LycanPrince by Anastasia Maltezos Read Free Book Online Page A

too many questions and he needed answers fast. He couldn't deny his attraction to her and he couldn't help admitting his father would approve of her. But that wasn't enough for him. She clearly didn't like him and that little matter was starting to irritate the hell out of him.
    He never had trouble with wenches before. He was not blind to his attributes women seemed to find attractive and yet, this one female, this one wench, had shown him nothing but disdain and caution since she met him.
    Vasilis was puzzled. Puzzled and perturbed. Were the gods amused at his predicament? Discovering a wench with the ideal qualities for a mate and she didn't even like him?
    He paused and noticed his walk had brought him to Alex's tent. He wondered what she would do if he barged in and demanded answers. He was the prince, dammit! A Lycan warrior prince.
    He wanted to know everything about her. He frowned and took a step closer to the entrance. Was she even awake? What of the little one? Wouldn't his rough entry startle her?
    He frowned again, but this time because of a sound he heard coming from inside. It sounded like a moan or a whimper. Concerned, he flung open the flap of the tent and entered.
    He heard a groan coming from his left and he peered into the semi-darkness. Cracks from the tent allowed moonlight to filter through the shadows and he was able to make Alex out. She was twisting and writhing on her cot.
    "Ariel, where are you?" He heard her mumble.
    She moaned and he strode to her cot, kneeling beside her. He gazed at her expression and the pain and grief he saw etched on her lovely features made his heart thud. He put a hand on her forehead and murmured soft words to help wake her, but she didn't stir from her sleep.
    Gently, he brushed away the errant tears on her lovely face. Vasilis became unmanned. There was no strength or bravery on her beautiful face, only fear and worry and he'd never felt as helpless as he did now.
    She stirred and he watched her expression slowly change. A peace seemed to come over her and she sighed in her sleep.
    "Thank you, Vasilis," she murmured breathily and he felt his heart swell with warmth.
    "Wake up. Alex, wake up," he said more firmly, gently rousing her on her shoulders.
    Slowly she opened her eyes, their dark brilliance nearly taking his breath away. She focused on him as their gazes meshed and locked, a delicate frown lining her perfectly arched brows.
    "Vasilis?" she whispered.
    "You were having a nightmare. I went for a walk and heard you moaning in your sleep."
    Her expression changed slowly from one of confusion, to fear and then finally to understanding. "Thank God it was just a dream," she said softly, sitting up to peer into the darkness toward Ariel's cot. Her little sister was sound asleep.
    "It sounded like you were having a bad dream about Ariel."
    She nodded slowly and looked at him. He wanted to reach out and brush her dark, silky locks away from her face, but stopped himself in time.
    "I was. I…I couldn't find her. There was a mist and I heard wolves--it was awful."
    "It's over now. It was just a dream."
    "Yes."
    He wanted to say more, but couldn't speak. He found himself running his gaze over her lovely face, her soft, vulnerable mouth, her lashes still damp from her tears and he felt pole-axed. This was a side of her he hadn't seen. A vulnerable, frightened side that made his every male instinct violently surge forth to protect her. The sheer force of his emotions took him aback.
    "Thank you…thank you for waking me up, Vasilis."
    She spoke so softly, he had to lean forward to hear her. And then she smiled, a shy, sweet smile. He couldn't take his gaze off her mouth. Her lips were made for kissing, full, soft, inviting and without thinking, he bent his head further. He wanted to taste her.
    She drew in a small breath and her lips parted slightly, her smile disappearing. Vasilis felt drawn toward her and leaned even closer, their lips barely touching, his mind on the