Page 17 of The Princess and the Pack

The surrounding court continues with their babbling—excitement swelling because Fate and her fairies deigned to bless our kingdoms so wonderfully. Surely this must be a good omen for the prosperity our mating will bring to us all.

Smiles stretch across the faces of every person I’m able to perceive. All but my sister, Rose, who eyes my king and me with obvious cynicism. Knowing her, she’s keen to spout off something that would ruin the moment. Luckily, she chooses to hold her tongue. A rarity, but I’m glad for it.

“Darling,” Cillian says softly, pulling my focus back to his profoundly handsome face. Such joy, such wonder, is painted on his flawless features. “I’d very much like to make you my wife. Are you feeling well enough to continue?”

Unable to stop my eager hands, I trace the shape of his lips with my thumb. Now more than ever, I long to feel his mouth on mine, just as his letters promised. Instead he kisses the pad of my thumb so reverently the breath is nearly stolen from my lungs. “I would like nothing more.”

Cillian raises a brow, a secret smirk upon his lips as this unspoken thing passes between us. If our lust-addled scents are any indicator, we have similar thoughts on the one thing we would both enjoy more. Something which requires no audience—and no clothing for that matter.

Though omegas are not known for their patience or delaying gratification in any regard, I’m quite sure this wait will be well worth it.

* * *

My palm looks so delicate encompassedin Cillian’s massive hand. The warmth of his grip and the sureness with which he stares at me is as dizzying as it is consuming.

It is one thing to marry an alpha who looks as though the gods took extra care in his creation. It’s quite another to have him regard me as though I were something sacred and fleeting—like I would disappear if he let his eyes stray for even a moment.

I thought he would at least break his gaze when the Namarian handfasting ritual began. Each of our respective siblings came up one-by-one and bound our joined hands with silk ribbons. I thanked each of them, making sure to meet their eyes as they bestowed their blessings on our union.

I assumed my intended would have done the same.

But I was misguided in thinking my alpha’s devotion would be so easily shaken. If anything, the king became more firm in his resolve to catalog each and every detail of my face as we entered into our marriage.

Now, as Prince Ciaran finishes tying the final knot, Cillian finally breaks his focus from my face to see the work our families have done. Thread by thread, they have sealed what was already written in the stars: Cillian and I joined, at long last.

The king’s smile is near blinding—bright as the sun and equally warm. I’m the lucky omega who’s destined to bask in it.

“I’m yours, Ivy. Until I’m ash upon the wind—longer even,” he vows. A final promise to make us truly one.

“As I am yours. Now and forever,” I return with a shaky exhalation. Though it isn’t doubt that makes the words hard to speak, but rather wonder.

“I think it’s time I kiss you, wife.”

The deep timbre of Cillian’s voice drips with eagerness to deepen our physical connection, and I’m inclined to give myself over to similar urges. Not to indulge with such an exceptional alpha specimen would be a crime against nature.

“Kiss me then, husband.”

Something animalistic tears from the king’s throat as he bands his free arm around my waist. The spark of wildness in his eyes is a sure sign he would have no qualms about handling me rather indecently were our hands not bound.

My perfume blooms, eyes fluttering shut, as my mate bends to take my mouth against his in a kiss that is both tender and possessive. The firm press of his lips, the heat building between us, the scent of the sea permeating every ounce of my being—nothing has ever felt so right as this.

Around us, cheers ring out in celebration of Namara’s king and queen. And while this may very well be the happiest moment of my life, something unsettling lingers in the back of my mind. Be it a figment of my earlier delirium, or a truth I’m not sure how to process, Cillian is not the only one to whom my soul calls.

Blazing fire, all-consuming in its potent beauty, and emerald eyes that burn just as hot. I swear I scented him—saw him there beside my mate before the heady wave of heat knocked me down. My heart races and my scent swells at the very idea he could be mine.

But is this a delusion driven by my selfish desires?

When Cillian breaks our kiss to present me to his court, familiar green eyes are the first thing I see. Lord Oran Rafferty watches me, devouring me. His stare is like a brand, searing my skin with his possessive claim. I’m little else but a captive to the knowing smirk pulling at the corner of his plush mouth.

“Now, we feast!” Cillian calls to the crowd.

Before I can find my bearings, my new husband leads me off the dais and away from the mysterious tug I feel toward his best friend. I have many questions about this new life of mine—but they will have to wait for another day. For now, I vow to give my husband the attention he deserves on this most special day.

I’ve never hated general merriment so much as I do at this moment.

Cillian has wed our omega—an event I’ve long readied for. Yet I find myself wholly unprepared for the warring emotions this occasion has stirred in me. I’ve waited an entire year to see her again, hanging solely on the memory of the night we shared. But the ghost of Ivy pales in comparison to the vision she makes in the flesh.

And the way she smells?Fuck.Incredible, practically edible, and gods, would I love to eat her—lick every inch of her soft body and mark her up with my obsession.

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