Story Summary: Jacob Black is a spoiled and moody wolf prince that doesn't care for anybody but himself, but everything he thinks he knows is about change when he buys a newborn vampire at an auction.
Warning: Story deals with mature subjects, get muh drift?
The story will alternate between Jacob and Edward's point of view.
Point of View: Jacob
With a loud irritated sigh I let my untied, steal-toed boots hang over the golden railing as I stretched out my cramped legs. I had sat here in this god-awful seat in this god-awful auditorium for to many hours just wasting the fuck away. You could only watch so many slave's being paraded around on stage before you wanted to go and hang yourself. I was getting sick of it.
It was currently the intermission, and I currently felt like throwing myself over the ledge at just the thought of having to sit through even one more hour of this shit. I despised watching those blank faces, those bare bodies and the creeps who bought them.
"Jasper," I crowed. "Throw me over the balcony immediately – I haven't got the energy to do it myself."
The vampire chuckled behind me. "My prince, it'd do more harm to the wolves below if I tossed you off."
My prince, my prince, my fucking prince! You haven't got a clue how old that gets! Sure, I like the power that comes with it and I wouldn't pass it up for the heavens in the sky, but just one of these days I'd like someone to call me by, you know, my name! If it's never going to happen I don't know why the hell I've even got one in the first place.
I think at this point even a 'hey you' would appease me, although I'd have to knock their teeth out considering I'm the prince and all. But Christ, when speaking to Jasper I don't refer to him as my slave, or better yet my bitch - because come on, what wouldn't he do for me? I say fucking Jasper! Good god.
I get the feeling that Jasper means well, and considering he's a leech it freaks me out from time to time. Though, really, I have him sitting right behind me as one of my personal guards and my full time advisor, not that I normally take his advice, but it's there nonetheless. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I must trust him to some extent.
No, scrap that. I trust that he's a gentleman, because he is – if he was going to stab me in the back he'd be thoughtful enough to give me fair warning first. He's like that, so much so it drives me up the wall more often than not.
Jasper's an empath. He feels what others do and tends to tell me exactly how I'm feeling. To be frank, sad, mad, happy and horny is about the extent of my feelings I'd say, but Jasper likes to take them to a whole new depth. I don't generally like it.
He has these eyes, they pierce your soul like daggers and it hurts, because not only is he opening you up, but you also know he knows. It fucks with your head because he looks so damn innocent; he seems oblivious, yet he's not.
He has this cutesy, bad-boy look going on, and with his southern drawl added to that he's damn near attractive. Okay, whatever, for the walking dead he's pretty hot – I'll give him that. It doesn't matter what I think anyhow, he's entirely straight and entirely off limits.
I, on the other hand, am what I like to call an equal opportunist. I don't care if you're male or female so long as your painfully gorgeous and up for a good romp. I only have one requirement: a heartbeat is a must. However, amongst wolves homosexuality is extremely taboo – it's the whole dicks were made for chicks, we must breed, breed, breed type of mentality. To that I say: why the fuck do I have a prostate then and why does it adore cock?
When bedding a guy. which is rare in its own, I don't typically bottom, but sometimes if the dude is built just right I might not be able to resist. It's an unpleasant give of power, yet a necessary evil at times. What can I say, I enjoy being thoroughly fucked…
Crossing my arms, I huffed. "You're probably right, but if I were lucky I'd break my leg or something to it's equal so we could fucking leave this sleaze-fest."
"If all you want is a broken leg, man, I'll do it!" Emmett boasted from beside Jasper. The wolves around him, the other guards, turned to glare at him. I turned as well, giving him an incredulous smirk even though he really needed to watch his mouth when we were out like this.
I enjoyed letting Emmett get away with shit like that, mainly because I wanted to see how far he'd push it. However, the last thing I wanted was for people to notice my leniency. Hell, what was I supposed to do anyway? Flog him in the middle of the auditorium for calling me 'man'? Actually, that's exactly what I was supposed to do, but what can I say – I'm a little bit lazy. Probably not the best quality to have in a prince.
Emmett was completely different than Jasper, and for that I am grateful. He's my second and last personal guard, and yes he's a leech. He's also boisterous, ridiculously friendly, and so cheerful it often drives me mad.
He doesn't have any sort of power like Jasper, but he's fucking huge and I'd take that over having an invisible vagina at my side any day. The vampire is damn near my size and I don't doubt that we'd be quite evenly matched in a fight.
I'd love the opportunity to try and kill him. It'd be like making love, but murder instead – damn well blissful.
"Emmett, I don't know whether I should thank you, or wonder if I have reason to be concerned."
"I'd only break your leg if it pleases you, my prince."
Jasper offered me a kind smile. "Yet, his heart swells at the thought." I think Emmett would love to kill me, too, or at least cause me a significant amount of pain. I like that about him.
"What heart?" A guard seated beside Emmett grumbled.
My eyes snapped to him. "Do not speak out of turn!" I snarled. I didn't know his name. I didn't care enough to know it. He was nothing but a bug beneath my shoe.
His brown eyes widened, his russet cheeks turning a bright red. "M-my prince, sorry." Have I mentioned how much I hate being called that?
"Oh, you're sorry; well, that changes everything, doesn't it?" The skinny wolf shrunk in his seat and I scowled. "Fuck, look at you – what are you even doing here? You should be at the palace scrubbing floors. That suits you, scrubbing floors!"
"Your highness," Jasper tried to interject. I ignored him, keeping my attention on the scared wolf.
The itty-bitty wolf stayed silent. "What the fuck? Am I talking to myself here? Can you speak, or are you mute as well as dumb?"
"I really didn't mean-" He started.
"Oh, wait a minute, he's found his voice!"
"No…" He shook his head, his bottom lip trembling. This was my guard? Whimpering puppies?
"You, Mr. Big Bad Wolf," I mocked, "have been in the guard for what - five minutes, and you already think you can back talk the prince's own personal guard; do you?"
"Would you relax?" The wolf breathed.
"What did you just say? Say that again!" I growled, while completely turning in my seat so I was almost climbing over. "Say it again!"
"Your highness, please, listen!" Jasper intervened once more, concern etched over his near perfect features.
"No," I spat. "You listen to me, Jasper. I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer it very, very carefully. Take a look around us; I want you to pick a wolf. Got it? Pick any wolf so that I can have him rip this useless prick from limb to limb!"
Emmett guffawed; I seethed. "Are you fucking laughing?" I barked. The leech shut up.
"Your highness, look, my prince, this is all my fault." Jasper confessed. "The wolf isn't part of the guard. I brought him along."
"Oh!" I exclaimed angrily. "So, you asked him to come. So, you asked a fucking floor pig to come and watch my back?"
"I know. I'm sorry, your highness." Jasper sighed. "The wolf pup really wanted to get to know you."
My fingers clenched around the back of the seat. "To get to know me? Is it my fault now?" I hissed in question.
Jasper's eyes widened. "That is not what I said."
"It's what you were implying, though. You just didn't have the balls to actually go and say it."
He shook his head. "No, my prince."
"I never expected this from you, Jasper, not excuses. Never!" I turned my eyes to Emmett. "When we get back you sort the mutt out. You fix this!"
"Yes, your highness." Emmett agreed, not that he had a choice in the matter.
I was about to sit back in my chair when I noticed all the guards' eyes on us. "Stop gawking you ugly mutts! Get working, look for fucking threats!"
With a huff I fell into my seat, crossing my arms, and throwing my feet back up on the railing. Fucking leeches, fucking wolves, fucking Christ!
I made a mental note to kill the king. If it weren't for daddy dearest insisting I make an appearance I wouldn't be here dealing with bitchy puppies, incompetent wolves and having to stare at overpriced slaves all day.
Father had been breathing down my neck for weeks now to show myself somewhere, and finally, for the sake of my sanity I agreed. Yet, in a moment of absent thought I let him pick the place. I obviously could have refused, but I figured what the hell, I could sit here for a few hours - worst mistake of my life.
The heady scent of perversion in here was virtually palpable. If I could sentence wolves to death for being obsessive-compulsive lecherous wack-jobs, I'd start here. They make me want to puke.
The thought of buying someone to consistently fuck like many of them did perturbed me to my wits end. They're slaves, you don't bang the help. Period. That is, unless, they are someone else's slave – like my fathers. To bad she was a rather disappointing lay. Oh well, at least she got the fuck of her life. Someone needed to.
"Your highness, I beg your pardon." I shifted my gaze to my left and to the wolf sitting beside me. Now he was a picture perfect guard - strong, dark and handsome. Though, it annoyed me that he had the nerve to talk to me.
With disdain I eyed the wolf up and down in an attempt to make him feel nervous. "What?" I snapped.
His confidence didn't fade, but I could practically smell his unease. The wolf pulled a pen and a crumpled piece of paper from his overcoat pocket. "I wouldn't – I know I shouldn't, but my daughter… she adores you."
I quirked a brow and leaned back in my seat utterly amused. "You expect the prince to give you an autograph?"
He smiled a little staring down at the pen and paper in his russet hands. He offered a little shrug. "Stupid, I know, but it's for my daughter. I had to try."
I blinked. "You're dreadfully unprofessional."
"I know." He looked up at me, though never meeting my eyes; he knew he couldn't. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity."
I felt a small smirk twist my lips. "You did just see what happened to him, right?" With my thumb I pointed behind me and at the whiney little prick of a wolf.
"Yes, your highness." He let out an apprehensive breath. "But I thought I'd try my luck anyway." That was stupid, really fucking stupid, but it took guts, and I like guts.
I nodded, wrapping a strand of hair around a restless finger. "Got a picture of her?" I asked.
A huge grin full of pride brightened the wolf's face. "Of course!" Leaving the pen and paper in his lap he lifted his hands and pulled a long chain from around his neck to reveal a surprisingly masculine looking locket. I could tell the chain was the perfect length so if he needed to shift the metal would fit snugly around his neck and be hidden protectively in his fur.
He clicked open the locket, handing it to me. Two beautiful girls were inside, one very obviously the mother. Long glossy raven hair covered the little girls shoulders – she only could have been 3 or 4 in the picture. A grin as bright as the sun dawned her face, and I couldn't help but smile at the fact that she had a missing front tooth.
"She'll make a beautiful woman one day." The comment escaped me and as soon as I said it I felt weird. I wasn't one for giving praise.
The wolf chuckled softly. "I know. I'm afraid of that." He tapped her picture. "I named her Emily, after her mother, my imprint."
"Your imprint? Really?" I was genuinely interested and surprised. "That's quite rare."
He nodded, his finger brushing over the woman's image. "She passed away giving birth." Oh, awkward. I used this to remind myself that this is exactly why I don't take interest in others. It's fucking depressing. The wolf swallowed what looked to be a painful lump in his throat. "She gave me my daughter, though. I'm a lucky man."
"Yeah." Was just about all I could say. Actually, I kind of wanted to yell at him for telling me such unnerving things. Fucking asshole.
I dropped the locket back into his hands and he tucked it into his shirt. "I'm Samuel Uley by the way. Friends call me Sam."
I looked him in the eyes even though he wasn't aloud to look back into mine. A surge of stinging pain tightened my chest and I suddenly wondered what it would be like to introduce myself. 'I'm Jacob black, friends call me Jake'. I couldn't fathom it. I couldn't even imagine someone calling me Jake.
My brows furrowed and my lips parted in an angry straight line. "You act like I give a shit." He cocked his head, though quickly righted himself. "I'll call you whatever the fuck I want."
"Your highness, I feel like I said something that offended you."
"Your whole goddamn presence offends me!" From the railing I stomped my feet to floor. "Who the hell are you to talk to me anyway?"
"My prince, maybe you should-" Jasper started, leaning forward.
I held my hand up to him. "Mind your own business, leech."
"You are his business!" Emmett retorted.
"Shut up – the both of you!" I turned my heated gaze back to Samuel fucking Uley, Mr. Fucking Nobody. "As for you, get the hell out of my sight!"
"My prince," My teeth gritted. "Whatever I did, I'm truly sorry."
"Fuck off! Trade places with someone at the end of the damn row."
Samuel stood with the paper and pen in his left hand. With a disgruntled sigh I snatched the two from him. He turned to me in surprise.
I pulled the lid from the tip of the pen and chucked it over the railing. I unfolded the crumpled paper and flattened it against my leg. Placing the pen to the paper and careful not to poke any holes I wrote:
Your father showed me your picture today, and I must admit, even though it causes me to blush, that you have a face that is only fit for a princess. I hope that one day, at a ball to come, you'll accept my offer of a dance?
Prince Jacob Black'
I shoved the paper into Samuel's hand, yet purposely dropped the pen to the floor. He eyed the paper and a wide smile curved his full lips. "She'll love this!" He exclaimed. "Thank you! Thank you, your highness!"
I crossed my arms and looked away from him. "Go to hell." I groused.
The wolf nodded much to excitedly for my words and took off down the aisle, leaving the pen behind. Not even a minute later a new wolf came and took his place.
Right after he sat, I watched as his eyes found the pen on the floor. He bent and picked it up. His mouth opened. Don't. He was about to talk. Don't speak.
"My prince, is this yours?" I wanted to scream. I wanted to fucking scream. The only thing that silenced me was the opening of the red curtains.
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