plain. We should melt it down into something prettier”
“Hush!” Talia glared at her daughter. “It’s a family heirloom.” She stood up and held out her hand. “Hand it over, Peter.”
“Come and take it.” Peter growled, fists clenched. At Laura’s words he saw red.
“If you insist on being tiresome, you’re staying home.” Talia took a step forward and must have thought the better of getting into a fight with her brother. Instead she just simply roared at him. He stood his ground as long as he could while she forced him into the dirty ground with her powers. He refused, however, to give it to her. “Stay home then!” She demanded.
Cora gazed at Peter, who ended up on the ground under Talia’s Alpha voice. “Uncle-” She looked like she was about to go help him but Laura smacked her shoulder.
“Stay out of it.” Laura commanded.
“You’re a pathetic disgrace. I’m ashamed to call you my brother. You’re only fit to lie in the dirt where you should have stayed!” Talia said scathingly as she turned away from him and stalked towards the carriage.
Peter stayed where he was, outfit already entirely ruined by the mud. As the carriage rumbled out of sight Peter sighed and got to his feet. The gatekeeper gave him an apologetic look but he just smiled. It was a long shot anyway. Deep down he’d always known Talia wouldn’t have let him out of the gates. It was just a stupid dream.
He walked dejectedly towards the back garden and sat down heavily on an old wicker chair. “Perhaps she’s right.” he told an old dog who came up to sniff at his hand. “I don’t know how I’d fare outside of here, anyway.” Especially after everything. “I should just give it to her. There’s no point in handing over what will never be mine anyway.”
“Well, good grief. That’s a load of crud if I ever heard it.” A feminine voice chuckled loudly from behind the garden wall. “Peter Hale? Are you Peter Hale?”
Between the broken stones of the wall he could see someone peeking at him. “I’m Peter Hale. Sorry, we don’t buy from travelling salespeople.”
“I am not!” The lady gave an indignant snort. She leaped up onto the top of the wall and Peter stared. She was almost as agile as a wolf and dressed in a pretty, yet simple blue peasant’s gown that showed off every asset. She had glorious red hair he would dearly like to slide his fingers through and a rather fabulous set of... “Oh ho, none of that! I’m your fairy godmother.”
“My what?” Peter stared. He was werewolf, they didn’t get drunk and he’d barely had a sip.
“My name is Lydia and I’m here to grant your wish! That’s all you need to know.” Lydia beamed at him and reached over to grab his face. He smacked her away but she smacked him and eventually got her fingers on his chin. “Oh dear, we’ve got work to do.” She sighed dramatically. “When was the last time you shaved?”
“Today.” Peter was forced to use old tools, it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t get a close shave.
“Haircut?”
“Today.” Peter couldn’t help it if he had to cut his own hair.
“Manicure?” She checked out his nails.
“Today.” Peter looked down at his nails and sighed when he saw dirt there
“Dear lord, have we got work to do because you absolutely cannot go as you are. Now then.” She perched up on the garden fountain and tiptoed around it as she surveyed the area. “We have everything we need.”
“For what?” Peter couldn’t help but be confused.
“Well to make sure you go to the ball. That is your wish, isn’t it?” Lydia blinked at him. “I distinctly remember getting the notice this morning. Peter Hale wants something without an ulterior motive, it’s time to grant his wish. And le voila. Here I am.” She twirled on one toe and her gown sparkled several different colors. She almost slipped off the fountain but Peter caught her and set her down.
“But aren’t fairy godmothers supposed to be old and tiny?”
Lydia gave him an indignant look. “I’m neither. It doesn’t make me any less competent and don’t ask me to prove it by granting another wish first. I know that it just crossed your mind. So enough. We haven’t got much time, this particular spell only lasts until midnight.”
“What spell?”
“One that will both provide you with proper attire and disguise you from your relatives. Now, are you ready to see what you’ve been missing?” Lydia did not pull out a wand, all she needed to do was wave her fingers. Wands were for pussies.
“What have I got to lose?” Peter decided incredulously.
“Okay then, All you have to do is make a wish.”
And Peter did.
*
Meanwhile, at Castle Argent, Princess Allison Argent was getting fitted for her own outfit and stubbornly insisted that she should be allowed to wear whatever she wanted and gowns were just not her. It being a progressive Kingdom no one thought much about letting the princess have what she wanted. So it was form fitting pants, boots and a fancy jacket for her. Allison tended to spend a lot of time in the training yard with army cadets and especially the young trainee Scott McCall. He was not a nobleman and therefore their friendship wasn’t entirely appropriate but the Prince had decided that his daughter could choose her own friends. It meant that dinner time was less volatile and he could get a word in edgewise. This latest prank, however, would need a suitable punishment after the ball. She’d gone too far this time. Allison was thirteen and needed to learn her place in the world was not a hero of a fantasy novel but eventually a ruler of the kingdom.
He hoped he could find someone who could handle her. Chris sighed as he leaned on the balcony overlooking the Kingdom. He didn’t want any more children because he couldn’t imagine anyone who could measure up to Victoria. She had been his perfect equal in strength of character and spirit. He’d loved her very much. Allison certainly didn’t want him to remarry as she was doing everything she could to prevent it. It was decreed that he had to choose someone.
Chris ran a hand through his hair. The one thing he’d always hated about being the crown prince were the balls and simpering. If only he could just find one person who wasn’t there specifically to be a Queen. He hated the thought of having to live his life with someone he barely knew but the old man had been adamant. He almost felt like giving up the kingdom entirely and letting Allison have it but she was too young and headstrong. He couldn’t do that to her. Not yet. He watched the people down below moving about and getting everything ready for the night.
“Daddy?” Allison’s voice came from the doorway.
He turned around and gave a soft gasp of surprise. She wasn’t in pants as he was lead to believe. She’d have looked beautiful in whatever she wanted to wear but in this case she had chosen to relent. The gown was a glorious silver with blue and indigo trimmings. She bit her lip and shifted from one foot to the other. “Oh, Allison, you didn’t have to.” Chris chuckled in spite of his earlier mulling about a punishment for her actions.
“I messed up your ball.” Allison looked down at the floor. “So I kind of had to.”
“Oh, you didn’t, sweetheart. You know men make just as good spouses as women do.” He strode over to give her a warm hug.
“Are you going to choose a man?” Allison gazed at him.
“We’ll see, won’t we? Why don’t you do me a favor and keep on the lookout for someone you think would make a good husband.” Chris’ eyes twinkled at her.
Allison beamed.
Teenagers were strange creatures with wild mood swings and apparently this didn’t exclude his daughter. Her mood and changed entirely from what it was this morning when she insisted that she didn’t want to go to the ball at all.
Since it was time for him to get ready, his daughter took her leave.
*
Peter huffed, “There are sparkles on my face.” He gave Fairy Godmother Lydia a displeased look. “Why are there sparkles on my face?”
Lydia rolled her eyes, “You’re going to need the distraction effect, yes? You don’t want your sister to figure out who you are.” She snapped her fingers and silver filigree wove itself into Peter’s jacket. “Hmmm.” She considered with a slight purse of her lips. She stepped back to take a look at her handiwork. “So, what do you think?” She spread her hands and created a mirror for him to see the results.
Peter stared at himself and frowned faintly. He hadn’t worn anything like this in a long time. Not since before their parents died. He looked fantastic, not that he didn’t always look fantastic, but this time it was perfect. He was magically shaved to a perfectly flawless smooth look. The silver, white and black look was good on him. It was solid, smooth. She’d added little details in the seems, a sparkle of blue. Just enough to add a little beguiling look. He chuckled when he saw what she’d done to the choker.
“Your sister would recognize it.” said Lydia. “So I added a little something.” She’d made the ebony leather band into a thin crystal one that shimmered blue in the light. The blue brought out his eyes. She leaned up against him and purred. “You look like a wet dream. If I was human, I’d let you fuck me.”
“What kind of fairy godmother are you? You’re half my age. No need to be crude.” Peter sidestepped away from her. “Alright, so how am I supposed to get to this thing?”
Lydia giggled, twirled around and pointed at the dog. With some spectacular whooshing and additional sparkles he suddenly turned into a dashing white stallion complete with saddle. “He’ll go faster than the wind.” She grinned. “But remember, you have to be out of there before midnight.”
“Why midnight?”
“When the clock strikes twelve the spell will break. You’ll be Peter again and the magic will be gone. Now, go! Have the time of your life! Show off a little. Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled out a bottle of perfume. “This to mask your scent.” With a little grin she doused him with it.
Lydia watched as Peter got up on the “Horse” easily and she twitched her fingers again to give it a little spark and off they went.
*
Chris had never been so bored in his entire life. The evening had started off tedious and just kept getting worse and worse. The event itself had started at five. He’d already been forced to dance with six people. What was worse was that he could hardly remember anyone’s names and none of them stuck out. His daughter eventually noticed his distress and brought him a much needed drink after the seventh dance. “I’m exhausted and it’s not even seven yet.”
“Anyone interesting?” Allison asked her father with a chuckle.
He grimaced back at her. He was not as young as he used to be and keeping up with teenagers was difficult. Some he was sure were not yet eighteen. His feet had already been trod on a few times and someone kicked him in the shin. He glanced wearily over at his father who was starting to look angry. Chris hadn’t danced with anyone twice yet and there were still so many people to meet. Each one couldn’t hold a candle to Victoria and he couldn’t imagine sleeping next to them.
“N…” Whatever Chris was about to say died on his lips because that was when he arrived. He came into the light at the top of the grand staircase without an introduction. Apparently the majordomo was too flustered to say anything from how he was stumbling with his clipboard. His eyes were riveted to the man. He finished the last of the drink Allison had given him and set it down.
He stood at the top of the staircase as though he owned the place. He’d even captured his father’s attention. He wasn’t young, nor was he old. He lifted his head high as he surveyed the ball like he done it a thousand times. An insolent smile played across his lips as his eyes shone a vivid blue. It had Chris’ stomach in knots. He was a Werewolf, and he was fucking beautiful. The black and silver outfit he wore was a rich shining material that sort of dazzled and sparkled as he moved. It was a little disorienting if you stared too long.
His face was etched as if someone had deliberately designed him to be completely unique. High cheekbones and a sharp angled jawline, perfectly shaped ears, luxurious brown hair. He wanted to nibble on those ears, and lick that gloriously thick neck. Chris’ mouth ran dry as his eyes dropped to watch the pants cling to his thighs as he walked down the staircase. Those thighs made the Prince wonder how they’d feel wrapped around him. He took in everything, every last detail. He was sure he’d never seen the man before in his life. Who was he? Others were apparently asking the same question. An unknown Werewolf.
His heart thudded in his chest and he swallowed several times as he tried to force his brain to work. There was something else around his throat which drew Chris’ gaze. It was a fucking collar. A choker, a sign of pride. He knew that Werewolves of the past were dangerous but some had chosen to use their powers for good. A choker was a sign of that. The choker also meant that he was the male heir of whatever Werewolf family he was a part of.
He was approached by several nobles for the next dance to which he accepted. Chris watched him from the other side of the room with Allison. He moved fluidly with arrogant grace and his eyes challenged the world. The entire room was watching him, fixated almost as if they were caught in his spell. That lasted only a moment until the dance started and then things became normal again.
Chris grabbed one of his aids immediately and demanded that the name of the man in silver and black be found. He looked at his daughter in annoyance, “What?”
“I’ve just never seen you get so distracted by anyone.” Allison chuckled. “I’ll go ask around about him.”
Chris just nodded and rubbed his forehead. He needed air. A lot of air. His body was racing with heat and uncomfortable realization. He was fucking hard. “I’m going to the garden. I’ll be back. I just need air.” he huffed and practically ran from the ballroom.
Once outside in the garden he exhaled and let the cool air calm him down. He’d never had this reaction to anyone before. His body had never reacted on its own. He paced a little frantically. “Calm down, calm down.” Chris muttered to himself. There were other werewolves at the ball, they would have noticed. He was so out of his element. He didn’t know if he could go back in there but he wanted to. He wanted badly to ask that person to dance.
Allison found him out in the garden after a few dances had gone by. He’d finally got himself under control.
"He’s new.” She told her father with a grin. “He’s not from this Kingdom. They say he was just passing through when he saw the notices for the ball and decided to come and presented his credentials to the guards. He doesn’t know anyone and isn’t here to stay.”
“What about his name?” Chris asked. “His family? Anything important.”
“No one’s managed to get that yet. They’re too dazzled after they leave the dance with him.” Allison snickered. “They’re fairly sure he’s just here to have fun.”
Chris frowned, suspicious about the fact that no one had been able to get any details yet. He’d calmed down now from his initial reaction and now he was intensely curious. He absolutely had to know. He was forced to dance with a couple more people before he finally managed to get the stranger’s attention.
He looked Chris up and down briefly as though he was slightly confused at first as to why the man was asking him. He was intelligent, however and quickly must have realized who Chris was based on the regalia, and the crown. “Oh,” The Werewolf gave the Prince a wide smile, appreciating everything he saw. “Of course,” his bow was decidedly less than humble.
Chris smirked and took his hand. Heat traveled up his body from the first touch. He schooled his features and did his damndest to control himself. The twinkle in the werewolf’s eyes made it clear that he knew.
“I’m flattered.” The Werewolf smiled as they danced. “I should tell you, Sweet Prince. I’m not here to get married.”
“Then why are you here?” Chris asked him. He was having trouble getting his brain to ask the relevant questions. Like who are you, where are you from? But for some reason they seemed superfluous now.
“You have plenty in the room to choose from.” The werewolf chuckled. “And I am only here to have a little fun, I am not here to stay. I don’t belong in your perfect, precious world but I know you’ve been watching me.”
Chris scowled, he didn’t like the Werewolf’s condescending tone. He was about to retort but his partner licked his lips as if he was famished for something to drink. All he could think about was that tongue and getting between those lips. And fuck, he was hard again.
“Well, well.” The werewolf looked wholly amused. “You do have a problem.”
“Just shut up and dance.” Chris said between his teeth. His eyes smoldered as he concentrated. The werewolf was unbalancing him and he couldn’t wait for the song to be over and get as far away from the enchanting creature as possible. But he also didn’t want to ever stop dancing with the beautiful man in his arms. “Who are you?” he asked breathlessly.
“First you tell me to shut up, then you ask me to speak. Make up your mind, your highness .”
The way the werewolf spoke his title set Chris’ teeth on edge. He glared hotly only to meet the most intense eyes he’d ever seen. He wanted to kiss that smirk off the man’s face and bend him over the nearest table so badly he almost forgot who he was. He wanted to see his ass bare and begging for him. He knew he was getting stares from other werewolves and rumors were already flying. The dance would end soon and this would be the last time he’d ever have the man in his arms. Unless he got a second dance and that would mean a proposal. He knew his attraction wasn’t one-sided either. It was just something in the way the Werewolf held himself and just looked .
Unfortunately, he must have been mistaken because towards the end of the dance he felt the Werewolf pull away from him emotionally.
“Don’t. Don’t ask me again.” The Werewolf smiled kindly at him, and perhaps a little sadly as the song ended. He bowed this time, politely and elegantly. His agreeable farewell, “Your Highness.” hit Chris in the stomach as though someone had punched him.
It was only a few moments before he had to dance with someone else and then another person and time dragged on. Just like his life. Who was he dancing with now? Another Werewolf. One of the Hales. Derek. He was handsome but Chris kept trying to find the beautiful blue-eyed man in the crowd. Chris was tied up in dances for quite some time before he could get away again. He couldn’t help it. He had to find the man. “Where is he?” He asked Allison. He knew his daughter had been keeping an eye on the stranger.
“He went out into the garden just after you started dancing with Lord Hale. Dad, he looked sad. What did you do?” Allison asked him worriedly. “Did you ask him his name? Who is he? Scott hasn’t been able to find out either.”
“No, I don’t know.” Chris looked almost desperate. “Do something to distract the King. I have to find him.”
Chris immediately started in the garden. It was fairly big so the wolf could be pretty much anywhere. He walked farther in and nodded to other people taking the air. Where was the man? He’d almost given up when out of the corner of his eye he spotted him over by the fountain. He was casually lounging on bench, gazing up at the stars in the sky and smiling. The half moon graced the garden with it’s light providing Chris with a breathtaking sight.
“I’m sorry,” said the Prince immediately as the Wolf noticed him and looked instantly on his guard.
He laughed softly when he saw the Prince. “Are you one of those spoiled little boys who only wants what they can’t have?”
“No,” Chris snorted. If anything, his father only begrudgingly let him have what he had now. “I don’t even want a wedding. My father ordered this whole thing.” Chris sat down next to the wolf who scooted over.
“Hm.” The wolf chuckled. “You should be inside, not out here with me.”
"I’m right where I want to be.” Chris shrugged. “Walk with me?” There was too much chance they would get stumbled upon in this area of the garden. He knew a place they could go.
“You barely know me.” The wolf got to his feet gracefully. “How do you know you’re safe with me, Sweet Prince?”
“I just know.” Chris didn’t know either but there was just something in his gut that told him it was safe. He offered the wolf his arm. The wolf made a displeased sound and reluctantly accepted. “Is there nothing I can do to get you to stay?”
“Alas, I have duties elsewhere and I leave tonight.” The wolf shrugged. “I told you, I’m not here to be married. I’m just here to have fun.”
A few hours? That’s all he had. Chris swallowed, fighting the lump in his throat. “I promise you I’m not like this, and yet here we are.” He grinned as they walked amiably through the garden and eventually got to the secluded butterfly garden. Not many people knew about the twist in the garden maze that led to this wonderful spot his mother had designed. There was a stone wall nearby and abruptly Chris felt himself being shoved back into it as the wolf kissed him.
Now, Chris had been kissed before, it was not a new act for him, but this? This was something quite different. He felt the kiss with every fiber of his being. He accepted the wolf’s tongue at first and let the man explore. It was sinful and passionate and his cock was so painfully hard he almost sagged against the wolf. It was new for him, this barrage of emotions, this painful, all-consuming need. He was always in control, always completely the master of the situation.
In this moment, on this night, he was no longer a proud Prince. He was a slave to a pair of the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He would gladly get down on his knees and worship the man kissing him. “Oh god,-” Chris moaned. The heat in his mouth made him dizzy and he’d had to break the kiss to breathe. He gazed at the eyes of the stranger in dazed confusion. What was happening to him? He’d never experienced anything like this before.
The man who’d kissed him didn’t seem unaffected himself. “You smell so good.” He whispered fiercely. He stroked Chris’ cheek, playing with his fingers in the Prince’s beard. “I want you all over me, your scent. But, god, I’m not here for this.” He looked almost panicked. “We should stop. You should let me go, and pretend you never saw me.” He gave a soft miserable sound as Chris attacked his jaw with kisses and worked his way down his neck.
“No,” Chris shook his head. “I could never forget you.” He reached up and ran his fingers through the dark locks, down to crystal choker around his neck. “You’re an Heir.” He fingered the triskelion at the base of the wolf’s throat. The Hales weren’t the only pack with that symbol, it signified a powerful name. “You’re from a powerful Werewolf family. Tell me your name.”
Somehow the way Chris’ fingers played over the small stones made the wolf quiver with excitement. He nodded reluctantly. “I’m not supposed to be here.” He admitted to the Prince. He groaned when Chris lifted the choker slightly and licked and kissed under it.
“Yes you are.” Chris rumbled with a sudden grin. “My father obstinately invited every single noble in the land, and you were in the land.” He lifted his eyes and rested his forehead against the wolf’s. Up close Chris got a good idea that the man wasn’t as magical as he’d first appeared to be. He was warm and real and firm. They were up against the stone wall of the garden shed. Chris with his back to the wall and the wolf pressed against him.
“Why do you have to marry again?” The wolf reached up to rest his arms over Chris’ shoulders.
“Traditions.” Chris shrugged, “And my daughter needs a…” It all sounded so trite when he spoke of it now. Chris grimaced at the whole thing. “I didn’t really need to. My father insisted, and you have no idea what he’s like.”
“He’s the King.” The wolf grinned with a conspiratorial wink. “I have someone like that in my life.”
They could easily slip into it here, easily fuck. Chris knew it, the wolf knew it. All it would take would be one of them touching the other, instigating the first move towards the point of no return. He had never wanted anything more in his life than to just take that step and claim the man before him. They couldn’t stop kissing and touching.
“I want to fuck you so badly,” the wolf’s words surprised him. “I can barely think.”
“Fuck me?” Chris laughed softly. “What makes you think I’d let you?”
“Mmm. I get the feeling I could ask you for anything right now, and you’d give it to me.” The wolf chuckled in response.
“Evil.” Chris nuzzled against him. He knew people were going to be looking for him soon. His daughter could only only hold off his father for so long. “I don’t know where to start.”
“How about we just dance here and enjoy ourselves?” The wolf asked with a little smile. “We can hear the music. I’ve got a bit more time left.”
“When do you leave?” If Chris had been thinking straight he would be appalled by the petulant tone he was using as he clutched the wolf’s jacket.
“Midnight.” The wolf chuckled as if it was some sort of joke. They did begin to dance but that didn’t last long before they were back up against the wall and kissing again. “Gnnnh…” This time it wasn’t Chris with his back to the wall.
He gazed at the wolf with a desperate look. “I want to do this properly. I don’t want to do this in a garden where my guards can come up on us any minute.”
“I’ll hear them if they’re on the way.” The wolf licked at his lip where Chris had bitten him earlier. It was already healing. “Let me?”
Chris couldn’t say no. It was on the tip of his tongue to say no and he knew he should but nothing in the world could make him refuse that offer. He nodded and they stumbled into the garden shed and the wolf got to his knees.
He was a Prince, he should be above this sort of thing. He should be in the ballroom with his guests giving everyone a chance. He didn’t care. This was the man he wanted. If he had to marry someone? The blue-eyed beauty on the floor was it.
Chris leaned back against a table while the wolf quickly undid the buttons of his trousers. His pants pooped down to his feet and he shifted his legs open. He was already hard and sucked in his breath as the wolf nuzzled him with his cheek. At this rate he really wasn’t going to last very long and he wanted to savor it.
The wolf’s long fingers played with his balls briefly and he looked up at Chris. The Prince’s fingers tightened in his hair. He had done this before, that much was clear, and he certainly didn’t want to waste any time. It wasn’t long before his cock was hitting the back of his throat and he couldn’t remember why he thought this was a bad idea in the first place.
It wasn’t romantic.
It was simply a fulfillment of a need that built up between them the moment they laid eyes on each other. He pushed into the wolf’s throat and felt his tongue and the soft little whimpers that vibrated along his shaft and he was lost. The pressure was simply too much. He gripped the wolf’s shoulder possessively with one hand, and his head with the other and fucked himself into the wolf’s throat.
Chris wanted to own him, worship him, love him, lay down his life for him. He wanted to give him everything and all of the above. He was going to come soon and he knew that he should pull out and give the wolf a chance to breathe. He also knew that he wasn’t hurting him. The collar however, unhooked and he kept it in his hand. The wolf didn’t struggle to pull off and kept up with his rhythm. Sucking and licking, fondling his balls and encouraging him to come.
It wasn’t a fairy tale.
It wasn’t romance.
It wasn’t just lust either. Chris cried out when he came finally. His seed spilled out into the wolf’s mouth and was eagerly welcomed. He shuddered and whined and wiped sweat from his brow. He knew what he was going to look like when he re-entered the ballroom. He panted from exertion and stared as the wolf pulled off his cock lifted his hand to his lips to wipe off the cum.
Chris stopped him. He held the wolf’s wrist in his hand and just stared. He was unbelievable. Chris wasn’t sure where he came from or what his name was or his family. He just knew he had to have him. He couldn’t let him go. He leaned down and kissed the cum off of the wolf’s lips. “You’re beautiful.” he whispered. “So fucking perfect.”
And the wolf let him do whatever he wanted, not that there was much time left.
Sometime later once they had straightened up, Chris nuzzled a kiss into the wolf’s neck. “That was amazing.”
The wolf just chucked. He traced the worry lines on Chris’ forehead and pushed his hair back into place. “To borrow a cliche, you’re not so bad yourself. I wish I had more time.”
“About that-” Chris began.
He was given a sad, apologetic look. “One time only.” The wolf put his fingers to the Prince’s lips. “I’ll never forget this, Christopher. I-” Suddenly the wolf shifted his demeanor entirely the moment the first bell sounded to announce the impending midnight hour. Abruptly he pulled away from Chris. “Shit, I’ve got to go. Look, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Wait!” Chris grabbed his arm. He still held wolf’s choker in his hand. “Tell me your name.”
“No. But thank you, truly.” He rested the back of his hand against Chris’ cheek and caressed it briefly. “You’ve made my life better with just this night.” With that the wolf started to run.
He was fast and Chris had to dodge guards who had been looking for the Prince. He was also slowed down by guests and relations and momentarily lost sight of him. The wolf ran through the garden and shoved through the crowd at the ball.
“No, get off me!” Chris shrugged off guards and chased after the wolf. “Wait! Please!” He cried desperately.
Peter didn’t wait. He kept moving even as the bells continued to chime. He bumped into someone and nearly bounced off him when he realized who it was. He gave his nephew Derek a wide eyed, terrified look. The spell was wearing off and he wasn’t sure if Derek recognized him or not. His nephew, normally a thoughtless dandy, did in fact seem to recognize him. Surprisingly, he was not given away.
“Go.” Derek mouthed with an amused grin.
“Thank you.” Peter mouthed back and kept running. Anyone who got in his way was shoved aside, some he actually hurt. There was a great uproar as Chris shouted for guards to stop him and Derek ‘accidentally’ got in his way briefly.
A fourth bell rang.
The great doors closed blocking Peter’s exit. He looked around wildly and saw no other recourse. He would have to use his werewolf strength, partially shift and jump through the window. The moon shone down as he shifted, form shadowed by the light. He backed up and leaped through it.
Chris watched in horror as he didn’t let that stop him and barreled through a glass window. The shattering results created screams of horror and confusion. Chris only managed to make it to the top of the steps in time to see him get on a white stallion.
“Just tell me your name!” Chris cried out.
“Don’t follow me!” Peter looked over his shoulder at the Prince with as cold an expression as he could muster. If he stayed his family would recognize him, he would be disgraced. “Forget about me!”
Chris watched as he clutched the crystal collar in his hand. “I’ll find you!” He called after the fleeing wolf.
“What are you waiting for?!” The King furiously ordered the guards. “After him! Don’t let him get away!”
Chris stood in confusion as he stared at the cloud of dust left in the wake of the white stallion. His daughter was immediately at his side, “Dad?”
“Oh Dad, I’m sorry.” Allison put her arms around her father and hugged him tightly.
*
The palace guards did not notice the man covered in mud and his dog limping at his side later on down the road as they searched for the mysterious stranger. Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He’d almost been caught and it would have been a disaster, his family would have been disgraced. It was better this way. He lifted his head and smiled. He’d had a taste of happiness. He’d been kissed for the first time. He couldn’t help but smile. Chris Argent was nothing like he’d expected.
All he’d really wanted to do at the ball was dance and have fun, he hadn’t expected to meet anyone. It was impossible anyway. “A dream, Gus. It was just a wonderful dream.” Gus gave him a snort and yawn. It was a long way home. He couldn’t help but hum the song of the dance that he’d shared with Chris and the memory of the way the man had looked at him.
Obviously it had been the spell. No one would ever look at him that way normally. Still, it had been a wonderful, magical night that he would never forget. His future didn’t involve fancy palaces, happy endings and sexy Princes. His future was serving at the Hale House until he died. That was the price he paid for living.
He sighed and patted Gus who whined up at him. “It’s alright, buddy. We’ll get back easily enough.” He refused to think of what ifs. He’d never felt like that with anyone, never wanted to touch and take and kiss until time stopped. Chris had smelled so good, so right, the perfect blend of all the enticing scents that made his skin tingle. It was just as well that he heard that first midnight bell, he might have let Chris do whatever he wanted.
As things stood he couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t all just a the glamour of a spell. A perfect spell. He hummed a bit on the way home, feeling like he could face the rest of his life now. He’d had a small moment of happiness. That was all he deserved. When he finally made it home he saw Lydia swinging her legs by the fountain looking immensely pleased with herself.
“Well, How did it go? Was it all you dreamed of? Did you have fun? Meet someone?” She fluttered excitedly around him as he entered the kitchen to hang up his jacket and wash his face with cold water.
“I’m tired.” Peter told her plainly. “I really just want to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
“Oh!” Lydia’s hand flew to her mouth as she studied the look on his face. “Oh honey. I didn’t meant for any of that to happen. It wasn’t a love spell. Is that what’s put that long face on? If not, you should march right back there and-!”
“Lydia,” Peter laughed softly. “It was wonderful. I had a great time, thank you for everything but I’m fine, really.”
“Who did you meet that has you so flushed? Is he single? Where does he live?” Lydia’s eyes sparkled, “OH! Oh I could go on a scouting mission for you!”
“Weren’t you just supposed to help me go to the ball and then leave like a good fairy godmother?” Peter asked mildly. “Why are you still here?”
“Well, My mission isn’t over. You’re not happy. And where’s the choker?” Lydia frowned.
Peter’s hand flew to his neck. He must have lost it. “Oh fuck,” Peter gazed around anxiously. “Talia is going to kill me. He’s got it.”
“Who has it?” Lydia’s eyebrows raised.
“The Prince.” Peter gestured lamely with one hand and sagged against the wooden food preparation table. “Prince Christopher.” He gave a wistful sigh which caused Lydia to giggle.
“You got the Prince’s attention?!?” Lydia shrieked and then fist bumped the air. She fluttered into the air showing her transparent wings for the first time which freaked out Peter a little.
“Really, you should leave.” Peter gave her an exasperated look. “My sister is going to be back soon and I want to clean up.”
Lydia rolled her eyes and waved a hand. Peter was instantly clean and transformed into his normal attire. A threadbare, simple v-neck, trousers and boots. “That was a freebee.” Lydia grinned mischievously. “Now, what to do about your Prince?!”
“He’s not MY anything.” Peter retorted.
“He could be!”
“No, he really couldn’t.” Peter laughed a little bitterly as he grabbed a lantern and made his way up the staircase to his room as Lydia bounced and skipped behind him.
“You’re not thinking outside the box. Why shouldn’t you have dreams? And besides. You’re the heir to the Hale’s fortune. YOU should be the one they present. Not Derek.” Lydia pointed out.
“It’s not that simple anymore, Lydia.” Peter shook his head.
“She has you under her thumb. You’re afraid of your own sister.” Lydia raised an eyebrow.
“She’s the Alpha.”
“You should have been, that’s what my notes say. You should have been the Alpha and would have if-”
“If I hadn’t caused our parent’s death?” Peter’s shoulders sagged slightly. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done. I really do. Tonight was everything, I don’t need anymore help.”
“If that’s what you want.” Lydia huffed.
“It’s what I want. Thank you.” Peter unlocked his door and went inside. Thankfully, the fairy didn’t follow him. He looked down at the old mattress on the floor and stretched out on it. Eventually He heard his sister come home with her children and grimaced when he heard Stiles screech for drinks. Apparently his cousin’s son was not in the mood to sleep. Well, great. That meant he wouldn’t get any sleep anytime soon. Stiles could go on forever.
Lydia wasn’t done yet, though. Peter didn’t deserve what happened to him and he was under the misguided impression that he was responsible for his parent’s death. She was going to fix all that.
*
Time passed and Prince Christopher Argent was unable to find the identity of the man he’d fallen in love with at first sight. A cliche to be sure but the only clue he had was that the man was an heir of a Werewolf family. All of the families in the Kingdom were accounted for and Christopher knew that the wolf was not from the Kingdom of Beacon hills which meant he was a visitor. Someone had to know him. He refused any cajoling of his father to force him into marriage. He’d found the one he wanted and he wouldn’t settle for anything less.
“It’s ridiculous, Christopher!” Gerard shouted. “You don’t even know his name!”
“I don’t care, disown me. I never wanted to be King anyway!” Chris shouted back.
The argument happened daily sometimes more than once. So Allison knew that she would have to come up with a plan to find the stranger before all hell broke loose in the Palace or her grandfather decided to throw her father into the dungeons. At almost fourteen she had a tendency to be more interested in archery, hunting and riding than she was in dresses and parties. Unfortunately the only way to find out who the mysterious man was would be going to each and every Werewolf House in the Kingdom and asking.
She brought the idea to her father who dismissed it as being nonsense because he was not even from the Kingdom. Allison wasn’t so sure. Something about the entire situation didn’t feel right to her.
“How could he get past security without giving his name?” She’d demanded of Scott. A boy a few years older than her who worked for the palace guard.
“It wouldn’t be possible.” Scott screwed up his nose adorably. He had an off centered jaw which Allison just loved to tease him about but secretly adored.
“So it had to be magic right?
“It would have to be.” Scott nodded. “Do you think he put a spell on your father?”
“I don’t think so.” Allison shook his head. “He wasn’t there for my father. Dad said he was there to have fun, not to get married. If he was there for my Dad, why would he run?”
“You’ve got a good point.” Scott nodded. “What about that collar?”
“It’s the same symbol every Werewolf House gives their first born heir and they pass it down. The Triskelion. The only difference is the pretty crystal band. Normally it’s leather.” Allison shrugged. “No one in this Kingdom has one like that, we’ve checked the archives. Usually the family name is written in the leather.”
“Maybe a spell was put on the collar?” Scott suggested.
“I like the way you think!” Allison beamed at her friend and giggled when he flushed. She turned and rushed off to find her father.
*
It had been nearly two weeks since the ball without any success in finding the mysterious man. Chris hadn’t given up though. He was talking with
one of his advisors when his daughter skidded into his chambers with her suggestion that they get the collar examined for magic. Consequently he’d summoned Sir Alan Deaton, who knew a lot about magic even if he wasn’t an actual practitioner.
“Interesting,” said Alan. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” He turned the collar over a few times. “You’re right,” he nodded at Allison. “There is a spell on it.”
Allison beamed up at her father. “You see! I told you so. Now all we have to do is remove the spell and the family name will be revealed!”
Chris gave Allison a proud look and patted her shoulder fondly.
Sir Alan Deaton’s new assistant, Lydia, gave a wide smile. Dressed inconspicuously with her red hair braided and a pair of spectacles on her nose no one would suspect a thing. She would certainly help this along now that they finally realized there was magic on the collar.
Thankfully, It did not take them that much time to come up with the solution for removing the spell after she supplied several helpful suggestions. She was actually rather surprised the spell hadn’t broken by now. With magic, one could never be certain. Perhaps because it hadn’t been around Peter’s neck at the time the spell didn’t break.
A little flicker of her fingers helped when the solution finally worked and the crystal transformed into old, fine leather. The name was finally revealed.
Hale.
Ahah! Thought Lydia, success! Surely they’ll find Peter now?
“Hm,” said Alan. “Curious.”
“The Hale family?” Chris wracked his brain. “They were at the ball, weren’t they?” He looked at Allison and she nodded.
“I remember them being introduced.” Allison frowned as she tried to recollect. “But they came early. And the man you’re talking about, he entered late.”
"Your Highness, there is something you should know.” Alan frowned.
This is it! Lydia tried to hide her excited look.
“The Heir to the Hale Werewolf Family is a woman. Her name is Laura.” Alan looked troubled.
Lydia wanted to bang her head against a wall. She didn’t make Alan’s current assistant stay home with a bad case of bowel movements for this!
Chris stared at Alan as he fingered the collar. “Was it a transformation spell? Did she come as a male?”
Allison shook her head, “I was introduced to Laura Hale at the ball. She danced every dance. You even danced with her once.”
“Is there anyone else it could belong to? Any other males?” Chris gripped the table. “Tell me!”
“There’s one other male in the family, Derek Hale. He was at the ball too.” Allison remembered most names. She was clever like that. “He was introduced along with Laura and their sister and cousin. I can’t remember the cousin’s name.”
“Cousin?” Chris looked hopeful that no one remembered the cousin’s name.
Alan Deaton just shrugged. “I don’t know. I only know that Talia Hale had three children; Derek, Laura and Cora.”
Chris exchanged a look with Allison. “I’m going to need to arrange a visit to the Hales. At the very least, they might know who he is. Perhaps he’s related.” His long expression changed into a cautiously hopeful one at the welcome news.
Allison beamed at the way her father’s face lightened with hope.
Lydia would fist bump the air but that would draw way too much attention.
*
The past couple of weeks went as per usual. Peter noticed that Derek treated him with a bit more kindness and then it happened. Talia received an official notice via a herald from the King announcing a royal visit. The Prince was apparently visiting all of the local nobility and they were next on the list. They had to be prepared to receive his highness and his daughter. The household was in an uproar and Peter? He could not face the Prince. How had he found out? Did he know? He had to figure out how to completely avoid the man except that he would be making the dinner.
Maybe he could hide in the kitchen.
Derek found him in the garden the day before, “did you know what you were doing when you went to the ball?” He asked Peter in a low voice as he knew otherwise they could be overheard.
“I don’t want him to find me. Can you help?” Peter implored Derek.
Derek sniffed, “I think you’re too hard on yourself and you should consider talking to him if he’s gone to all this trouble looking for you.”
Peter gave him a sour look. “You are no help.”
*
Chris held Allison’s hand all the way to the Hale House as they rode in the royal carriage. He was nervous, it had been over a month and he didn’t know what he’d find. Allison gave him a warm smile. She’d endured countless dinners for him wearing dresses. One more wasn’t going to hurt.
*
If Laura Hale spoke again Allison was going to strangle her. The way she hung on to her father’s arm, simpered at him. Ugh! She was awful. They were all awful. Except Derek perhaps, Derek Hale was a dandy but he wasn’t annoying. The mother, Talia Hale, made the hackles on the back of her neck rise.
They were in the drawing room before dinner, making small talk. Chris was, once again, explaining his reasons for visiting all the houses. Thanking everyone for being at the ball and in general improving relations. They had kept the real reason secret. The way her father’s face fell when cousin Stiles was introduced hurt her heart.
With Peter hiding in the kitchen, Lydia was at her wits end. She had gone to all the trouble of arranging to get Chris here and Peter wasn’t even going to show his face! Hmph! A little magic was in order. Ah, Allison was drinking tea. Lydia was hidden in tiny form behind a nearby vase.
Allison rose up, “I need to use the facilities, my apologies. Would you please direct me?” There was something not right about this family. She was directed and Allison did not actually end up where she was supposed to be. Instead, she followed the sound of someone humming. She poked her head into the kitchen and her jaw dropped.
It was him!
She was sure of it. He was setting out the dishes with care and humming as he worked. He was working, she was sure on the presentation for dinner. “That smells really good.” Allison boldly walked into the kitchen.
Normally he would have noticed beforehand but Peter was too wrapped up in anxiety at the moment. He stared at the Princess and then a soft smile broke out on his lips when she gave him a conspiratorial wink.
He was about to talk to her when he overheard the conversation in the drawing room.
“This was left at the ball. The seal of your house. I felt it was only right to return it to you.” His voice stiff, Chris held up the choker and offered it to Laura.
“Oh dear! I had wondered what had happened to it!” Laura exclaimed and reached for the choker.
“That’s not yours!” Peter flung open the draw room door, face dark with rage as Allison followed. “It’s mine.”
Laura shrieked in surprise and ‘tripped’. In reality, Lydia used magic to make her fall. Laura fell flat on her face in Chris’ lap and spilled her wine over his highness. The choker sailed through the room and Stiles made a grab for it but Derek grabbed him and caught it.
“He’s quite right.” Derek said with a raise of his chin, in spite of his mother’s look of outrage. “It belongs to my uncle.” He walked over to Peter and pressed the collar in his hand. “Peter Hale. May I have the pleasure of presenting you to his highness, Christopher Argent, Prince of Beacon Hills?”
Peter gave him a frustrated look and was about to lower his head when he met Chris’ gaze. Chris helped Laura off his lap and stood up. He looked proud and regal as he approached Peter.
“The pleasure is mine,” Chris took one of Peter’s hands and lifted it to his lips. He kissed the back of the wolf’s knuckles. “I told you I would find you.”
Peter snatched his hand away and stuffed the collar in his apron pocket. “And I told you not to.” The snap to his words were eased by the way he couldn’t help looking at the Prince.
Derek kept Stiles firmly in place. Stiles didn’t mind for once.
Cora giggled and soothed her elder sister’s ruffled ego.
Allison beamed happily.
“This is outrageous!” Talia exclaimed. “He is not the heir! I am. I am the Alpha! This is my house! Mine!”
“I think you’ll find, Alpha Talia, that I don’t really care. Unless you’re planning on breaking the treaty and attacking me, that is.” Chris lifted his head and stared down the Alpha.
Talia balked at the very idea.
And so The Prince took a step closer to Peter and offered his arm. “Walk with me?”
“Oh, alright .” Peter sighed as if it was the worst thing in the world anyone could have asked.
And they lived Snarkily Ever After.
*Fin*