Page 39 of The Princess and the Pack

Ten minutes.

I leave these two eejits alone with our omega for ten fucking minutes and I return to horror. Just goes to show no amount of good breeding and formal education can fix stupid.

The heart-shattering sound Ivy made as she tried to tear her way from my packmates’ arms will remain imprinted in my memory for all time. To know we did something to bring such a sound into the world broke something vital inside me—like I failed her.

Fuck’s sake, I’ve waited so long to show her I can be everything and more for her. Despite our differences, I’m someone to be counted on. As this pack’s prime alpha, I should have known better than to leave, even if it was to collect things with our scents. Ivy is an omega nearing her heat—she needs all her mates close by in case she requires comfort or relief.

I had hoped the first time she saw her nest would have gone much less…traumatically. But, as it seems with this pack, nothing ever goes to plan.

Still, I refuse to accept defeat this early on. Every pack has its growing pains and Ivy is being exposed to sensitive information we’ve known for ages now. Not just about the scent match, but soon she’ll learn the truth about her entire way of life, and what will happen if we can’t convince her to be our bonded omega.

We have much to discuss with her and so little time before decisions must be made—our tight timeline further accelerated by her upcoming heat. Though I would never force her, I don’t see any reality where Ivy would willingly choose to suffer over being with her scent-matched alphas.

This rushing is much less than my mate deserves. If it were up to me, I would court her for months, spoiling her every single day and showing the entire kingdom how deeply my devotion runs. Sadly, our situation is too precarious to allow for grand gestures, and some level of discretion will need to be in effect until Cillian feels it’s time to tell the court of this new era.

We can’t force this change upon the nobility, but it’s my hope they will follow their beloved king’s lead in his mission to protect omegas.

Bringing this new way of life to court also means common folk and nobility will inevitably need to integrate into packs together. There simply aren’t enough noble alphas for each omega. My ma has four herself, and I’ve known some to have five, even six mates. This, in my opinion, will be the most difficult feat, but this horrid cycle won’t be broken any other way.

All that said, we need to first manage our own predicament before tackling every issue Cillian’s arsehole father left in his lap. At this moment, the only thing I care about is what these two knotheads said or did to make our omega a weeping, frightened mess.

“One of you fools had better tell me what happened,” I growl, clutching my omega tight and rocking her in my lap. Her scent is slowly shifting from burnt sugar back to her delicious apple cake aroma.

“I don’t know what happened,” Cillian babbles. “We were having a cuddle while Ivy was asleep. Next thing I know she’s crying and screaming.”

My mate whimpers then, rubbing her nose against my throat, marking me and taking my scent with her in return. If my heart could sing, it would be belting out ballads right now. No truer pride exists than having my omega mate find solace in my alpha signature.

She’s yet to say anything, and I don’t blame her. The poor thing is in shock after such an intense couple of days. And by now, being this close to the three of us, she must know we’re all her matches. I’m sure that’s quite a truth to endure, given her station and limited understanding of our natures.

“Well, something happened. Isn’t that right?” I ask Ivy in as soothing a tone I can manage. No need for my perfect mate to think she’s done anything wrong.

She nods, making sure not to look either of these first-rate arseholes in the face.

“Why don’t you tell your alpha, hmm? Let him make it all better for you.”

Silence. But Oran’s looking mighty guilty over there with his perpetual sad-sack frown. Fuck’s sake. I can only imagine how far this outburst has set his mind back.

If it were up to me, I’d lock him and Ivy in a room until they fuck and claim each other. Maybe then the bastard will see how much she craves him. Desperate measures, I suppose—I’ll keep the thought in my back pocket if it comes down to it.

“Oran, care to chime in?”

He sighs. He has his pleading eyes trained on our mate, waiting for her attention, but she doesn’t see it. She’s got her face shoved against me, shielding herself from these pricks.

“Cillian and I were talking about…you know…what to say when Ivy woke up.”

More pathetic whimpering from my sweet omega. I loathe the sound—it should be a crime punishable by death for anyone who causes it.

“Liars.” Her whisper is so soft,so distraught.

“Who’s a liar, petal?”

“I never meant to—” Cillian cuts in, but Ivy’s not having it. Her hands slide into my hair, tugging as she maneuvers in my arms. Her soft thighs part against my waist, her back now to my packmates. A clear sign she means to shut them out.

In any other circumstance I would be salivating at having my mate climb me with such vigor. But her heart is hurting and I’m going to fucking mend it if it’s the last thing I do.

“Get out,” I bark, pointing at my packmates.

It’s obvious to me Ivy isn’t ready to speak to them. Better they spend the night outside the nest and figure out a way to fix this mess.

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