Chapter 109: _ The Jealous Tiger Prince

I opened my mouth, desperate to find some semblance of an excuse, when a sudden wave of dizziness crashed over me. My vision blurred at the edges and the luxurious red curtains spun sickeningly fast.

Before I could pitch sideways, the doors of the chamber swung open.

Ivar walked in, carrying a silver tray laden with steaming bread, roasted meat, and a crystal pitcher of water. He looked entirely radiant with a wide, beam-bright grin plastered across his face that I had never seen on the notoriously arrogant Wolf Prince before.

"Morning, my sweet petal," Ivar purred, walking right past Zev as if the Tiger Prince were nothing more than an inconvenient piece of furniture. Ivar sat down on the edge of the mattress, leaned over, and pressed a tender kiss straight to my forehead.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Zev’s hand tighten around the silver dagger so hard his knuckles turned bone-white. The look he shot Ivar could have melted stone.

As Ivar pulled back, setting the tray aside, our eyes met. Instantly, another dizzying spike of lightheadedness hit me, making my breath hitch.

"What... what happened?" I whispered, pressing a hand to my throbbing forehead. "Why do I feel like my head is splitting open?"

Ivar offered an apologetic smile, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from my cheek. "You passed out, petal. Right after the mark settled. The magic of a royal wolf-bond is heavy when it first takes root; your human system just needed a moment to catch up."

"I... I passed out? Really? Why?" I blinked, trying to process the timeline.

Before Ivar could answer, a cynical laugh erupted from the room.

I turned my head to look at Zev. The Tiger Prince was slowly standing up from his chair with a satisfied smirk stretching across his face as he seemed to relish every single syllable he was about to drop.

"Oh, she didn’t pass out from the bond, Wulfram. She passed out because her delicate little wolfless body couldn’t handle the fact that she just whored herself out in public to a common thief... one who has stolen what little mana she has in her... if at all, there’s any."

"What does he mean by that?" I whispered as I looked up at Ivar. "What did he mean about a thief?"

Before Ivar could form a reply, he straightened to his full height, his broad shoulders tensing as he looked over at the Tiger Prince.

"I’m sorry," the Wolf Prince pressed his lips together in remorse. .

Zev let out a mocking bark of laughter, tossing the silver dagger from one hand to the other with dizzying speed. "Since when does the great Wulfram start apologizing to his victims?"

"Victims?!" I gasped, my head throbbing fiercely as I tried to sit up higher against the pillows. "What is he talking about, Ivar? What victims?!"

"Elira is not my victim! Shut your damn mouth, Zev." Ivar snapped back, his heterochromatic eyes flashing a warning as he turned toward Zev.

"Oh, make me," Zev challenged, eyes glittering as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you ashamed to tell your sweet little petal that you fed off her mana during your grand theater like a parasite? Go ahead, Wolf. Tell her how your little magic trick works."

"What the hell, Zevaranthius? Just bloody go back to your Academy and leave me to my affairs!"

"If you think No-One is your affair, then you must be delusional, you gluttonous, mana-stealing little prick!"

Fed off my mana? How? What... what...

"ENOUGH!" I screamed. The sound tore from my throat as I threw my hands over my ears to block out the escalating noise.

The room went dead silent. Both princes froze, blinking at me as if they had forgotten I was even occupying the bed between them.

I dropped my hands, my chest heaving. My eyes darted from Zev’s mocking smirk to Ivar’s tight, guilty jawline.

"Tell me. What is he talking about?" I demanded.

Ivar exhaled a slow breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as he sat back down on the edge of the mattress. He reached out to take my hand, but I flinched away, recoiling against the pillows as cold realization began to pool in my stomach.

"My... my power," Ivar started, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "It’s not like the colorful abilities others get, Elira. When I touch someone... I-I mean, when I grow close to them, when I take them as I took you... my magic inherently acquires a fraction of their abilities. Their mana. Their energy."

The air left my lungs in a single rush.

I stared at him, horror crawling up my spine. Every memory of him touching me, of his mark on my neck, of the mysterious pull between us came rushing back with a sickening clarity.

"You..." I choked out as tears of betrayal stung the corners of my eyes. "That’s why you approached me. That’s why you came to me. You wanted to steal my power."

"No!" Ivar protested quickly, his hands coming up in a defensive gesture. "Elira, no, listen to me—that wasn’t why I started following you. When I first smelled you, I didn’t know what you were. I thought you were just a dragonless commoner. My power acts on instinct; it takes a portion of whatever mana is present in a person’s core during intercourse."

"And I don’t have mana! I’m markless! I’m a trench rat with nothing! You couldn’t possibly have taken anything from me, so why do I feel like my insides are hollowed out?!" I yelled, my voice breaking as the humiliating truth spilled out.

Ivar tried to reach for me again, ignoring my protests as he caught my trembling hand in his warm grip. "Calm down, petal. Please. Just listen."

"Don’t call me that!" I hissed, trying to wrench my hand away.

"I didn’t take precautions because I thought you were entirely human—empty of shifter mana—my natural defense filters were down. I didn’t think there was anything inside you for my wolf to latch onto. I thought you were safe to touch."

"Then what the hell is in her?! If she’s supposed to be a dragonless girl from Stonewick, why did your mana drain something from her?" Zev cut in, his voice sharp as he leaned forward in his chair in curiosity.

Ivar shot Zev a lethal glare before looking back at me. "I don’t know."

Zev let out a cynical laugh, shaking his head. "Well, what do you know? It serves her right. That’s what she gets for spreading her legs for a punk who treats her like a feeding trough."

What the hell?

What gave Zev the right to talk down to me, act as if he knows me, act–

A blinding fury surged through my veins, washing away the dizziness and the fear in a single second. I whipped my head toward him. "Do you have a personal problem with me, Your Highness? Because if you’re just here to stand around and insult me, you can crawl right back out the door you came through!"

Zev let out a dark chuckle. He leaned back in his chair and let his gaze sweep over me. "Oh, Stonewick... you really don’t want to know what my problem with you is."

Before Zev could say another word, Ivar stood up, stepping directly in front of me to block Zev from my view. The protective, alpha snarl in Ivar’s throat vibrated across the room. "Back off, Zev. I mean it."

Despite Ivar standing between us, I could almost feel Zev’s heavy disappointment radiating off him. He looked at me not just with anger, but with a punishing keenness—as if he couldn’t wait to make me pay for a crime I didn’t even understand.

Panic and confusion tangled together in my chest. Was Zev being mean to me because he knew what Ivar and I had done? How on earth would he even know... so quickly at that?

I looked up at the broad back of the man who had just marked me and whispered. "Ivar... just how much did you tell him?"

Ivar didn’t turn around, but his jaw clenched tighter. "Just the basics. That you’re my mate. That I’ve claimed and marked you."

From behind Ivar’s shoulder, Zev’s voice rang out, dripping with sarcasm. "Which is all the more surprising. It really makes a man wonder... especially considering our plans for her."

My breath hitched. Plans?

"What plan?" I demanded, trying to peer around Ivar.

Ivar spun around, eyes blazing as he pointed a threatening finger straight at the Tiger Prince. "Shut up, Zev! Just get the hell out of my quarters and let me enjoy my time with my mate!"

Zev slowly rose from his chair, adjusting the cuffs of his silk tunic calmly. He met my eyes over Ivar’s shoulder and I saw the angry flare in them.

"Enjoy it while you can, Wulfram," Zev murmured, turning his back and walking slowly toward the doors. He paused with his hand on the iron latch, throwing one last chilling look over his shoulder.

"Because as long as I’m alive, neither of you is going to enjoy your mate bond."