The Lycan Prince Maid

Caleb POV

My mother strong-armed me to this soirée of hers; she spends the huge palace resources just to create a fantasy meeting of me meeting an aristocratic lady of choice.

I got tired of coming since it was always the same set of people with the Lycan males' usual groveling and the females' their simpering nonsense.

By the time my mother entered the hall, I caught a scent that was unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. I kept wondering if the chefs had come up with something good today; at least that would help with the coming boredom.

Before I could get to my seat, I was stopped by Minister Lakewood, who manages our external trade with humans.

"My dear prince, I have been meaning to see you," he said while bowing expansively. "Really? Is anything the matter?" I asked.

"No, no, it's nothing. My daughter comes of age next week, and I was hoping I could invite you as a chief guest to represent the royal family. I hope you can do me the honor."

'How displeasing,' was my first thought. I wouldn't mind attending his event if it were reasonable, but it was obvious he wanted to use me to boost his status while furthering a matchmaking effort.

"Such a nuisance!" My wolf bristled in anger. Not bothering to give him the pleasure of an answer, I turned away angrily.

He spoiled my already sour mood, hoping the food the chef made could work magic on my dampened mood. I followed the scent; it was warm, filled with the smell of olives after rain and a hint of ambergris.

But my nose led me to a girl?

A human?

Or not?

Shouldn't humans smell thin and fragile, or is she just wolfless? We do have them around the kingdom.

My wolf stirs. I could feel Trey lift his head in interest; that alone made my spine stiffen in concentration.

How could a human smell so good?

I let my gaze track her the way I would a potential threat; she's holding a tray. Her hands were steady, though her pulse beat too fast at her throat. She had looked up at me, stunned, but now her eyes were lowered, and her posture was submissive.

She was walking towards me slowly but with measure, like someone who knows how to slink around quietly.

Trey exhales, making a low sound in my chest. "That's her, Caleb."

No.

I shut the thought down immediately.

But still my world had tilted the moment her dark eyes had met mine. For one breathless instant, something aligned with me; a pressure I was not aware of snapped tight behind my eyes, as if a door I didn't know existed open a fraction.

When I got close to her, I stopped walking, blocking her path of escape.

Around us, the conversation stops; the Lycans could feel the shift in the air.

I know I shouldn't speak to her, but I didn't care.

"You."

Her shoulders tensed, but she didn't run or beg.

Interesting, she doesn't scare easily like other humans. Her head still lowered, she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Y-Your Highness?"

Her accent is... wrong; she didn't sound from around here. I wondered which pack she came from. This is the first time my wolf and I were curious about a girl.

I step closer; the scent of her is inviting; she truly smells heavenly.

"You're new," I say.

"I-I work in the kitchens, Your Highness." She answered.

My wolf presses forward, curious now, sniffing beneath the surface.

"Human skin, human blood, but still unusual. She is something more," Trey said.

Stating his input without my request.

My gaze drops to her wrists, and I see faint marks of old bindings that have recently healed. I felt raw anger go through me again; it was purely unwelcome. But I could not help but wonder -

Who touched her?

The thought hits deep in my mind.

Trey growls, low and displeased.

I take another step closer, invading her space deliberately. She sways but holds her ground. Foolish girl, I thought.

"Look at me."

She hesitates.

Good, show a bit of fear girl, but she obeyed, surprising me.

Her eyes lifted and met my gaze, and I felt it again, that sharp, breath-stealing click in my chest; it felt like puzzle pieces being put in place and then stopping just short.

Her gaze isn't worshipful or greedy as I have seen from other females; it's searching, as if she were also assessing me, to see if I fit her standards.

That is unacceptable, I thought. Before I could say anything else, my mother's voice cut through the moment.

"Caleb."

I don't look away from the girl immediately. I forced myself to breathe, to push Trey back into his cage.

Chanting to myself, she is nothing, just a human, she is beneath notice.

"She looked at me," I say flatly to my mother.

Mother's tone is dismissive, but I could see a quick shift in her sharp eyes that always misses nothing. "She's human. Humans make mistakes."

I finally step back.

The tension drops, but the echo remains, clinging to my skin as I walk away, but I don't turn around.

I don't need to; I have spiced the occasion enough with fresh gossip.

The rest of the soirée passes in fragments. The nobles talk, the courageous ones like Minister Lakewood approach, trying to form alliances. My mother smiles and maneuvers, her political instincts as sharp as ever. I nod when required and speak when expected of me.

I could not wait for it to end, and the food was passable. I had raised my expectations too high after the scent from the maid.

Still, my attention kept drifting. Trey was restless. "We need to see that girl again," he kept saying. "She's human," I told him silently. "Let it go."

"Then why does she smell like olives after rain? We love olives," he counters.

I don't answer.

Later, when the hall begins to empty, I retreat to the eastern balcony. The cool night air washes over me, grounding. The palace grounds stretch below the lit paths, patrolled by guards.

My mind could not rest because one human girl had disrupted my equilibrium more than any enemy rogue ever had.

I close my eyes, but her scent lingers in my mind.