Princes’ Lover

Chapter 25

POV Eva

The courtyard is filled with wolves who have come to watch a man bleed.

Guards drag me from my chambers at dawn, their grips bruising, their faces impassive. I haven't slept. Haven't eaten. Haven't done anything but pace my prison and pray to gods who stopped listening long ago.

The entire pack has assembled—servants and soldiers, council and allies, every wolf who owes allegiance to the Aldridge name.

They form a silent circle around the courtyard's center, where a wooden post stands weathered and dark with old stains.

The flogging post.

And bound to it, wrists lashed above his head, back exposed to the morning sun, is Dominic.

They've already beaten him. His face is swollen, bloody, one eye nearly shut.

His torso bears the marks of fists and boots—purple bruises blooming across his ribs. He hangs from his bonds like something broken, breathing in shallow gasps.

But the moment I appear, his eyes find mine.

His expression isn't fear. It's an apology.

Like he's failed me by getting caught. Like he's sorry for loving me, for touching me, for giving me the one night of genuine connection I've ever known.

Even now, beaten and bound and awaiting torture, his first thought is of me.

"Dominic." His name tears from my throat, raw and desperate.

"Eva." His voice is hoarse, wrecked. "Don't watch. Please. Don't—"

"Silence." My father's command cuts through the air like a blade.

He stands on the raised platform beside the flogging post, dressed in formal attire, ice-white eyes surveying his domain. The enforcer beside him holds a leather whip—long, cruel, designed to strip flesh from bone.

"We are gathered to witness the punishment of Dominic Vasquez." My father's voice carries across the assembled crowd. "A low-ranking wolf who violated his sacred duty. Who defiled the princess he was sworn to protect."

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. Shocked. Scandalized. Hungry for blood.

"The punishment for such a violation is twenty lashes." My father nods to the enforcer. "Begin."

The whip cracks through the air.

The first lash lands across Dominic's back with a sound that will haunt me forever—wet, brutal, devastating. His body jerks against the bonds. Muscles cord with agony.

But he doesn't scream.

I do.

The sound that rips from my throat is animal, inhuman—grief and rage and helplessness compressed into a single howl. The guards holding me tighten their grip as I lunge forward, fighting to reach him.

The second lash falls.

Blood blooms across his back in a crimson stripe, vivid against brown skin. Dominic's hands clench into fists above his head. A grunt escapes his clenched teeth, but still no scream.

"Stop it!" I'm sobbing now, struggling wildly. "Please, stop! I'm the one who started it! Punish me!"

No one listens.

The third lash. The fourth. Each one tears new wounds across his flesh, painting his back in overlapping lines of red. The crowd watches in terrible silence. My father watches without expression.

And my Dominic takes every blow without breaking.

Something inside me snaps.

Strength I didn't know I possessed surges through my limbs—desperate, furious, born from love too powerful to contain. I wrench sideways, breaking one guard's grip.

My elbow connects with the other's face. Then I'm running.

The courtyard blurs around me. Shocked faces. Reaching hands. None of it matters.

All that matters is reaching him.

I throw myself between Dominic and the descending whip.

The leather catches my shoulder instead of his back. Pain explodes across my skin—searing, blinding, worse than anything I've ever felt. I hear fabric tear, feel hot blood running down my arm, but I don't move.

I won't move.

"Eva!" Dominic's voice is ragged behind me. "No, get away. What are you doing?"

I turn to face him, positioning my body as a shield. Tears stream down my face, mingling with the blood from my wounded shoulder.

"What I should have done from the beginning." My voice breaks. "Protecting you."

"Eva, please." He strains against his bonds, desperate to reach me. "I'm not worth this. I'm not—"

"Don't."

I step closer, close enough to cup his bloodied face in my hands.

"Don't tell me what you're worth. You've protected me since I was eight years old. Carried me when I fell. Lied for me. Bled for me. Stood silent while your heart broke because you thought you weren't enough."

My thumbs brush his swollen cheekbones. His dark eyes, one nearly closed, both swimming with pain, stare into mine.

"You've always been enough, Nic. You've always been everything."

And then I kiss him.

Tender. Deliberate. Undeniable.

In front of my father. In front of the pack. In front of everyone who ever told me a princess couldn't love a bodyguard.

His lips are split and bloody, but they soften beneath mine.

For one perfect moment, nothing exists but the two of us—bound together by something stronger than pack law, stronger than bloodlines, stronger than the impossible weight of expectation.

When I pull back, the courtyard is deathly silent.

I turn to face the crowd.

"I love him."

My voice rings clear across the assembled wolves.

"I have loved him my entire life. Not because he's an Alpha or a prince or a strategic alliance. Because he's good. Because he sees me—not the princess, not the bloodline, just me."

I find my father's face in the crowd. His expression has turned to stone, but I don't look away.

"You can punish me however you want. Flog me. Execute me. Cast me out forever."

My chin lifts with defiance I didn't know I possessed. "But I won't pretend anymore. I won't choose politics over love. I choose him. I will always choose him."

Shocked silence blankets the courtyard.

No one moves. No one speaks. Even the wind seems to hold its breath.

My father descends from the platform with slow, measured steps. The crowd parts before him like water. He stops directly in front of me, close enough that I can see the muscle jumping in his jaw.

"You dare." His voice is barely a whisper, more terrifying than any shout. "You dare make such a declaration in front of my entire pack."

"I dare." I meet his ice-white eyes without flinching. "Because I'm done being your pawn. Your broodmare. Your disappointment."

"You've signed his death warrant." My father's gaze flicks to Dominic. "And your own."

"Then we die together." I reach back without looking, and Dominic's finger, bound above him but still reaching, brush against mine. "At least we die honest."

My father stares at me for a long, terrible moment.

Then he turns to address the assembly.

"You've witnessed my daughter's confession." His voice carries cold and absolute. "She admits to treason against her bloodline. Both she and the bodyguard will be imprisoned until judgment can be passed."

Guards surge forward, seizing me once more. Others move to cut Dominic down from the post, not gently.

But as they drag us away, bloody, broken, condemned, our eyes meet across the chaos.

And despite everything, Dominic smiles.

Small. Pained. Full of love.

I smile back through my tears.

Whatever comes next, at least we face it together.