Chapter 118 - What’s your name?

HADRIAN

Enticing vanilla, custard and lemongrass rouses me from my sleep and I move closer to the source. My nose connects with soft fabric and I move up until it runs over smooth skin.

“Hadrian, wake up.” Emma shakes my shoulder and I grab her wrist. I pull her towards me until she falls over me. Her weight lands on my chest and I open my eyes to see my mate.

“You’re back.” My voice is raspy from sleep. I fell asleep in her bed when she left for the infirmary. I wanted to stay awake until she came back, but being in her bed and surrounded by her scent lured me to sleep.

I kiss the exposed parts of her neck and jaw. Meanwhile, Emma pushes at my shoulders to get my attention. She already has it, but I direct it in another way.

“Listen—“ Emma says, but I cut her off with a searing kiss. Her lips are soft and her tongue is hot as it dances around mine. She moans and I move her thigh until her heat settles over mine.

“Took you long enough.” I move a hand over her backside and rock her hips back and forth over my aching dick. Sleep did not waver over the overpowering lust.

“Hadrian, wait.”

I turn over and bring her with me. Her back settles on the bed and I settle onto her. “I’ve waited long enough.”

I tear her shirt off and the fabric rips beneath my palms. I don’t have patience for gentle undressing. Her soft tits come into view and I suck at one nipple while I squeeze the other. I suck until the soft peppel becomes hard and Emma arches into me.

*Fuck, I need her.*

I want to be gentle, I want to loosen her up and please her first but I can’t. I’m losing it to the delirious lust that eats away at me. If I don’t have her soon, then I’ll collapse. Or worse, pin her down and take what I need anyway. I can feel the darkness simmering beneath the surface. It pokes and pries to find a way out.

With the last ounce of patience left, I remove her jeans without ripping them apart. Emma is trying to get my attention, but the scent of her pussy demands it more. I move her hands away and spread her legs.

“Hadrian…” She is still wet and I lap at her arousal. I press my tongue over every point that makes Emma squirm. My pelvis drives into the mattress, searching for its own release. *Damnit.* I need her, *now.*

I climb over her body and grab both her wrists when they push at my chest. I pull them over her head and align my straining dick against her warm and tight entrance. I run my swollen head through her slick and press against her tight opening.

“Graciella is here.” Emma chokes out through the delirious haze clouding her eyes.

*What?*

I try to ignore what she’s saying. There’s stress in her body and I can make it better for both of us. But her wide blue eyes stop me. The urgency in them triggers my need to protect her and overrules my arousal. I release her wrists and let my head fall to her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“She’s here, she’s the girl.”

I move away from Emma and fall back on the bed. I squeeze the base of my cock to stop the flow and burning urge. My throat turns dry and it scratches with a prominent itch.

*Graciella is here?* We searched for her throughout the kingdom, without result. Months passed and I honestly started to lose hope that we were ever going to find her. And now she showed up here? When Emma left, my search for her took over. Even though I never forgot the promise I made.

“Are you sure that it’s her?” I ask and clear my throat.

“Positive.” Emma sits up on the bed and her body seduces me with her toned curves and hard nipples. The skin of her breasts and chest is flushed and it travels up to her cheeks. Her hair is quick to turn messy and she fails to recover her hooded eyes.

I clear my throat again and sit on the edge of the bed. I turn my back to Emma to give myself a chance of a clear mind. The itch intensifies and I cough.

“Are you okay?” Emma places a hand on my shoulder blade and her touch seeps into my lungs. It soothes the itch in my throat, but it also provokes the heat in my core.

“It’s nothing.” I shrug away her hand and get up from the bed to put my clothes back on.

Emma gets a new sweater from her dresser. A burn surges through my esophagus and I cough loudly. *What’s happening?*

Concern emanates from her and she comes closer. Her hands reach for me and I step back. I know they’ll make me feel better, but afterward, the loss is so much more painful.

I walk past her to the door and Emma follows me downstairs. At the dining table sits a girl. Her face is sunken in and her eyes are too big for her face. Her skin is pale white and lacks a healthy glow. Her auburn hair is brittle and dull.

Her eyes widen when she sees me and recognition takes over. She quickly rises from her seat and drops to a low bow. “Your Highness.”

“Rise.” The command is there in my voice, but far weaker than normal. I sit down and suppress the burning pain in my chest. It starts to move higher and creates an ache in my head. *What is this?*

There is also this blockage in my nose that makes it harder to breathe. Scents seem to have dulled significantly in the span of mere minutes. I try to breathe through my nose and there is a slight wheeze to it. *That’s new.*

“What’s your name?”

She sits back at the table. “Graciella, Your Highness.”

She definitely looks like the girl in the picture although she has lost a significant amount of weight.

“Who’s your father?”

There’s confusion at my question, but she answers with hesitation. “Alpha Amadeus, sir.”

This is her. I don’t sense any grief so she must not know yet. I turn my gaze to Emma and I wonder how much they have talked about. Emma shakes her head as if she knows what I’m thinking.

“What were you doing in the forest?”

A deep frown pulls at her brows. “I don't remember.”

“What do you remember?” My patience is thin and it has little to do with the girl being here.

“I— I, darkness.” Her features contort as she rakes her brain.

Emma places a hand on her shoulder “Stop, you need to get stronger first.” Her voice is soothing and her smile reassuring. “I’ll get you some soup.”

The girl nods and her pale white skin is devoid of life. She looks like she’s about to faint.

“Why is she here, shouldn’t she be in the infirmary?”

“She’s malnourished, not injured.” Emma snaps and grimaces. “She needs nutrients and rest.” I wonder if she has had this argument before.

The eyes of Graciella widen when I receive reproach from Emma. Talking to a royal this way is treacherous and that’s why it thrills me. Emma is unafraid to tell me what she thinks.

“You need food too.” She says with an accusing finger in my direction and one hand placed on her hip.

The trill turns into a smile and I grab her hand and tug her towards me. “Anything you say, my mate.”

Her deeply caring nature is usually directed at someone else and it causes a good amount of irrational jealousy. To have her tend to me is always exhilarating.

“My Goddess,” Graciella says with a loud gasp. Her hand trembles over her mouth and fear shakes her irises. “My deepest apologies Princess Emma, I didn’t know—“

“Stop, please just call me Emma.”

The moment Emma stands up and moves away brings the fire in my throat back and forces me into a coughing fit.

Emma turns back to me and runs a hand over my forehead. Her cool hand is soothing and I lean into her.

“I think you have the flu.”

I scoff. “Werewolves don’t get the flu.