“There’s no way we’re going back to that,” Court adds, circling around behind her, nuzzling into her hair like he can’t help himself. “I know it’s hard to believe, Pixie, given how we treated you before, but we’re committed to this, to you. We want to figure out how to move forward with you as our omega.”
Piers joins us as Court finishes, lacing his fingers through hers. And then it’s the five of us standing together with Forsythe on the other side of the room. Florence leans to one side to look around me at our prime, like she’s waiting for him to declare his commitment too.
But it doesn’t come.
Her scent, which had been sweet and mouthwatering, turns sour and bitter with disappointment.
She carefully disentangles herself from all of us, stepping out from between our bodies and shuffling back toward the door. All that fierce fire she’d come in with, smothered under Forsythe’s refusal to pick her. In her mind if our prime doesn’t want her, she won’t be able to have the rest of us either.
She pauses at the door and looks over her shoulder. “Let me know when you want to leave, I’ll be ready.” And then she slips away into the early morning light.
We watch her go, listening to the sound of her bare feet padding across the pool deck, the click of the door that tells us she made it back inside safely. And then we all turn to look at Forsythe.
He rubs a hand over his eyes, likely trying to wake up more fully, to plan. “We should leave this afternoon. We’ve been gone too long.”
Normally a statement like that would result in a flurry of movement. I would check in with our guards, make sure they know where to be and when. Piers would pull up our schedule and make sure what the prince wants is possible. Thayer or Court would reach out to our pilot and flight crew, to have them get the plane and flight path ready. The other would begin arranging lodging for Florence in Durvain.
But not one of us moves.
Forsythe drops his hand. “This is a good thing.” I can’t tell if he’s trying to convince us or himself. “It’s progress. She’ll come around. See reason. We’ll be able to take care of her and do our duty-”
“Duty?” The word spits out of me on a snarl. “The only duty I’m interested in is the one to my mate.Sheis my duty. Nothing else fucking matters. How do you not see that?”
Even now, when we’ve hurt her so badly, she’s bending herself into a shape to fit what we need. Not fully, thank god. If she just gave up and agreed to be our mistress, I’m not sure I would ever forgive myself, I’m not sure I’d be strong enough to resist.
Having Florence in any capacity is a dream.
But I know in time, she would resent us. Resent the time we would have to spend with Isadora, just as Isadora would resent Florence. Though I don’t give a shit about that.
I meant what I said earlier, I’m committed to Florence. No other omega will mean anything to me, not like she does. And I sure as hell am not going to disrespect her by even pretending to choose another omega over her.
When she asked us to put ourselves in her place, to imagine her being paraded around on the arms of another pack, having her only for her heats and nothing else? That changed fucking everything for me. I saw exactly what we were asking of her. Even if she wasn’t sick with RMD, I wouldn’t want that for her.
What kind of bloody arseholes are we to even consider it?
She’s ours. Our mate. Our omega.
She deserves to have the world know it.
She deserves to have us proudly declare it.
Not keep her hidden away.
“I know,” Forsythe says, sounding resigned. “I know. She’s important. She needs to be taken care of, and we need to be the ones to do it.”
“Progress,” Court whispers, pumping a fist into the air in premature celebration.
“We just need to figure out how we do that and keep my grandmother happy.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I nearly shout. “She shouldn’t even be a factor in this.”
Forsythe’s dominance swells in response to my own, filling the room. “She’s always going to be a factor in my life, Grieves. This has always been the case.”
“Even after she orchestrated an attack on your omega?” Thayer asks quietly, his voice level. “You do remember that, yeah? That she told Isadora to take Florence out of the competition by crippling her? This is the woman you want to keep happy?”
Forsythe’s mouth tightens even further until he looks like he sucked on a lemon. “It’s not about what I want. It never has been,” he says sounding appropriately regal about it. “It’s about what’s good for the country.”
“Ah, yes, the country with omegas who are about to have most of their autonomy stripped away,” Court mutters. “Not to mention packs. Have you read what will happen to people who go through unsanctioned bondings?”
