The tailor came back out carrying a handful of garments. “And here we are! Please feel free to try them on.”
“Er, right now?” Rourke asked.
“Yes,” I said with a slight grin. “Go on. Put on a show.”
The blush on his cheeks deepened, but he accepted the garments and muttered, “Fine.”
It was a fine outfit, even for this particular tailor, whose work I already enjoyed. Cotton and silk combined to make a form-fitting tunic, along with a matching pair of trousers. The color was mostly black with red accents, to contrast with my outfit of white and blue. The decision to make our outfits complement yet oppose each other was a striking one. Rourke’s garments would be a standout even among the omegas in the upper quarter. I smirked, imagining their jealous faces when analphastood them up in the fashion department.
Rourke observed himself in the mirror with a slight glint of awe in his eyes.
“Do you like it?” I asked.
When he was quiet, I thought he might be gearing up for a snarky remark, but instead he spoke in a soft and genuine voice. “Yes. It’s… wonderful.”
Something about the quality of his words sent a flutter through my stomach. I ignored it.
“Well, I’m glad you’re wearing something that actually fits you now.” Turning to the tailor, I said, “You can go ahead and burn those other clothes.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
After the tailor shuffled away, Rourke looked at me. “I can’t believe you spent that much money on me.”
“Did you expect to be dressed in a potato sack?”
His lip curled. “No. But that’s a lot to spend on an alpha you despise so much.”
The comment made me blink. “I don’t despise you, Rourke. Wherever did you get that idea?”
Rourke’s smile faded. For a moment he just met my gaze. It was the longest span of eye contact we’d ever made, and it made that strange feeling return to my stomach. I wanted to look away but I didn’t want to lose, to be the one to falter. Rourke was the one who finally broke it.
“Youboughtme,” Rourke said.
“I am gentle with my possessions.”
“You treat me like a dog.”
“My dogs are well mannered and live a life of luxury,” I said.
Rourke blew out a sharp breath, no longer looking at me. “Nevermind.”
Had I misstepped somewhere in our conversation? I was only telling the truth. What was he so upset about? No doubt hundreds of alphas would gladly line up to take his place as the alpha of the prince.
Right?
The tailor returned to tell me, happily, that he’d burned the old clothes. I thanked him and left. As we stepped outside, sparkling caught my eye. Rourke’s diamond collar glittered in the sunlight, but against the backdrop of his fine black clothes, they seemed to shine even brighter.
He was a handsome specimen. That was objectively true. He’d drawn my eye in a way no other alpha had, especially those prim and proper pedigreed ones at the viewing. They lacked the ruggedness, the wild intensity that Rourke radiated.
A slow realization dawned on me. I wasintriguedby Rourke. It was something I’d known in the back of my mind, buried in a corner where I didn’t have to think about it, but it was front and center now. I had never wanted to know somebody the way I wanted to know Rourke. People were open books to me, but Rourke was a puzzle.
It was, frankly, unbecoming for an omega—and especially a prince. All my life I’d known alphas were people to be used and then set aside, forgotten. But the thought of doing that to Rourke was wholly unappealing. There was so much I didn’t yet know about him, puzzles I had yet to solve. I couldn’t just put him in a room to collect dust when I was finished with him.
No. I didn’twantto be finished with him.
“Something on my face?” Rourke asked.
We hadn’t even taken ten steps out of the tailor’s shop. I’d been staring at him this entire time. God of Fertility, I was acting like a fool.
