Chapter 922

Mark cries out, just slightly, as his wolf howls and scratches and begs him to go forward, to grab the door, to push it open, to find her, to grab her into his arms -

Mate mate mate mate mate - he snarls again and again, over and over in Mark's mind.

And Mark groans, because he knows - he knows his wolf does this, that he lets his impulses take control, and that he - Mark - knows better. Knows that this poor girl she's just afraid. But -

God, who is she?

Who whose baby is she carrying!?

Should be our baby, his wolf snarls, angry now. Go kill him, whoever took her, whoever took our Luna, it will be our baby - we will kill him, and then she will be

ours -

Mark groans, putting his head in his hands, digging his fingers into his hair.

And then he does the only thing that he can think of the only thing that works when his wolf takes over like this, and he shifts.

Shifts into his wolf and then runs, runs as far and as fast as he can, letting the exercise wear his wolf down.

Mark runs through the mostly silent halls of the palace, mentally begging his mother's forgiveness as he disobeys her and dashes through the doors, past the guards who shout after him, out into the parkland beyond.

And the entire time - with every footfall - his mind turns over the same word.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Because there's only so far and so fast that Mark can run before his life catches up to him. And right now, he has no idea how the hell he's going to face it.

"All right, big boy," Jesse says, laughing and giving Rafe a shove into his room. "You go sleep this off. We'll figure it out tomorrow."

Jackson and Ariel call their little goodnights as they continue down the hall, Jackson carrying the exhausted Ariel in his arms, her head on his shoulder. Jesse gives them a passive wave, his eyes still on the probably-too-drunk crown prince.

"Whattam I gonna do, Jess," Rafe murmurs, turning and slumping in the door frame, not yet ready to turn towards his bed.

"We spent all night talking about that, cuz," Jesse says, grinning at Rafe and giving him a friendly pat on the cheek. Indeed, the five of them had spent hours going over possibilities, coming up with a plan for how Rafe can talk Maryam down and get to know her more. "You'll remember tomorrow. Just...go lay down. You need to rest.”

"Can't rest," Rafe sighs, petulant, his head dropping dramatically to the side. "She's upset. I can't rest when she's upset. I should go...find her."

"You are...not precisely the most eligible suitor right now," Jesse laughs. "Trust me, you don't want her to see you like this."

Rafe snarls, lifting his head up to glare. "Ima prince," he mutters. "And I'm...cute. I'm eligab...eligible. Plenty eligible."

Jesse bursts out laughing and gives Rafe a shove. "You're a mess, not a prince. Go!"noveldrama

Rafe finally takes the advice and stands, turning towards the bed. "You sleeping over?" he mutters, gesturing towards the other bed in the room, the one Jesse has slept in thousands of nights.

"Nah," Jesse says, slipping his hands into his pockets, glancing at the clock on the wall. Shit, when did it get that late? "Got something to do."

Rafe gives Jesse a look like he's crazy even as he flops into his bed. "You don't have anything to do. Go to bed."

"Oh, don't I wish that were true,"

Jesse sighs. But then he blows his cousin a kiss, making him laugh, and pulls the door shut behind him. Then, heaving another sigh, he turns on his heel and strides out of the family apartments, through the halls, up the stairs, and out onto the roof.

The pilot standing by the helicopter shakes his head at Jesse, giving him a sour

look. "You're late. Two hours late."

"Sorry," Jesse says, nodding to the pilot, genuinely meaning it. "Things...got complicated downstairs."

The pilot smirks at him, shaking his

head, aware of the Sinclair

want

family's penchant for drama that he's fairly unphased by this. "You still want to go? It will be late in the morning by the time you get back if you still want to do a round trip."

"Yeah, let's go,” Jesse says with a sigh, his wolf singing in his soul in desperation

to get going.

The pilot nods and starts to climb into the tiny two-man helicopter, gesturing with this thumb for Jesse to take the co-pilot seat.

"All right," the pilot says, putting on his headphones and pressing the buttons that start the chopper's blades spinning. "One round-trip ticket to Alpha Academy, coming right up."