And that means her.
We’ve done this before, back on the show, by way of apology for the absolute tripe my pack spouted at her after the kissing challenge. Back then it was a way to show the viewers that they still saw value in her, that they still enjoyed spending time with her. But now? This is all about proving ourselves to her.
We’re here for her.
And we need her to see that.
An hour later, I’m sweating, but I feel amazing.
Not only from the yoga, but from being around Florence, from having her hands on me, even if it was only to gently correct my posture, my stance, to help me sink into stretches deeper.
After the class breaks, we stick around helping her to wipe down the mats and roll them up.
“When’s your next class?” Forsythe asks, even though we already know. It wasn’t hard to find it on their website.
“An hour and a half,” Ginny answers before our omega can lie.
“But I have to stick around the studio,” Ren says, shooting a glare at her little sister. “Watch the front desk-”
“I can do that!” A female voice says brightly. Our omega’s glare turns on the beta bounding into the room wearing yoga pants and a sports bra. “It's kinda my job.” She flicks her hand at Ren. “Get out of here. Go hang out with your pack.” Her eyes widen and she belatedly bobs down into a curtsey. “Sorry, your highnesses. Not used to doing that.”
“You’re not the only one.” Forsythe sounds amused, relaxed.
Maybe we should make yoga a part of his daily routine.
Though it might have more to do with being near Florence than anything.
He’ll probably never admit it, but he needs her as much as the rest of us do. Probably more.
We’ve been trying for years to convince him that duty to his grandmother isn’t the only thing that matters, but he can’t seem to accept it.
Florence might just be the thing that makes it stick.
“Please,cor mea,” he murmurs to her, holding out his hand palm up in invitation. “Sit with us, have a cup of coffee, talk with us. That’s all we’re asking for.” I can hear him add,for now, in his head.
Ren glances around the room, as if looking for support in denying us, but she finds none.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, she mutters, “Fine, but it needs to be quick.”
“Of course,” Court’s quick to agree. “We’ll have you back here in time for your next class.”
Episode 15: A Bite of Bitterness
Florence
We head to a cafe just down the road that serves coffee, pastries, and smoothies. Before I went on the show Ginny and I would come here after every class she took, we’d get a snack and catch up. Mostly it was her telling me about her week, the drama she’d been going through at school, the friends who were in a fight, who was dating who, that kind of thing.
We’ve had to stop that tradition though. People got too weird about it, about me. And the last thing I want is to expose my little sister to their rude comments and sense of propriety, as though I owed them something.
But with the five members of the Ashbourne Pack clustered around me, I have the feeling that no one is going to say anything, not to us directly. Though as we walk down the street, there are a fair number of heads turned, whispers behind cupped hands, furtive glances as though that will hide their attention from us.
It doesn’t.
Even worse, as we approach the cafe, a paparazzo pops out in front of us, snapping picture after picture. Grieves growls and steps in front of me, while the others tighten around me, hiding me from view of the camera.
“Back up,” Grieves snarls.
“Are you here because Florence is your fated mate?” he asks, still snapping pictures, lifting his camera high as though he can get it tall enough to photograph me over the hulking alpha.
