Page 53 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
The cat has grabbed the meat and is now chewing on it happily.
I glower at it. It’s bad enough that I’ve reduced myself to such a domestic task as cooking. Now, some lowly creature on the food chain is stealing from me?
My wolf snarls in warning, determined to put the little feline in her place, when Astra swoops the cat up, hugging it against her chest and glaring at me. “What’s the matter with you?!”
A wave of inexplicable anger flows through me at the protective gesture. “She stole our breakfast!”
“She didn’t mean it!” Astra argues back. “And she has to eat, too!”
The cat gives me a smug look, all the while making helpless mewling sounds in her owner’s arms.
I snarl at Luna, and her ears go flat as she hisses in response.
“Stop it!”
It’s only when I smell Astra’s scent tainted with distress that I force myself to step back. “I’ll go hunt something else.”
Without waiting for a response, I stalk into the trees, angry with myself over my reaction. Since when do I let a woman’s feelings affect my decisions? Why do I behave so irrationally around her?
After killing two rabbits a bit more aggressively than I normally would, I bring them back to the campsite, where Astra is on her feet, waiting for me. She’s holding something large and pink in her hands.
“What is that?” I demand.
“It’s a fruit native to this forest.” She gives me a bright smile as if she wasn’t upset half an hour ago.
“Where did you get it?”
“From the trees.”
“You left the campsite?” I narrow my eyes at her.
Now she looks apologetic. “I felt bad that you had to hunt for food again. I was going to give Luna some of my breakfast. I didn’t realize how hungry she was. I shouldn’t have sniped at you. You’ve been taking care of both of us.”
I stare at her, her words piercing me. Taking care of them? Is that what I’ve been doing?
As Astra looks at me uncertainly, I feel a strange warmth move within me. She doesn’t know who I really am, which means every interaction between us is sincere from her end. Her smiles, the way she argues with me, the way she tries to get me to forgive her—these are all genuine gestures toward the mercenary she believes me to be.
But would she look at me the same way if Prince Lucian were standing before her? Would she press her palm against mine with the same wonder in her eyes? Would she bicker with me the same way?
It bothers me that I don’t know.
I’ve never once shied away from my title or my responsibilities. And I have had plenty of them. They’re all I’ve ever known. I’ve always been the crown prince, never just Lucian, not even to my father. Even my friends, the people who have stood by my side through all these years, hold themselves back because of my title.
This is the first time I’ve ever met someone and not been weighed down by who I am. To Astra, I’m just Lucian. The Lucian who hunts for her. The Lucian who protects her.
“L–Lucian?” Astra’s voice forces me out of my own thoughts. She looks wary. “If you don’t want any—”
“No, I do want it,” I say quickly, and as I watch the hurt in her eyes transform to happiness and relief, I feel an odd fluttering in my chest.
She takes out a knife and cuts the fruit. “It’s really sweet. I mean, it’s not to everybody’s taste, but I really like it.” She holds out a slice, and I lower my head and take a bite out of it. Her eyes turn as wide as saucers. “I—I was going to give that to you.”
I ignore her words, chewing slowly before saying decidedly, “I like it.”
“You do?” The broad smile forming on her lips makes me feel light-headed. “I’ll cut some more for you.” As she sits down on the ground, she looks up at me. “You’re not mad at us anymore, are you?”
Us. She and her cat. They’re a package deal.
I drop down beside her and reach out to wrap a strand of her hair around my finger. “No.”
