Sneaky bunny?!
Panic overtook Mirabelle. She turned and bolted, her legs carrying her as fast as they could.
The night air whipped past her face, and her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. She didn't dare look back.
Run. Just run.
She was good at being sneaky—she had to be, living the life she did. But this wasn't sneaking; this was desperation.
And behind her, she felt him. His presence was like a shadow, relentless and impossible to escape.
Her breaths came in sharp gasps as she darted through the trees at the back of the house, her mind racing.
Why is he following me? He shouldn't care—I'm nobody!
But the alpha prince wasn't letting her go.
She could hear his footsteps, deliberate and unhurried, as if he enjoyed the chase. Worse still, she heard his voice, low and mocking.
"Running, little bunny?" he drawled, his tone carrying an infuriating smirk. "Do you think you can hide from me?"
His words sent a shiver down her spine, but she kept running, weaving between trees, her messy bun unraveling with every desperate movement.
Mirabelle knew how to hide—she'd been doing it all her life—but this was different.
She wasn't just hiding from her aunt or cousin now. She was trying to escape a predator.
She veered left, scrambling up a small incline and sliding down the other side. The forest was dense here, and for a moment, she thought she might lose him.
She crouched behind a fallen log, her breaths shallow and her body trembling.
But then she heard it—a soft chuckle, impossibly close.
"Do you think I can't find you?"
Her stomach sank. How could she forget? He was a werewolf. He can sniff her out!
No matter how sneaky she was, she couldn't hide from his heightened senses.
Before she could think of a new plan, he was there.
In one swift motion, he caught her.
She gasped as her back hit the rough bark of a tree. His hands pinned her in place, one on each side of her head, blocking any chance of escape. She looked up, and the breath left her lungs entirely.
There he was, towering over her like a shadow that blotted out the moonlight. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dark, their intensity making her blood run cold.
"Hi," he said casually, as if they hadn't just been engaged in a wild chase through the forest. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "I'm Caspian."
The name hit her like a bolt of lightning.
Caspian. The alpha prince. The very man who was supposed to be inside the house, picking Sally—or anyone else, really—as his bride.
Her throat went dry.
How? How had she drawn his attention?
Caspian's gaze roamed over her, curious and sharp, and she felt as though he could see right through her.
She tried to speak, to come up with some excuse, but no words came. Her body was frozen, her mind racing in circles but she was beautiful.
"Well," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft, "you're not exactly the warm welcome I was expecting. But you are interesting."
Mirabelle's lips parted in disbelief, but she couldn't form a single word.
This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.
"Please," Mirabelle finally managed to whisper, her voice trembling. "Please let me go. If my family finds out I'm out here, they'll be furious."
Her wide blue eyes pleaded with him, but the alpha prince didn't budge. His expression darkened, his brows furrowing.
"Your family?" Caspian repeated, his voice low and cold. "So, they're the reason you're out here sneaking around? Hiding from me?"
Mirabelle stiffened, realizing her words might've struck a nerve. She quickly shook her head. "It's not like that," she said hurriedly. "I—I just… You should go back inside. My cousin… Sally is waiting for you. She's the one you're supposed to see."
At the mention of Sally, his frown deepened. Caspian straightened, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Mirabelle's trembling form.
"Supposed to see her?" he echoed, his tone carrying a dangerous edge. "And what about you? Why would they want to keep you out of sight?"
Mirabelle swallowed hard, her back pressing further into the tree as if she could disappear into it. She didn't answer, her gaze darting away.
That only made his curiosity grow. His sharp senses had been tugging at him all evening, but when he stepped out for a smoke to clear his mind, he hadn't expected this—a runaway girl who carried the scent he'd been drawn to since he arrived.
Caspian tilted his head slightly, studying her like a predator sizing up his prey. "You're the scent," he said, almost to himself, as if confirming a suspicion.
Mirabelle's breath hitched. "I don't know what you mean," she muttered, but her voice lacked conviction.
"You've been hiding from me," he continued, ignoring her denial. "Sneaking around. Why?"
"I—" Mirabelle stopped herself.
What could she say? That she'd been told to stay out of sight so Sally could have her chance? That her family treated her as if she were invisible, a burden?
Caspian sighed, shaking his head as though he were piecing together a puzzle that annoyed him. "So, they thought they could play me," he muttered under his breath. "Push me toward someone of their choosing while hiding you away. Interesting strategy."
He didn't like that. Not one bit.
His eyes returned to her, sharp and unrelenting. "What's your name?"
Mirabelle bit her lip, hesitating. She didn't want to give him anything that might prolong this interaction.
She was too scared, too tired, and too hungry to deal with a werewolf prince interrogating her.
When she didn't answer, Caspian stepped closer, his towering frame making her feel even smaller. "I asked you a question," he said, his voice calm but laced with authority.
Mirabelle's anger flickered despite her fear.
Why wouldn't he just leave her alone? She was hungry, exhausted, and in no mood to play games.
She lifted her chin slightly, though her voice was still shaky when she spoke. "Why does it matter? I'm no one. I'm not the one you're here for."
Caspian's gaze sharpened, and for a moment, he didn't respond. Then, his lips curled into a slow, almost amused smile.
"You're no one?" he repeated, his tone almost mocking. "You're the one who just tried to escape me, sneaky little bunny. You've got fire, though. I like that."
Mirabelle scowled, her exhaustion and hunger fraying her nerves. "I'm tired. I'm hungry. And I really don't want to be here right now," she snapped before she could stop herself.
Caspian's smile widened slightly, but his eyes remained intense. "Hungry and tired, huh? And still feisty," he said, almost as if he were impressed.
Mirabelle huffed, regretting her outburst. What have I gotten myself into?