Florence’s introduction to society at a royal event. Yes, people would have eaten that up, and she would have looked gorgeous. I could have crowned her like I did on the show, but this time with a real tiara, with real gold and real diamonds.
My heart clenches at the thought. I want it so badly it aches.
Instead I’m here alone. My pack is back in the flat, wearing the pajamas Florence made for us, cuddled on the couch watching a movie marathon, or playing Mario Kart. They hadn’t yet decided by the time I left.
Though I suspect Florence will push for the game. My omega likes to compete.
She’d asked me, before I left, if I was certain I wanted to go alone. Everything in me had cried out that I decidedly did not, that I should bundle her up and take her just as she was with her hair a mess and no makeup on her face, wearing tiny Ashbourne tartan shorts.
But that impulse was overwhelmed by the one to keep her safe, protected. And bringing her here would have painted a target on her back larger than the one that is already there. So I’d kissed her forehead and told her I was sure and she’d frowned as I’d left.
I hate that frown.
It’s on her face far too often these days.
What I wouldn’t give to only see her smile.
You know what you’d need to do to accomplish that,some snide part of me hisses.Just fucking do it.
I tense at the sound of heels clicking across the courtyard toward me, bracing for Isadora’s thick sweet scent to assault my nostrils. I’d come out here to escape her grasping hands. The last thing I want to do is return to my mate with another omega’s scent on me.
“Hiding, are we, little brother?” Elizabeth’s welcome voice comes instead. Some of the tension I’d been feeling releases as her familiar scent washes over me. Honey whiskey and citrus. Similar to mine, but a little brighter.
I hum my agreement. “Indeed, Isadora seems particularly clingy tonight.”
She comes to a stop next to me, the fabric of her gown whispering over the flagstones. “Perhaps she senses she’s on the verge of losing this little game grandmother’s been playing. And she’s getting desperate.”
It's likely.
Even if I somehow find it in me to turn my back on Florence and take Isadora as my wife, it’s not as though I’llever touch her. She would have my name, but nothing else. I’d thought she would be okay with that, seeing as there’s no great affection between us. But I’m worried she might try to push the issue, which my alpha will not respond well to.
Elizabeth tilts her head and looks up at me. “What are you doing here?”
I arch a brow at my twin. “I should think that’s fairly obvious.” When she just stares at me I sigh. “I’m attending a royal party as decreed by the queen.”
“Right, but what are you doinghere? You should be with your pack. You should be with Florence.”
My jaw tightens. “You know how it is, Lizzie. Duty above everything. That is the Ashbourne way.”
“That is the coward’s way,” she growls. Her hands curl around my arm and forcibly turns me toward her. I resist at first, but eventually give in, meeting her glare with one of my own. “Don’t give me that look, little brother. You know I’m right. Choosing duty is a cop out. It's the easy way. It takes all of the choice out of your hands and puts it directly in Grams’, which means she takes all of the blame too, doesn’t it? You’re so bloody terrified of what will happen if you let go of your duty. But you really don’t need to be. I can tell you what will happen, right now.”
“I can too. Disownment. Exile. Poverty. Having nothing at all to offer my pack, my omega.”
Lizzie blinks up at me. “That’s what you’re worried is going to happen? Truly?” A flash of hurt moves over her face. “You think I would disown you? Me? You think I would send you away, never speak to you again? I can see you thinking that of Grams, sure, but me?”
I shrug. “You are the crown. You can’t tolerate insurrection any more than she can.”
She frowns at me. “You say that as if ‘future queen’ is all I am. I am not the crown, Sythe. I am Bree’s alpha. I am a pack mate to George and Henri and Thomas. I am Mina’s best friend. Sister-in-law to Thayer, Courtland, Grieves and Piers. I’m a woman. A caregiver. A lover of animals. And a steward to millions of Bravonnians. But above all of that, Forsythe, I amyoursister.Yourtwin. We were in the womb together. You were my first and best friend. And you think I would let something like my position get in the way of that? In the way of your happiness?”
She reaches up and clasps my shoulders giving me a shake. “I love you, little brother. I want to see you happy. I don’t care if that happiness is with some scullery maid from the kitchens-” I open my mouth to snarl at her that Florence is not a scullery maid, but she keeps on “-which I know your mate is not. But my point remains. She’s your mate, Forsythe, and you need her, regardless of where she started, of where you started.”
“I do need her.” The admission is out of my mouth before I can stop it. “I need her, Lizzie.”
Her expression softens. “Then you should have her.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late. I’ve fucked up one too many times. She’s not going to forgive me.”
Even though she let me touch her, let me bring her pleasure, let me worship her. But I’m not sure it was enough. Not with how badly I’ve fucked up.
