Chapter 12

 "Trenton!" The Prince's obsidian eyes were filled with hatred as he turned to her.

"You have to love me." She couldn't sense her chin wobbling or her tears falling but she heard everything and so much more in her voice.

His eyes.

Sheer fury didn't cut it. He despised her.

Taut jaws, blank eyes, fists clenched, and it was all towards her.

"No. I really don't."

And the scenery changed to another relentless dream before she could steadily rise from her haze.

She still remembered the way her body burned when she had the flu.

It was the first time she went through the year without any vaccine shots, and it was just her luck the flu came its jolly way to her system. At first, it started out as any cold would, but Tylenol wore off quickly as her fever should have broken in the early stages of anything.

Being a werewolf meant better stamina and burning everything incompatible with her body, but it didn't make her immune to every virus.

The influenza she caught made her suffer for long nights of fever and chills, a combination she never thought was possible. Sweat formed all over her body yet she was freezing and turned on the heater. She wrapped blanket over blanket over her freezing body while brushing sweaty hair off her forehead.

She had never felt so conflicted to grab more blankets or run an ice-cold bath. She swore to never skip out on a shot ever again.

Well, she didn't. But her body felt the same as she did then.

The unwelcome memories from the Throne Room entered through her head with no filter. What was even worse than the pain itself was relieving it in full memory.

I'm never standing up for Lady Rosaline, ever again. Ugh.

The pain was what forced her to break through the daze of many dreams. The dull slow-burning mounted into a severe discomfort forcing her to lay on her back. Probably not the wisest decision after a lashing, but she wasn't exactly conscious to be making well-placed judgments.

She was stopped by a warmth on her shoulder which she flinched as the touch itself inflicted a spark of pain. Any minuscule movement spread fire to her back as she hissed lowly in pain.

"That will not be wise, Lady Elise." A low rumble stopped her. The fatigue seeping hinted the owner had not slept for long hours.

She wrenched an eye heavily to see a sitting figure next to the crimson duvet, a sharp contrast of dark green chinos perched on the bedside stool.

"What-" Her croak was embarrassing at the very least, and a wet towel quickly sponged her cracked lips. She sputtered slightly as the carer applied more force than expected. The towel dropped as quickly as it came and a hand cradled her cheek.

"I'm sorry, The physician told me to moisturize- to sponge your lips- is this not working?" She closed her eyes to smile gently.

"No, Trenton. You're just- stronger than you think." Her body didn't allow anything above a mumble but the Prince must have heard her when his long fingers brought the towel more tenderly to her lips.

When her vision cleared, it became more significant that his hand was shaking, and she moved her gaze worryingly from the bedside table to his face. The Prince's face was dim as he brought down his hands.

His eyes shuttered as he tilted his head to the ceiling showing his adam's apple in an appealing way. He gulped before staring intently at the empty space above her head, refusing eye contact.

"The lengths you go to convince me is breaking me, Lady Elise."

"How did you- Did you- did you bring me here?" She winced as she felt her breath collapse at the unexpected shiver that ran across her. "Alexander?" His upper body tensed at the mention of the other Alpha. His hands flexed discretely as if he didn't want to show her nerve.

"Lord Alexander noticed me of- of your punishment." He was below guttural when he ground his teeth at the statement.

Her brows arched. "He came to you?"

"Fortunately." His hazel eyes sought hers as he continued. "I'm truly sorry Elise. If I had known this would have been their next move, I swear- I swear I would've stayed." Her mind jumped to Rosaline before a dark thought flitted through.

Would he have? Really?

"You don't have to love me, you know." She muttered.

"What?" He stopped squeezing the towel at the sudden proposal.

"My memory's coming back, I think," she added defensively, "What I said on the night I drowned. You don't have to love me." Trenton's eyes turned a shade darker.

"I honestly don't remember the context of the conversation to have phrased it like that, but I change my mind." She gave him her best half-shrug. "As you've said, your love isn't essential in the equation. So don't fret on it when you obviously have feelings for Rosaline." Her heart clenched and her wolf gave a warning growl in her head, but logic trumped her feelings.

"Then you have no need of me, then? Just like that?" Her eyes snapped to the steel in his tone. Obsidian seeped into his hazel green, the emeralds tampered beyond repair.

"No- I'm just saying that we don't have to be in an emotional relationship to earn what we both want."

"You are heartless." He scoffed.

She balked at the offense. "Well, You're the one who carried out Rosaline, abandoning me when you could have had someone else to do it."

He waved as if it was nothing, "You should know by now it's only an act to show my favors to the ba Ruslan Pack."

"Like how us being mates is an act?"

His face darkened tremendously at her last words. Silence filled the gaps.

"Look, I'm baring myself for you to use any of my connections to the lu Pavel Pack, and you're an idiot if you turn me away. Stick with acting as you care for me, but I'm saying it's not a requirement. Honestly, how can this be upsetting for you?"

"Was this a grand act as well? To make me sympathize to your cause, and butter me up to your scheming?" He growled out. This time, genuine hurt infiltrated her. Was that what he only thought when she voluntarily tried to help?

"I wanted to get us out of the situation-" she grimaced as her back pulled at the strain, "I wanted to help Rosaline-"

"You sure did help when you forged those letters and stuck them in her room." The Prince was now standing, his height towering over her form on the bed. She forced herself to sit up on the bed despite the stretches of her stitches, too immersed in their argument.

"What are you talking about? You know that's not true." Hurt was evident in her voice and she hated herself for showing weakness to a mate who clearly didn't care for her.

"I knew all that talk about love was nonsense from you. I'm a fool to have thought you actually wanted us to work." He muttered, mostly talking to himself.

"Stop twisting my words, Tristan. Why can't you believe me when I say that I want to help you? Why can't you believe me that I can be good?" She was worked up and could feel her cheeks burning up from the fever, or perhaps anger.

A cynical smile pulled his lips when he sauntered over her form, bending slightly to accommodate her sitting form. With one hand in his pocket, he laid the other, now cold, to her left cheek then to her right.

She shivered at the aftermaths of his touch.

He held her face, cradling it for a little longer as his mocking smile slightly fell, but he quickly plastered his signature smiling mask of indifference as he retreated to give her space.

"Sleep tight." He shut her out.

Her unknowingly strained shoulders dropped as he exited their chambers, pulling a long sigh from her.

She huffed to lay back in her covers, ignoring the trickle of blood down her back. 

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