Cora Queen of All Werewolves

Cora- Chapter 3

Joseph looks less terrible when he’s sleeping. Prince Joseph, I correct myself. He’s asleep on his stomach, his arm under his pillow as his dark hair hangs over his eyes. He looks so… normal. You might think he’s nice looking at him now. I’m not sure that’s true, though.

I sneak out of bed as quietly as possible, terrified to wake him. I need to get dressed, but he’s in here. I know we’re mates and that he’s marked me but letting him see me naked like that seems wrong.

I quietly open the closet, cursing as the old hinges creak with each movement. I grab a dress quickly, pull undergarments from a drawer, and go to the door to leave.

“Where are you going, Mate?” he asks, his voice gruff. I hadn’t even realized he had woken up. His words scare me so badly that I jump.

“To get dressed.”

He rolls to his back, the sheet falling low. He tucks a hand behind his head, making sure that his entire, muscular chest is exposed. I swallow hard. “It’s… I…” I’m so flustered that my cheeks burn.

“We’re mates,” he reminds me with a smirk. “We’re wolves. Tell me, how many males in this pack have seen you naked?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Only when I shifted, though.”

“So you prefer to have your pack see you but not your mate?”

I understand what he’s saying, and I know it seems absurd, but it doesn’t feel the same. I just met him.

He climbs out of bed and approaches me slowly. His eyes never leave mine as he leans forward to whisper in my ear. “You don’t like me.”

What? I don’t even know him, but I don’t want to admit that. “You ripped my dress.”

He stands to his full height, a look of surprise on his face. Prince Joseph walks to my closet, reaching in to move the dresses so he can see them. “I could rip them all.”

“No,” I gasp. “No.”

He turns to me, arching an eyebrow. “Where are the rest of your dresses, Mate? You can’t wear that today.”

He won’t say my name. He continues to call me mate, and that makes me angry. I look down at the cream-colored dress with little blue flowers on it. “That is all of them. What is wrong with this?”

“You’re a princess now,” he says, as if that makes some kind of sense. “You must dress like one.”

I feel so angry. “My parents spent all they had on the dress I wore yesterday. The dress you ripped and stained,” I growl at him. I know it’s a mistake as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I’m so mad. How dare he complain about what I have.

His eyes flash with anger as he turns to me. His entire body is rigid as I wait for him to yell at me. He doesn’t, though.

I can’t stand how he looks at me, so I look away, staring down at the worn floor. “I wasn’t a princess yesterday morning,” I tell him.

When I look up, his eyes are a bit softer. He grabs his shirt and puts it on, buttoning it slowly. I look away when he unbuttons his pants to tuck it in, but I don’t miss his smirk as I begin to move.

“I’ll make breakfast as soon as I’m dressed,” I offer as I keep my back to him.

“There’s no need,” he tells me. “Your family is too poor to have enough food.”

He walks past me and out of the door. I’m furious, but he’s not exactly wrong. The whole pack is poor. We used to make money logging, but once other packs got their own equipment, they didn’t need us anymore. The Alpha never found something to replace the lumber, and now we’re all too poor to exist here much longer.

I get dressed, still choosing to wear the dress the prince didn’t approve of and pull back part of my hair. When I enter the kitchen, I find my mother waiting for me, frowning.

“You didn’t mark him,” she scolds me. “You have one job, Cora.”

I sigh. “Two, actually,” I point out. “You wanted me to convince him to save the pack, too.”

Her eyes flash with anger, but I ignore it. I walk past her to the stove and stir the porridge. Prince Joseph was right. We don’t have enough food here to feed him. He’s the prince. I’m sure he’s not eating bad porridge for breakfast at the palace.

Someday soon, I’ll be there with him. Maybe he’ll be kind enough to get me a few new dresses since he doesn’t like mine. Maybe I’ll finally have enough food. I didn’t eat much last night to make sure there was enough for him, and that’s not something new. I’ve been giving Helen most of my food for months now.

“You have to be a good mate, Cora,” she tells me.

I sigh. “He doesn’t seem to be in a rush,” I tell her. “I’m surprised he didn’t reject me. He doesn’t seem to like me at all.”

“Make him,” she says in a rush. She disappears for a moment and returns with her arms filled with my dresses. “We’ll make you more appealing.”

Mother and I spend the day altering my dresses. She shortens most of them and lowers the necklines. I don’t think Prince Joseph was concerned with that at all and more about the worn, cheap fabric, but I don’t want to point that out to her. She’s consumed with making me look a way that will make him want me.

While she works at the table, I get started on dinner. One of my brothers bought a nice roast earlier that he got for cheap since it was for the prince. I put it into a pot in the oven and set it to cook slowly. I may not be the most attractive shewolf, but I want him to know I can cook.

Mother makes me change dresses before he and father come home. The dress feels too short, and I quickly realize I can’t bend over when I open the oven. I hate this, and she’s already made all the dresses this short.

My Father looks angry when he comes home, but the prince smirks. It doesn’t make me feel like it wants me at all. I think he just wants to laugh at me. While we eat, I feel his fingers wander along the bare skin of my leg, causing me to swat his hand away. He doesn’t say a word but looks at his plate as he smirks.

After dinner, he takes my hand, tugging me to my bedroom. He doesn’t say a word, not even to excuse himself or tell my family goodnight. He closes the bedroom door behind us and stares down at my legs.

“Why did you cut your dress?” he asks.

“I didn’t,” I tell him. “My mother did. She was worried because you did not have me mark you.”

The prince rolls his eyes in a very unroyal way. “Shewolves,” he mutters. “Royals are to have a marking ceremony. The Queen may kill me if I let you complete the marking. She’s already upset I marked you, but I at least did it publicly.”

“Oh,” I say nervously, looking down at my feet.

Prince Joseph grabs my chin, harshly pulling my face up to look at him. “You are not to wear dresses this short. It’s a mockery.”

Tears well in my eyes as I feel foolish. I want him to like me, but I’m not sure that will happen. “She shortened all my dresses,” I whisper.

He sighs and releases my chin. “Fine,” he mutters.

The Prince’s trunk was delivered earlier today. He crosses the room to it calmly, like he’s forgotten he was just angry. He pulls a pair of plaid pants from it and begins to change. I turn away, too nervous to watch him. I’m sure he’ll be upset about this, too.

“You’re my mate,” he says from behind me.

I nod and take a deep breath before turning around. Thankfully, he’s already changed, though he didn’t bother to put a shirt on again. “Undress,” he tells me.

My eyes widen at his request- his demand. He lies in the bed, folding his hands underneath his head as he smirks. “I’m waiting, mate. I want to see what’s mine.”

Nervously and with shaking hands, I undo the three small buttons at the top of my dress and pull it over my head. I hate this. I know my undergarments are not attractive, but they’re what we can afford. I look away, not wanting to see the smirk I’m sure is on his perfect face as I nervously twist my fingers together.

“Keep going, mate,” he says.

What? Keep going? “Everything?” I ask, finally looking up at him.

“Everything.”

I look down and slowly untie the ribbon holding my bra closed. The ends are frayed, and I’m sure he’s noticed. I look at him as I let it slide down my arms, my bare chest now completely exposed to him. He almost looks appreciative, and it gives me the courage I need to slide my underwear down my legs.

I twist my fingers together again and nervously chew on my lip as he stares at me. He doesn’t look repulsed, and I think, for a moment, he might like me. That all changes when he opens his mouth, though.

“You’re too skinny, Mate.”

I take a deep breath, bracing myself for his anger. “My name is Cora.”