Summary
I always thought that I was the person Your Highness the Prince hated most.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have met me with a cold face and nitpicked every time, scowling even if I glanced at him for a second too long.
But later, I realized he didn’t hate me. He was just afraid I would smell it.
Smell the secret he had hidden for so many years; smell the desire he forcibly suppressed every time he drew near; and smell his estrus period, which had arrived with sudden, violent intensity.
So, when he finally pinned me behind the door in the dead of night, his eyes bloodshot as he asked exactly how much I had smelled, I didn’t even dare to breathe too heavily.
He leaned down, pressing against my ear, his voice low and raspy, bordering on a total loss of control.
“If you dare play dumb again…”
“I’ll assume you’re doing this just to tempt me.”