Destiny sighed and flopped down on the bed, resisting the childish urge to pull out her earbuds and throw them across the room. The evening had been a flurry of these kinds of phone calls and conversations. She’d been in meetings and on calls with the monarchy’s PR team, her PR team, her mother, and several concerned friends. She was exhausted, emotional, and so damn over it.
Destiny didn’t want to admit that the people she wanted to talk to the most were the ones she felt compelled to avoid. After the notifications interrupted her movie day with Pack Stepanov, Destiny had stormed angrily from the packhouse without another word to any of them. She’d managed not to be alone with them since, hiding out in her room as much as possible.
Not hiding. Decompressing. Perhaps nursing hurt feelings that had no business being so intense. Not when she barely knew these men.
Damn them and whatever they’d done to her emotional and physical regulation skills. She’d been slandered online plenty of times, and usually was pretty unbothered by it. In fact, compared to some of the things that had been written about her, this was pretty tame.
So why was she so upset about it?
“I will do my best to schedule my scandals more conveniently for you in future,” Destiny snapped, interrupting her mother’s rapid-fire commentary. The line went silent. Destiny winced, immediately wishing she could take the words back. “I’m sorry, mom. I didn’t mean that. It’s been a long day.”
What had gotten into her? Destiny never spoke to her parents that way. She was always patient and amenable. Perfect. Their golden girl.
Had it always been this exhausting?
“What’s going on, sweetheart?” Her mother’s voice had changed from the crisp, businesslike cadence Destiny had grown used to into something softer. It made Destiny feel suddenly young and homesick. “Did something happen with the prince?”
“No!” Destiny answered quickly, before swallowing hard and trying again. “Maybe? I don’t know. It’s fine. My hormones have been all out of whack since I’ve been here. I must be nearing my heat.”
Her mother hummed thoughtfully. When she spoke again, her voice was gentle. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but you can if you want. Whatever it is, we can figure it out, honey. You don’t sound like yourself.”
Destiny laughed hollowly. Would her mother even recognize the real her if she dropped her guard and stopped playing the perfect daughter? Hell, would Destiny recognize herself?
“What if myself is more like this, mom?” she said, blurting the words before she could talk herself out of it. “What if I’m tired and cranky and not in the mood to do a private performance for a princess or the president?”
Her mother was quiet for a moment. Destiny’s heart leapt to her throat. She shouldn’t have said that. She should’ve waited until she was home and had some time to think through how to approach this conversation. She should’ve planned it out, figured out how to soften it.
“Then I’d call their event coordinator and tell him you’re no longer available,” her mother replied. “And you’d come home and rest or go to a fancy spa or stay and fight with the Avondalian prince or whatever you needed to do to be happy.”
This time, Destiny couldn’t choke back her sob. “Y–You wouldn’t be disappointed?”
“Oh, honey no.” Her mother sounded simultaneously concerned and mortified. “Is that what you think? Sweetheart, I love being a part of your career because music has always made you happy. But the best part of my job is spending time with you.”
Destiny swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. “Really? But if I don’t work, you don’t either. And then there’s all the travel you’d miss. I know you and Pops and Dad and BD love trekking around the world with me.”
“Pfft,” her mother dismissed her concern with a huff, before continuing in an earnest tone. “Honey, I am so grateful for thelifestyle your talent has allowed us to live, but if you never do another gig, you will still be my pride and joy, Desibug. I’m sorry if I’ve made you think I care more about your career than your happiness. You’re my baby girl. I want nothing but joy for you. If performing isn’t bringing you joy right now, then we shut it down.”
Destiny was outright crying now. She wasn’t prepared for the flood of relief that followed her mother’s words. She hadn’t realized how heavy a burden she’d been carrying. It felt so good to put it down—to be herself without fear of disappointing the people she cared about most.
“Oh, honey. I’m going to text Sasha and tell her to come and hug you so hard for me! Have you been worried about how I’d react? Oh my god, have you been feeling this way for a while?” Her mother’s voice was stricken. “Destiny, I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. And lowkey pissed that you didn’t feel like you could tell me sooner. Emotions are so weird.”
Destiny snorted a laugh through her tears. “Yeah. Emotions are really weird.”
Her mother was quiet for another long moment, but it was a pleasant silence. Destiny didn’t feel the need to fill it with worries about her parents’ expectations. It was incredibly freeing.
“You’ve never been one for tears and mood swings, even around your heat. Which, by the way, should still be at least a month away, and you’ve been pretty regular all tour. Of course, that could change…under certain circumstances.” Her mother was trying and failing to sound casual. It made Destiny smile. “I know that you’ve always thought there was something wrong with you because you never reacted much to alphas, that you weren’t omega enough, or some such nonsense. But I know my girl. You’re perfect and always have been. You’re just on thedemisexuality spectrum. You need connection before you can get your groove on.”
Destiny covered her face with her hand. “Mother, how do you even know what demisexuality is when you still say things like ‘get your groove on’? Please don’t say that to anyone else.”
“Hush, child. You know what I’m trying to say.” Her mother laughed, then her voice went soft again. “Take care ofyou, Desibug. You’ve done more than enough for the rest of us. Do what feels right toyou. Your instincts won’t lead you wrong. And your dads and I will always support you one hundred percent, no matter what. You could literally murder that prince, and we’d just get some bail money together.”
Destiny hadn’t felt so light in ages. She heaved a heavy sigh, letting her shoulders fall. “Thank you, mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, Bug,” Her mother replied. “And please don’t murder the Avondalian prince. We might have a hard time getting you out of that one, and then I’d have to get arrested to come be with you and then who’d take care of your dads?”
Destiny chuckled, feeling better than she had since the article posted. “You are so extra.”
“I know,” her mother replied proudly. “Andyouknow how the media is. The prince was careless with his words, but I’m sure he feels terrible about all of this. Give him some grace. You two seemed to be starting to get along.”
