I frown, folding my arms over my chest. “But how could that be? I’m only one omega.”
“An omega that would be bonded to a prince, would have the ear of the future queen. Right now people are talking about how you were sent here to destabilize our government. It's turning into some kind of wild conspiracy theory. And there are enough mad people in the world that they’ll believe it.”
I frown. “But why? It's not as though I’m out there opposing the queen, stirring up dissenters.” He gives me a long knowing look. “Okay,” I concede. “One time. I did itonetime. About one issue that a good portion of Bravonnians are also mad about. Why am I being singled out?”
The prince slides his hands onto my hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Because it suits the Queen’s purpose to have you be the villain. She wants us to bond with a gently bred, easily controlled omega. And we both know that’s not you.” His expression is so freaking soft when he says it, full of adoration,like he can’t think of anything better than my defying his grandmother, the Bravonnian people.
“Okay,” I say again. “Fine. So she doesn’t like me and some of the people here don’t like me either. But that’s not everyone, right? There are plenty of people that just don’t care. Hell there are plenty of people that like me.” I smile up at him, seeing if it helps soften him at all. “I was voted the fan favorite for a reason, Sythe.”
His mouth curls into an answering smile, as one of his arms slowly snakes around my waist, like he’s giving me the chance to protest, to tell him no. I don’t though. “You’re charming as bloody hell,cor mea. Of course they fell in love with you right alongside the rest of us.”
My heart lurches then takes off at an alarming pace, while my stomach does this swooping thing that almost makes me feel sick, because… I’m pretty sure the Prince of Bravonne just told me he loves me… or at the very least that he’sfallingin love with me.
His warm brown eyes twinkle down at me. “Breathe for me,cor mea.”He kisses the tip of my nose. “My heart.” My lungs jerk and air rushes into my chest. “Good girl. Can’t have you passing out on me. Breathe in again.”
I do.
He pulls me tighter against him, this gorgeous little shiver moving through his giant frame, as his eyes drift closed, almost in ecstasy, just from this, from holding me in his arms, breathing in my unsuppressed scent.
Knowing I might regret it very shortly—but unable to deny my omega instinct that he needs this in the same way I do—my own arms slip up and loop around him, pulling us tighter. He groans softly, desperately, his head dropping to bury his face in my neck, his beard tickling against the skin as he presses a reverent kiss to my pulse. He lingers there, breathing in timewith me, lips pressed into my skin like he’s counting the beats of my heart.
“You understand don’t you?” Forsythe murmurs, his head resting on my shoulder, arms gripping me tight. “I have to keep her happy to make sure you're safe,cor mea. Even more so now. You’re in her country, where she rules, and I just can’t take the risk of her lashing out at you.”
A shiver rolls down my spine, one that has me nestling closer to him, looking for support, for safety.
“Why didn’t you say anything before? You were so… cold. Polite but distant.”
A choked sound of disagreement rumbles out of him. “Never distant, Florence. That’s impossible.”
I frown and lace my fingers into his hair, pulling until his head lifts so I can meet his eyes. “You wouldn’t even look at me, Sythe. You barely spoke to me. As soon as we landed you all but washed your hands of me. Left me with your pack, sure, but you’ve been gone.”
A sharp shake of his head in denial. “You come at night,” I concede. “When I’m already asleep. And you're gone before I wake up in the morning. This is the first time we’ve had a conversation in days and it’s only happening because I got up at this ungodly hour to pin you down. It feels like… Is this what it would be like if I decided to stay? To be with you?”
His brow furrows and he slides his hand up to cup my cheek, holding me like I’m a precious thing. “I’m sorry,cor mea. This is how it’s always been. I have more duties than the rest of my pack, less free time. When we returned I fell into the habit of it, as if nothing had changed. When really everything has changed. You’ve done that.”
He hesitates, as though he’s not sure he should say the next part. “I’ve been working on keeping her happy to keep you safe.I didn’t want her to be able to point to your presence as a reason for my failure. And for her to take her displeasure out on you.”
He sounds genuinely concerned, like maybe he’s worried she would do more than call me a manipulative shrew to the media. Like he’s worried for my physical safety and not just my emotional wellbeing.
“Is that…” I swallow thickly. “Is that something we should be worried about? Would she… hurt me?”
He sighs. “Not her, obviously, but it would be…”
“She might suggest it to someone else,” Thayer says, startling both of us. I hadn’t even heard him enter the room. “Like she did with Isadora while we were on the show.”
“Isadora… I don’t understand.”
Thayer moves closer to us, expression dark at the memory. “The queen told our would-be-betrothed about your knee. And hinted that it would be awful if something were to happen that would take you out of the competition for good.”
“Capture the flag!” It doesn’t take much to put two and two together. “She tackled me at my fucking knees! She knew about my prior injury?”
“Yes,” Forsythe admits. “Isadora reluctantly admitted it to Thayer after he barked at her.”
I flinch, but just barely. They still see it, though.
“Don’t do that, killer,” Thayer chides me. “She doesn’t deserve your pity.”
“You don’t understand, Thay,” I tell him. Tell them. “You don’t know what it’s like to have your will taken from you like that. It’s… horrifying. And you can’t fight it. I don’t… God knows, I don’t like Isadora. Can’t stand her. But no one should have someone else’s will forced on them. No one.”
