“We have that same duty, little bird.” She flinches when Piers all but calls her a duty, and I see the remorse on his face as he takes a step toward her, hand outstretched like he wants to comfort her. “Not like that. We want to take care of you, Ren.”
The rest of us nod emphatically. Thayer presses a hand to his chest. “My alpha is raging at me that we let this happen to you. Worse that we caused it. It's not duty, killer. It's need. We need to take care of you, to make it right. We need to know you’re healthy. That you're safe and provided for.”
Florence’s lower lip quivers before she stiffens her jaw and folds her arms over her chest. “And your idea for doing that is to make me your pack’s mistress.”
“It’s the only way we can take care of you the way you need,cor mea,” I say the words firmly. With anyone else they would see it for what it is, a line, a statement, a truth. They certainly wouldn’t see it as an invitation to argue.
But Florence does.
Of course she does. She’s never backed down from a fight when she thinks she’s right.
“Well, we both know that’s a lie. Don’t we, Your Highness,” she sniffs.
I grit my teeth, biting back an angry retort. I don’t want to fight with her. I never have. Not like this. But if it’s what it takes to get her to see reason, to get her to let us help her, I’ll stand here arguing with her until we’re both blue in the face, until she understands that we need each other.
“What about when Isadora goes into heat?” Ren asks harshly, changing the subject too rapidly, it takes me a moment to catch up.
“Whataboutwhen Isadora goes into heat?” Grieves asks, calmly. “You think we’re going to fuck her?”
“Won’t you?” Our omega cries, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Won’t you? Isn’t that the whole point of having an omega? Of choosing her? Do you imagine she’d be willing to endure a heat alone? Or are you planning on letting other alphas take care of her, impregnate her? With the new laws any babies conceived will be tested for paternity, what are you gonna do when the world realizes that none of you are the father? How would that fit in with the perfect fucking image of the royal pack? How would your grandmother react to that, Forsythe?”
I flinch and she sees it, but I don’t back down. “There are ways to prevent pregnancy, Ren. She can use them. She’ll have to if she wants to avoid being seen as the omega who would cheat on her pack. On the royal pack.”
There’s a long, drawn out silence and then Ren laughs, loud and harsh. “Right. Of course. An answer for everything. Your way or the highway. You’ll hold her reputation over her head, protect her position as a princess, keep her in line and all the while you imagine you’ll be fucking me? Cheating on her with me?”
“It wouldn’t be cheating,” Court says. “She means fucking nothing to us, Pix. You know that.”
“She must mean something,pretty boy.” The way she wields his nickname is like a weapon, meant to cut. He flinchesfrom the slice. “She must or else you wouldn’t be bonding her. I’m not saying you care about her, or hell, even that you like her. But she means something to you. To all of you. She means security. She means duty. She means stability for your pack. Keeping your titles and your position in court. She means a lot of fucking things. And the fact that you’re picking those things, it just proves how shallow and selfish you are.”
“No,” I snarl. “No, if we were selfish we would pick you.” And that is the truth. “If I were being selfish, if I didn’t have to think about the consequences of my actions, how it would reflect on my family, how it would affect my country, I would pick you, Florence. If there was nothing else for me to consider but my happiness. I would pick you. But I don’t have that fucking luxury, do I?”
“Luxury,” she mouths the word and as she does all of the fight leaves her. Just drains out of her. I mourn the loss of that fire, that spark that had kept her glowing. Now she looks pale and worn down and on the verge of collapse. My alpha is rattling against my ribs, snarling at me to fix it, to fix what I broke and that need only grows when she gives me the saddest excuse for a smile I’ve ever seen in my life and nods. “Oh, I understand now. I’m a luxury you can’t afford. Something you can look at through a window, something to covet but never own. Something you would never choose because you’ve already decided the price is too high without checking the tag. And in doing that, making that choice, you’ve all decided that my happiness, my health, my pain, and my fucking life, is an acceptable cost.”
“No, please, killer, you have to believe-”
“Days,” she says harshly. “You’ve known I was sick for days, and you didn’t bother to check on me or come to see me until I fainted on national television. Until the entire fucking world knew I’m your fated mate.” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the only reason you’re here is to cover your asses. Soyou can point to your cross Atlantic flight and say, ‘see? We did what we could for her.’” She backs up another step, almost to the door of her bedroom. “No, you decided I was an acceptable cost to your duty a long fucking time ago, Thayer. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Another step and another. She’s almost out the door now, almost out of reach, and I know once she disappears from this room, we won’t get the chance to talk to her again for hours, maybe even days.
It's right there on the tip of my tongue to bark at her, not harshly, but just a gentle command tostay. To not run. To talk this out with us. But she’s also only been awake for an hour. She just went through a physically traumatic experience and now we’re forcing her through an emotionally traumatic one.
She needs space.
She needs time.
She likely needs to talk with Haven to help her process her emotions.
And I can’t give her much, but I can give her that. For now.
So when she squares up her shoulders and tips up her chin and says firmly. “I think you should go now.”
I shake my head. “We won’t leave you like this,cor mea. But you can go, find your friend, take a breath and when you’re ready we’ll be here to work this out with you, yeah?”
I half expect my pack to argue, to ask that she stay now, but they must sense what I do, she’s on the verge of breaking further and we cannot let that happen. Will not.
So we’ll let her retreat and rebuild her defenses, while we do the same.
Her brow wrinkles, like she can’t figure out what our angle is, why we’re still here, why we’ll probably always be here, no matter what I said earlier about not being able to stay. Now thatI’m here, with her, I don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to tear myself away.
