Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 61

**Chapter 61**

The night enveloped me in a restless embrace, and I found myself unable to remain still in my bed. My thoughts spiraled around the encounter with Maximus, replaying every detail like a film on a loop. How had things escalated so quickly? How had I allowed myself to lower my defenses in such a way? The sensation was new, an awakening of desire that blossomed deep within me, igniting a fire I had never felt before.

And those hands—oh, those hands.

They roamed my body with a gentle urgency, as if he were trying to memorize every contour, every curve. I could still feel the heat of his touch lingering on my rib cage, the rough pads of his fingers tracing a path from under my chest, up my sternum, and toward places that made me ache with longing.

A soft groan escaped my lips as I turned over in bed, desperately trying to find a comfortable position. Sleep was slowly creeping in, wrapping me in its warm embrace, but just as my eyelids fluttered shut, a wave of vivid images and sensations flooded my mind. I dreamt of Max’s touches, each one more intoxicating than the last.

I could vividly recall how he kissed my inner thighs, how his lips found their way to my center. My fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer as he tasted me, savoring every moment. The pressure built within me, an overwhelming tide of pleasure that threatened to consume me. I pulled at the hair beneath me, lost in the ecstasy of it all. But when I opened my eyes to see who it was, I was startled to find long, light brown hair beneath my fingers. The eyes that held me captive were not Maximus’s; they belonged to Valentin Lunerly.

With a gasp, I jolted awake, my hand flying to cover my mouth. I glanced over at Loren to ensure she was still asleep. She let out a strange grunt, rolled over, and resumed her snoring. I breathed a sigh of relief, lowering my hand.

I hadn’t shared a word with her about my encounter with Max. By the time she returned to our room, my tears had dried, but the weight of what had happened lingered in the air. Loren had sensed something was off, of course, but I kept my responses vague and swiftly changed the subject. She was perceptive enough not to press further, a gesture for which I was grateful.

Left alone with my tumultuous thoughts and desires, I felt the familiar silence of my wolf in the back of my mind. I had expected her to be there, either smug or sulking. Instead, she remained quiet, which only heightened my anxiety.

So, what’s your take on all this? I finally asked, rolling my eyes at the emptiness.

Her tail swished in response. I told you before, it’s not wrong to have two mates.

But it is, I countered, frustration creeping into my voice. You heard what both my mother and Loren said. No one has ever broken a fated mate bond and then found another, let alone two! It’s completely abnormal.

Exactly the opposite of what I need to be. I had to stay under the radar at school. I needed to navigate through my midterms, finish my first year, and then my second and third years without anyone discovering my true identity. I had to prove to my mother that I could stand on my own, that I didn’t need a partner—especially when those partners might be someone I had already been intimate with and someone I desperately craved.

I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to quell the chaos in my mind.

Normal is a human concept, my wolf interjected, her voice calm yet firm. There is nothing normal about us. We are a legendary powerhouse capable of shifting between forms. We are sheer magic, Zora.

I need to be a “normal” wolf, I replied with another exaggerated eye roll. Whatever that even means.

You do realize, even your mother and Lunerly do not know what “normal” is for a wolf? she pointed out, her tone challenging.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. What do you mean by that?

Wolves were enslaved for thousands of years, Zora, she replied, her voice taking on a serious tone. The wolves that exist now have been suppressed for so long that they’ve had to relearn the ways of their ancestors.

I paused to consider her words. My understanding of the Pre-War era was limited; it was seldom discussed in my classes, merely referred to as the “Dark Times.” Yet, I had learned about the few remaining tomes that the resistance wolves—my mother and Valentin—had salvaged from the vampires’ libraries. Those tomes contained knowledge about wolves, everything the vampires sought to understand in order to subjugate us.

But there’s nothing in those tomes about having multiple mates, I challenged my wolf. Nothing that’s publicly acknowledged, at least.

The tomes recount the history of wolves past, she clarified, her tone eerie. They do not delve into the intricacies of every wolf that has ever existed.

I blinked, taken aback by her implication. Are you suggesting that you’ve been alive for that long?

In some capacity, she answered. Wolves are passed down through bloodlines. I was once the wolf of your great ancestors.

Holy shit.

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