FATED ROYAL HEAT

ALEXIA

The air in the cabin was cold and thin, tasting of stale air and blood. I sat rigidly in the plush leather chair, my hands clenched in my lap, staring at the dark stain spreading across Jackson's shoulder. He'd ripped his shirt open to assess the damage, and the sight of his blood, of his vulnerability, did strange things to my resolve. He was a prince, a king in waiting, and he was bleeding right in front me.

He caught me staring. "If you're going to gawk, you might as well make yourself useful," he grunted, his voice tight with pain. "There's a first-aid kit in the compartment above you. Get it."

"I'm not your nurse."

"No, you're my mate. Which means you have a duty to see to my wounds. Now get the kit."

His words were a slap in the face, a reminder of the bond I was desperately trying to ignore. But I couldn't let him bleed to death. With a sigh, I stood up and retrieved the kit, my movements stiff and awkward.

I knelt in front of him, my hands trembling as I opened the kit. "This is going to hurt," I warned him.

"I've had worse," he said, his eyes dark and intense.

I cleaned the wound as gently as I could, my fingers brushing against his skin. He flinched, his muscles tensing, but he didn't make a sound. I could feel the heat radiating from him, the raw power that even an injury couldn't dim.

"You're shaking," he whispered, his voice low and rough.

"I'm not," I lied, my voice barely audible.

"You are. You're afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you, I'm an elder to you. I'm afraid of what you represent."

"Why don't you turn around and let me fuck you? Then we'd see just how much of an elder you are to me. And what exactly do I represent?"

"Control."

He smiled, a slow, predatory curve of his lips. "You have no idea."

He reached out and grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron. He pulled me closer, until I was straddling his lap, my hands braced against his chest. I could feel his heart beating against my palm, a steady, reassuring rhythm that only made my own heart race faster.

"Jackson," I breathed, my voice trembling.

"Shh," he murmured, his other hand tangling in my hair. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He leaned in and brushed his lips against my neck, his mouth hot and demanding. I gasped, my body arching against him, a wave of pleasure washing over me. He bit down gently, his teeth scraping against my skin, and I moaned, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

"You're ours, Alexia," he whispered, his voice a low growl. "All ours."

He released my neck, but the loss of his touch was immediate and sharp. He looked at me, his eyes dark with desire. "You're wet for me, aren't you?"

I couldn't answer, my throat tight with emotion.

He chuckled, a low, triumphant sound. "I can smell your arousal, Alexia. It's driving me insane."

He shifted, his hips pressing against mine, and I felt his hardness through his jeans. I gasped, my eyes flying open. He was enjoying this. He was enjoying my fear and my arousal.

"Don't," I pleaded, my voice a mere whisper.

"Don't what?" he asked, his lips brushing against my ear. "Don't make you want me? Too late for that, Alexia. You've always wanted me."

He claimed my mouth in a rough, demanding kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth, tasting, exploring. I responded instinctively, my body moving against his, my hands tangling in his hair. I was lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, my mind a blank slate.

He pulled away, his breathing ragged. "We're almost there," he said, his voice hoarse. "And when we land, I'm going to make you mine."

He stood up, leaving me trembling on the seat. I watched him walk away, my body on fire, my mind a mess of conflicting emotions. I was their mate. And I had no idea how I was going to survive this.

I looked down at my hands, then at the blood on my fingers. I was a human, a fragile, breakable thing in a world of powerful, dangerous men since my wolf had never appeared. And I was in way over my head. I closed my eyes and tried to reverse the rejection. I don't belong to them. I am Alexia. I am alone. But as I concentrated, I felt a phantom sensation of lips against my neck, hands gripping my waist, and a deep, possessive growl. The fleeting sensation intensified, and I felt a wave of pleasure wash over me. I couldn't stop the moan that escaped my lips.

The curtain to the plane parted, and Jackson walked back in. He looked at me, his eyes dark with desire. "Did you like that?" he asked, his voice a low purr.

I didn't answer, my face burning with shame and desire.

He smiled, a slow, predatory curve of his lips. "You did. And you'll like what comes next even more." He walked towards me, his intentions clear. I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. I was trapped, and there was no escape.

I scoffed and faced the window as I got lost in thought of the past. Hailey had been my godmother, best friend to my mother but she'd sent me away just as she sent her sons away. I dozed off after a while when suddenly I felt a wave of intense pleasure as I felt an organism coming up as my eyes flew open to Jackson on his knees with his mouth on my clit as several colours burst before my eyes as I screamed in pleasure as I finally got off my high and exhaled as he removed his head and adjusted my clothing before he licked his mouth clean then buckled my seat belt and stood. He smirked and returned to his seat. "We're about to land. We're home already."