His smile is gentle, warm enough to light something small and dangerous in my chest. Then he nudges me out of our quiet corner, guiding me a few steps back toward the main cluster of guests. “Go talk to them,” he says softly. “At least say hello. Maybe start with Courtland if you’re nervous.”
A huff escapes me. “Feel like coming with me for moral support?”
His hazel eyes slide around the room, taking in the cameras, producers, and the camouflaged crew behind false walls. “I’m not supposed to be on camera.”
Right. Because even though he’s a member of their pack, he’s not official. Not public. They keep him an arm’s distance away.
I try to imagine that—being bonded but hidden. Loving a pack who pretends you’re just the assistant. The help.
My heart cracks for him, just a little. What would that even feel like?
Lonely, I think. Painfully lonely.
Ignoring the daggers Lulu and Marshall are shooting at me, I push onto my toes and kiss his cheek softly before whispering, “I see you. Even if the world pretends not to.” When I pull back, he’s adorably wide-eyed. His fingers brush the spot I kissed, afaint, startled flush blooming across his cheekbones. “Thank you for the conversation, Piers. I… hope we get the chance again.”
“Same, little bird.”
The nickname lands low in my stomach, making my toes curl in my heels. His smirk says he notices. Great. So Piers is just as swaggeringly dangerous as the rest of his pack—just in a softer package.
He steps away, leaving me standing alone at the edge of the party.
Okay. You can do this.
I inhale.
Just walk over. Introduce yourself. You used to be good at this. Courtland is friendly—probably. Don’t overthink it. Don’t run. Just… go.
I take one step.
A single, brave, stupid step that wobbles on the too tall heels.
“You know you’re supposed to be chatting with the princes,” a slow, syrupy voice drawls beside me, spoken at the exact speed one would use while explaining something to a toddler.
Unfortunately, I’m caught off guard enough to answer with, “Pardon?”
Which, judging by the disdain dripping off her expression, is not the response to convince her of my intelligence.
She sighs dramatically and rolls her eyes before gripping my shoulders and physically rotating my body toward where Forsythe and the other alphas lounge like decorative gods. They just need someone waving a palm frond and another person feeding them grapes to complete the image. “That is the Royal pack,” she says, enunciating every syllable. “You’re here for them. Chatting with the help won’t earn you any favors.”
It actually might, I think to myself. If they see that I don’t look down on people, if they see I’m capable of treating everyone with respect. And if it doesn’t, if that’s not what they’re looking for in a mate, in an omega, then I probably don’t really want to waste my time with them, anyway.
She runs her eyes over my dress, over me. And I know, even though I felt beautiful when I stepped out of my cabana, she's going to cut me down. It happened so many times at the Omega Academy, at the ballet company, just in everyday life.
This is familiar territory, and I can absolutely handle it.
“Though, maybe that’s where you’re most comfortable. With the help.”
I could tell her that Piers is a member of their pack, bitten in and bonded to defend myself. But if she’s not smart enough to figure that out on her own, then I’m not going to spoil that surprise. Because with the exception of Isadora, who announced loudly and often that she was raised alongside the Ashbourne pack, I’m not sure anyone knows who Piers is to them.
I smile at her instead. “Look, Odi—can I call you Odi?” Her name is Odette, but I’m not feeling generous enough for all those extra letters. “You might think the fastest way to a pack’s heart is acting like you’re above everyone else,” I say lightly. “But I happen to believe it’s the opposite.”
I cup a hand beside my mouth, like I’m sharing a secret. “Treat everyone with respect. Even the help. You know—treat others how you want to be treated, be the change, shine your light, all that stuff.”
Then I drop my hand and let my smile sharpen just a little. “It doesn’t cost anything to be kind. Doesn’t make you weak. It just makes you a little less of a shitty person.”
She blinks at me, like she can’t believe that I—a lowly commoner—would dare to talk to her like that. And then her eyes flick over my shoulder and a smug little smirk curls her lips.Not unlike the one Lulu gave me earlier when Thayer came up behind me. Which gives me an inkling of who exactly is behind me.
One of the alphas.
