Mated to the Alpha King (A Royal’s Tale Book 1)

ALEXANDER BRYCE WILHEM

Watching Miami from an areal view was, in my opinion, the best way to view it at night. Each light and every illuminating traffic—everything had an art about it. But looking at it from the balcony in the most luxurious penthouse, in the most luxurious hotel I owned, seemed like a normal thing now. After all, it seemed all too often that I found myself doing this.

A helpless scoff left my lips as I shook my head. I blamed the impatience and the frailing hope that appeared to be diminishing day by day.

I cursed that day I had vowed against wanting it, ever needing it.

“I don’t want a mate, Father!”

I was a fucking fool.

My grip flexed around the balcony railing, and I closed my eyes as a brisk of cool air hit me square against my face. It seemed sad. I didn’t feel anything but a tickle. My body was warmer than that.

Nine years down and I was now twenty-four. There was no running. It seemed bleak I would ever find my soul mate. Just the thought of never being complete dawned on me, and the boiling temper I had always managed to keep at bay began to make its rare appearance.

I squeezed my eyes and let in a deep breath as I allowed myself to go further, to my beast. The city’s hustle and bustle cleared, sounding louder as I stayed like that—with my eyes closed as I listened to the many conversations that made me feel surrounded as if I wasn’t alone.

I opened my eyes and looked down at the glistening, sparkling scenery of what I knew was the city. A crying woman clutching her stomach crossed the street, trying to hide her tears from everyone around her as though she didn’t want them to notice.

My tense muscles softened when I realized she was pregnant—she held two sets of heartbeat.

I felt for the woman.

My eyes then moved to the man who’d passed her while crossing the street. He had noticed. And somewhere, the romantic in me—the romantic that believed every one of the tales and notions my mother tried to subtly teach me, about what she had learned from all those stacks of romance novels she had—told me that there was a potential between the man and the woman.

But then when the realist in me knocked on the doors of my brain, I scoffed and shook my head in disgust.

I turned towards the balcony door, and the golden eyes reflected in the glass door shone back at me. Out of habit, I straightened my tie before I let my lips release a sigh. Then, I walked back in.

“Had enough of the sightseeing, Alexander?” Alastair asked, his tone blantantly displaying his amusement.

My jaw tightened as I sat down in front of him and poured myself a peck.

Alastair Kinnaird—popularly known in the more-human world as the owner and CEO of Kinnaird Shippings, a company majorly based in Scotland but branching worldwide—was anything but a fleeting business associate. He was also a fellow royal known in my world as the Royal King of Were Scotland.

“Shut it, Kinnaird,” I muttered. I took a sip of the bourbon, feeling the liquid warming my inside.

He chuckled as he leaned further into the white sofa, the amusement he felt watching me clearly showing in his sharp features.

Alastair Kinnaird didn’t spare his good humor to a lot of his people. They knew him to be fair and just but never friendly enough to delude into forming friendship with. His temper was also as widely famous as his highly successful business and royal position, not that I cared. I didn’t give a fuck.

We both knew who would win if we ever decided to fight. I was larger than him, stronger than him. And my beast and I, we were always one. I always had my beast out partially, always. That, made me stronger.

“How long will you run away from everything, Wilhem? Ruling North America, soon you’ll have the greater parts of the UK too. How long will you keep running from your duty? From your power?”

My grip on the glass I was holding tightened, so much so that I was sure my knuckles were now the fairest shade of white.

“I don’t want Grandfather’s throne! I don’t want the UK’s throne. I’m content with what I have right n—”

“But you’re not!” Alastair butted in, and I stilled. “All these companies, all these hotels, resorts, restaurants . . . what for? I admit, as royals, we need and have a good helping monetary figures in order to manage our kingdom, but working this much? You’re following the path your uncle is taking. Only, he is doing so after his wife died, and you are doing so because you’re downright bonkers. You’re definitely not content.”

Blank-faced, I took another gulp of the bourbon, eyeing the bottle wearily. I definitely need the whole damn bottle tonight.

“It’s not that simple, Alastair.” I sighed, pouring out another glassful when I realized the previous fill was now gone.

“The NDAs have been signed and delivered. It was a good idea, Alexander, making the human rulers sign a nondisclosure agreement. It’s about time they realized we are just a powerful force to tackle with as their weapons are. Peace is better than a war. Say, when are you returning to Dovelore Castle?”

I silently thanked Alastair for changing the subject, sending a brief smile his way. “I’m flying off first thing in the morning. The humans seemed more than happy to have signed the NDAs. As long as we remained in the shadows and did not try to expose ourselves as well . . .”

Alastair scoffed at the last bit of my comment and leaned forward, bracing his hand on his legs. He poured himself another glass. “Fancy. I’ll pay you a visit sometime this year.”

A chuckle rumbled out of my chest. I placed my feet on the coffee table, easing into my coach further. All formal pretence was forgotten.

“The Canadian royals are set to visit soon for the ridiculous discussion that King Boiston is stupidly outraging about, ‘Dangerous Rogues’.”

Alastair immediately cringed, his form tensing with just the thought of the two least liked people in the same discussion.

“I have no intention of attending that nonsense of a gathering, but do let all the royals know how ridiculous I think of the notion. ‘Dangerous Rogues’ is barely a topic to debate about. And as for Derek, well, let us just put it to the point that I have no wish to make any acquaintances with him after last year.”

My eyes flickered to his, and I nodded in understanding.

“It wasn’t your fault. Amber didn’t tell you about being Derek’s mate before you two . . . I’m sure Derek understands.”

The loud crash of breaking glass had sounded around the now silent room. I watched as blood spilled down onto the coffee table with the broken pieces of glass as Alastair finally let the destroyed glass go.

“If mates are capable of the debauchery Amber personally is, I’m rather happy I haven’t found mine. Women are trouble, Alexander. Trouble!”

A minute of silence hung in the room.

“Reckon your mother was too?” I spoke.

Immediately, Alastair was up with his hand around my throat. His startling darker shade of golden eyes glaring back at me showed me that he had lost himself to his wolf completely. I, on the other hand, watched him with a calm expression.

“Exactly the reason why you shouldn’t scorn every woman.”

His eyes blazed with cold fury, his grip on my throat tightening.

I bit back the tense need of ripping his hand off and forced myself to remain calm. Alastair was a good friend, and an even better ally.

I watched patiently as the fury in his eyes died down, and grudgingly he moved back into his seat.

“A lesson very cleverly taught, Alexander.”

I sent a small smile his way as I tipped my still intact glass up. “All in good faith, mate. All in good faith.”

***

“Your tea, sir.”

Hearing the soft but slightly scared voice, I put my “Hotel Expansion” file down and tilted my head up to look at the flight attendant that had a smart-looking tray in her hand.

A sigh left my lips. I removed the file and motioned her to place the tray in front of me.

Human. A deep whisper settled in my mind, and I nodded inwardly at my beast’s assessment.

The girl was indeed human; that explained the fear.

“Thank you”—I looked at her badge, then looked up at her and smiled—“Rosalie.”

She quietly nodded, a noticeable amount of fear slipping out of her features. Her posture eased, and I smiled to myself.

“Is there anything else you would like, sir?”

“No, thank you. You may leave.”

With another nod, Rosalie made an exit.

Looking down at the neatly trimmed and cut pieces of the turkey sandwich, I carefully picked one and brought it to my lips. I bit into it. My mind reflected back to my conversation with Alastair the previous night, about why I worked so much.

This was why I worked so much: the better life—traveling in a private jet, which would help me avoid the company I secretly sought but would run from once I obtained it. I knew.

In luxury. In peace. In ease.

You work to not think about it. You work to not think about her.

Whoever she is. I grimaced at the slow mocking whisper.

Three hours before finally reaching Piedmont.

***

“Master Wilhem,” Earl greeted as I stepped out of the black Audi and then walked towards the entrance of my castle.

There was something so different that I could barely keep myself bound. It felt like the very air was charged.

Immediately, two young men rushed to the trunk of the car while I continued to make my way into the castle.

The luggage would be taken and placed into my bed chamber, even sorted into my closet. It was an untold assurance. I knew.

“What’s new, Earl?”

“Master Romanov has continued to create havoc, this time raiding the kitchens of tomatoes.”

A chuckle left my lips as I thought of the brooding cousin of mine, who was next in line for his own throne. Heaven knew why he had decided to spend the last three years with me instead of his father, my uncle.

“It’s all in the name of art, Earl. Please, continue.”

“Of course, master. Five families have moved to Piedmont in the span of four days, twenty two people. Three of these families are weres.”

I felt myself peak at that information.

“So the house that is visible from my wing is now . . . occupied?”

“It . . . Yes, Your Majesty.”

I nodded briskly.

I had always had a soft spot for that house. Somehow the red-bricked home had always appealed to me, especially during the months of winter.

Beautiful red against the glistening whites of the snow.

“Anything else, Earl?”

“Nothing of great need, Your Majesty.”

I nodded, my palm resting on the banister. “If that is so, which is splendid, I would like to rest now. I have a raging headache.”

Hangover. Serves you right!

“I’ll make Agnus send in some soup for you later on, Your Majesty. Might make you feel better.”

Reluctantly, finally giving in to the bulls now attacking at my head, I gave in and nodded. And without a look to see Earl’s response, I sped up the stairs and towards my wing.

It didn’t take a minute before I reached and entered my room, closing the large door behind me. I walked into my sanctuary. I turned to eye my bed just as a heavy gust of wind swept into the room and hit me flush against my face, the white linen of my shirt thin enough to let the tingles of chill in. My mind, however, wasn’t focused on the fact that I could suddenly feel the chill but on the scent that carried in with the air.

Sweet. Feminine. Decadent.

My vision became sharper, the certain swirls of heat around the room fluttering in front of my gaze, as I sped towards the long balcony.

My eyes fixed on the red house, and I stilled. A girl.

My eyes zeroed in on the girl, and I felt my body stiffen when her eyes met mine. Each and every single hair on the back of my neck stood up in apparent alertness.

Mate, my beast whispered, as if confirming my thoughts. My own mind, however, was in a state of turmoil.

Mate! Mate? Mate! No . . . No . . . What now? What now?

The girl looked back, as if to someone, and my whole body froze.

Before I knew it, I had sped back into my room.

Coward.

***

For the rest of the day, no time was spent resting. It seemed like my pounding headache from the excessive indulgence in bourbon had also receded as soon as I had seen my mate.

Mate.

My mate.

My fingers tingled whenever the word echoed from my lips. I needed to touch her. And for the hundredth time that day, I found myself spying on her—her and the pup, Alex.

My nose flared. I didn’t like the way the pup was staring at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. It was too bad, really. Even though she wasn’t looking, I was. And the pup was going to have hell coming if he made a move.

A small smile made its way to my lips when I saw my mate sit beside the window. I watched—mesmerized—as she moved all of her brown locks to one side and tilted her neck to the same side, a sign of easing sore muscles. She seemed to be talking to Alex, thanking him.

My smile slowly vanished when the pup asked for a kiss, then he began moving closer as if to kiss her. A sharp pain ran through my chest when I didn’t see her moving away.

Fuck! my beast snarled in outrage, and I snarled openly too.

Kill! Fight! Claim!

Everything in the whole world turned red, and I let myself give in to my beast. A loud growl ripped from my chest as I braced myself from the balcony. Immediately, the pup stilled, his eyes on me. I growled, speeding through the corridors before jumping off the balcony in my mad haze.

I fucking needed a run, a very long run.

It seemed like hours had passed before my temper deflated. I couldn’t believe it. She had made no move to look away from Alex. I would have had to watch my mate being kissed.

She made no move . . .

Glancing up from the forest floors, I could see her window. And just as I had been doing for twenty minutes, I debated whether to go in.

My feral side won. I felt the slight itch in my nail beds, telling me that claws had replaced my normal nails.

I quickly reached for the house walls. Every second that the distance shortened, the sweet smell of my mate increased. Strangely, it calmed the anger in me.

I stilled when I reached her window, contemplating whether I should sneak in. I shook my head. I wasn’t exactly behaving like a royal, toying with the idea of sneaking up to my mate’s room.

What if I scared the girl?

I sighed, the scene from earlier replaying in my head. I needed to be close to her. I needed to claim her. That Alex pup needed to be punished.

Suddenly, I made up my mind. I slid the window open and slipped in. I stood just in the shadows, behind the light curtains now flowing in the breeze. The sound of a door clicking open alerted me of her arrival into the room a second later. My whole body caught on fire. Each and every nerve became alert, tingling. Her scent was driving me crazy.

She barely seemed to notice me as she exited the bathroom in her shorts and tank, then hurriedly strode out of the room.

The tingles left with her, and the ache in my chest increased.

I frowned. “Mine.”