Captive

11 // Infamous

The rest of the date went as smoothly as it could have. We ate, mostly in silence, and we walked back to our separate rooms in the house. My knees were shaking. 

"I'm not a fool, Cyan," he muttered when he stopped right outside my door. "I know what you still think of me, no matter how much of a facade you may have put on this evening." 

"It's not like you're giving me time to adjust," I gritted. 

"We return to the Palace tomorrow morning," he said, ignoring my comment. He always ignored my comments. 

I proceeded through the door, falling into a heap of defeat on my mattress. 

_____

The ride home was a tense disaster, as most of the car rides between myself and Damien were. He would put his hand on my knee, I would push it way, he would sigh, and the process would repeat. 

As we rolled up to the Palace, however, Damien put his hands on me in a completely different way. There was a limousine perched by the curb in front of us, and he put his arm across my chest like a mother would over her child. He glared out the window, a low growl emitting from his chest. I looked worriedly from him to the limousine in front of us, and gathered up the courage to ask him,

"What's wrong, Damien?" 

He snapped out of it, looking at me with frantic worry. My eyes landed back on the white limousine as the door was opened by the driver, and out of it emerged one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. He was clean cut, and I got the sense that he was a little older than Damien, but not by much. He was dressed in a well fitted suit, and had the same cocky aura as Damien, and from the way Damien was looking at him, they were most definitely acquainted. 

The man turned and looked directly in our window, as if he could see right through the tinted glass. 

"Damien, who is that," I murmured softly, afraid he could hear us too. The man gave a soft knock on the window, and the driver rolled it down. He perched his elbows on the car door. 

"I'm his brother, love. King of the Rogues." 

The Rogues were the only thing more terrifying than Damien. To me, to werewolves, to anyone. They kept their distance, for the most part, but they still clashed. They still ambushed Council Members on their flights and rides between cities. They were ruthless, and ruleless. Besides their King of course. The King of Rogues wasn't an Alpha, but he was royalty. 

____

I slammed the door to my room behind me, Damien in tow. 

"How did you think not to tell me about him?" I said. 

"He's disowned, Cyan. As far as I'm concerned, he's not a part of my family anymore. I had no indication he was coming." 

"I've heard all the rumors," I muttered, my eyes downcast. 

"My brother was next in line for the throne, you know, not me," he replied. My eyes shot up at his in shock. "He got a little too drunk and ended up marking another girl. Marking more than one girl and having more than one mate is illegal by the sacred law of the Moon Goddess. He was disowned and thrown into the countryside," he finished.

"Does he still have two mates?" 

"Of course not," he scoffed, pacing the room. "The Moon Goddess punished him for it, he's mateless now. He's reckless, and cruel, and now he knows I have you." 

"I got out of a car with you, that doesn't mean--" 

"That mark is on your neck for the world to see, Cy," he growled, stopping in his tracks as he turned to me. He whipped out his phone and dialed a number, and within seconds Beta Lyon was at my bedroom door.