“To you. And to me. And to her.” She shakes her head and folds her arms over her stomach. “Jesus, it’s like none of you realize what omegas are like. The longer you murmured sweet words in her ears, the more you touched her and kept her when you should have sent her home, the more attached she grew to you. It was cruel of you. Of all of you to do that to her, knowing how it would end.”
Her words land like a blow. She is right. More right than she can know.
“Get out,” I snarl. And she doesn’t hesitate to retreat, leaving the door open.
I stride to it, slam it shut and lock it before retreating to my chair.
Guilt and fury and agony all swirl together in my stomach. She’s right.
As much as I want to deny it, she’s fucking right. We were cruel to Florence. We led her on when we knew we wouldn’t be able to pick her. We lied to her and to ourselves thinking that maybe we could make a different choice, one that would makeushappy and not the queen.
And maybe in Isadora’s mind shewasdoing all of us a favor.
If Florence had been injured and removed from the competition, we never would have touched her in the nest she built for us. Never would have taken the relationship to the next level and we wouldn’t have needed to send her home, utter those five damning words that broke her.
You are not our omega.
Would she be suffering like she is? Sick and dying?
Probably not. We wouldn’t have needed to reject her. She just would have been quietly removed from the show.
Would that be better? Or worse?
Worse.My alpha snarls at me.So much worse.
Florence is ours. And the idea of not knowing that on a soul deep, bone deep level is… unacceptable.
She’s sick, yes. But we can heal her, cure her. And we will.
Of course we will.
I just have to wait for it to grow too much for Forsythe, the weight of her life, and he’ll make the right choice.
I have to trust that.
Later that day, we’re in the sitting room in a rare moment of togetherness. It's happened more in the last day and a half than it has in the month since we left the Azure Bay Resort and Spa.
Piers is pacing in front of the rest of us, hands clasped behind his back, his nerves fluttering down our bond, and turning his scent sharper. It's putting my alpha on edge, not only because Piers is his mate and he wants to sooth him, but also because the last time he was this agitated, Piers told us about Florence. About her being diagnosed with RMD.
We’re all braced for what he’s going to tell us next.
“Ren’s going to do an interview. Live,” Piers says as though this is shocking news. It kind of is. She’s been very careful so far to avoid making comments, giving interviews. We haven’t filmed it yet, but I heard she refused to even attend the reunion episode ofRoyaLove Getaway.It's like as soon as we released her from the show, she decided that no one would get to see the aftermath of her heartbreak.
There have been pictures of her. Paparazzi shots taken on the street as she goes about her day, but she hasn’t commented on any of it. Save for her outrage at the Omega Act.
“That’s all?” Court says, blowing out a relieved breath. “Jesus, Piers. I thought you were going to drop another bombshell on us.”
“When?” Sythe asks, sounding as though the very thought of Ren interacting with the press pisses him off.
“Tomorrow. It's for a morning show. They’ve just started teasing it.”
Morning for her will be afternoon for us.
“Who is doing the interview?” I ask because this matters. I have to believe she wouldn’t just throw herself to the wolves, agree to an interview with an arsehole or someone who’s known for gotcha journalism, but a life in the public eye is new for her.
What if she just doesn’t know any better?
“Heather Howle.”
