The princess and the pac.., p.21
The Princess and the Pack, page 21
Ever since Liam and Fiona secretly bonded, the Dempsey noble pair have visited more often and for longer. Understandably so, as it’s hard for Liam to take leave when he’s got such an important position at the castle. I know the three of them are eager for this secrecy to be brought to light so they too can announce their pack. Hopefully, Liam can then retire from his post and join Tiernan and Fiona in his rightful place in the House Dempsey. For now, though, it’s important they keep up appearances. I know the feeling all too well.
By the time I make it to the north wing of the castle, I’m nearly out of breath—and also decidedly less angry at Oran than when I began my search. He’s hurting himself more than anything, so berating him won’t get me anywhere. Especially when he’s dealt with verbal abuses being slung at him his whole life.
What Oran needs is a fucking hug and some encouragement in order to see the error of his ways and make things right with our omega.
When I reach Pack Dempsey’s chambers, I rap my knuckles against the sturdy wood—three short, familiar knocks. It only takes a minute before the warmth of Tiernan’s amber eyes and his cool, easy smile greet me.
“Come to collect a lost lamb, have you?” he teases, opening the door wide to reveal my somber, redheaded packmate sprawled out on a settee. His long arm is slung over his eyes like he’s fainted and can’t be arsed to move.
The fucking dramatics of this one, I swear.
I chuckle, clapping Tiernan on the shoulder before stepping inside. “You say lamb; I say mopey, feral cat.”
Cackling, my friend shuts the door behind us. “You know, I never would have befriended you lot when we were young if I knew how often I’d be playing counselor.”
I raise a brow, questioning. “You’ve been getting many visitors, have you?”
Tiernan shrugs. “Just Ciaran. He’s been a bit out of sorts over another Lucernian royal. Seems those Bancrofts are sirens, luring all the McKenna heirs in one-by-one.”
“All? Surely not Cal.”
He smirks in answer. A story for another time, then.
“Yes, poor unfortunate you with your perfect scent match and your perfect pack who don’t give you any fuss,” Oran scoffs from his seat. He deigns to grace us with his presence and sits up, looking as miserable as I expected.
“You’re making your life so hard, my friend,” Tiernan says as he joins Oran on the settee.
I choose a seat across from them, where I can look Oran in the eyes. “You really stepped in it, brother. Why?”
He sighs, throwing his hands in the air. “I don’t fucking know. It was going so well. Then she kissed me, and I thought, can it really be this easy? One conversation and I’m forgiven? After all this time, I built up the notion that she’d be horrified to learn the truth about us. I was convinced she’d think we were some animals who wanted to bring her into a life of debauchery. But instead, she just…wanted me. And that made the least sense of all.”
“Oran,” I exhale. Poor lad. His father has fucked his head so badly. He can’t even accept that his own mate would offer him affection. “Ivy wants you. You need to get that through your thick skull.”
He waves his hand, as if batting away the truth of my words. “She wants me because of my scent. That’s all.”
“No, you fucking eejit. She wanted you before she presented—before she had any idea what your scent might be, remember? You’re a good alpha who deserves to be happy.”
Beside Oran, Tiernan throws an arm around him. “He’s right. Grumpy and growly you may be, but you’re a good egg, Rafferty.”
Oran just laughs, dry and humorless. The pink of his freckled cheeks speaks to his discomfort over receiving compliments. “Doesn’t matter, since she hates me all over again now.”
I roll my eyes. “Ivy came crying to me, worried over your heart. I doubt very much that she hates you.”
“I made her cry?” Pain radiates in Oran’s emerald eyes when it registers.
“Yes, you twat,” I scoff. “So what are you going to do about it? Sit here moping or win our omega over? She’s so ready to be loved by you, Oran.”
Tiernan catches my eye, smiling softly. He loves Oran like a brother, just as I do. We’d both like nothing more than to see our friend bonded and happy.
“Oran, you know my pack and I will support you—all of you—when this comes to court. We’re ready to stop hiding too. You have so much love behind you, and even more ahead. Believe me when I say, bonding with your scent match is the most incredible, sacred thing in the world. I was reborn when Fiona let me claim her. You deserve that.”
I agree, nodding along in understanding. Ivy is the reason I draw breath now. Just being able to reach through the bond and shower her with my love is a comfort for my own heart. Oran will feel settled once he bonds with Ivy. So much of his self-doubt will dissipate the moment her warm, tender care wraps around his soul.
“What do I do?” he asks earnestly.
I breathe a sigh of relief, pleased he’s ready to listen. “Just tell her how you feel and be ready to accept what she has to offer. You won’t regret it, brother.”
Oran nods. A small smile tugs at the corner of his usual frown. “I’m ready for her—for everything.”
“Thank fuck for that.” I laugh.
Tiernan joins, clapping Oran on the back. “No time like the present,” he adds.
“Thank you both,” Oran says, standing and taking his leave with little ado. I’m glad to see the urgency in his steps.
“Being prime has aged me,” I groan.
Tiernan hums in acknowledgment. “What would we do without you burly bastards telling everyone what to do? I’d have been lost in all this pack business without Liam to guide me.”
Liam is a lucky man to have Tiernan and Fiona. Lord and Lady Dempsey have been in love since we were young—long before they ever realized they were Fate-blessed. When Liam arrived, he had an uphill battle to fight, with his scent match being a noblewoman who was already married.
But Tiernan, the good man he is, wanted what’s best for Fiona. And what’s best for her is to be surrounded by her mates. Fiona has said she doesn’t feel like their pack is yet complete, but I’m certain when they can finally be open about their situation, the right person—or people—will come along.
“Thank you,” I say, rising to hug my old friend. “For everything you’ve done and all that’s to come.”
Tiernan returns the embrace, patting me on the back. “Of course. Besides, I’m charging the king for all my services anyway.”
We share a laugh full of excitement for what lies ahead.
“If Oran bonds our omega, it’s worth every coin.”
I miss my wife.
After knowing the perfect ecstasy of having her in my bed, in my arms, and holding her high regard—I’m fucking withering away with this distance between us. It’s not right to be apart, especially when Ivy’s this close to her heat.
I should be at her side, growing this new love we only just began to nurture. At least, I thought our hearts were aligned. I can’t even tell how she feels anymore, only that when she looks at me, it’s no longer with tenderness. Instead she’s guarded, shuttering away the sweet smiles and witty quips I’ve come to adore.
I understand why Ivy’s upset, but I wish she would forgive me and welcome me back into the warmth of her affection. Never in all my life would I want to hurt my sweet mate.
Even before I knew of our scent match, I planned to do right by her. Though our betrothal wasn’t something we chose, I was eager to know her.
Like Ivy, I had romantic notions of falling in love and building a happy life. I hoped to show her that Oran and Sloan could be good alphas to her as well; together we could break the cycle of our predecessors and live in spite of those who would have us suffer and die for little more than vanity.
When I scented my mate, however, I lost my fucking head.
All plans of careful courting and spending time getting to know each other during her visit flew out the window. I could hardly stand to be in her presence for one minute without my teeth aching to claim her. My knot would swell at the mere thought of rutting her—of getting her round with my child like some mindless animal who sought pleasure over practicality.
Gods, I was an eejit. I know this now. Lying to her, no matter how noble the justification, was a fucking disaster of an idea. Ivy was always meant to be my queen—my partner—and she had every right to be informed once I learned of the gift we’d be given.
Even if she’d reacted poorly to the news of my plans for a pack, I could have spent the time and effort to win her over to the idea. But I was selfish, wanting her safe and secure in my court—in my bed—so no one could take my sweet fate from me.
Ivy deserves so much better than me and my stupid plans.
I’m just so used to making decisions for others. Even as a boy I felt the weight of responsibility for my kingdom, and my brothers. We may be triplets, but I’m the oldest—the heir apparent and their keeper. When my mother got sick and I learned my father knew how to save her but wouldn’t, I made a promise to myself to be better than he was. Not only for my brothers and me, but for all the people of Namara who’d been tricked into early graves for the sake of tradition.
All that will change when the people of our court learn of our pack and the plans we have for a new Namara.
“You’re not even listening to me!” Ciaran shouts, cutting through wallowing thoughts of my mate. “This is typical. You with your head in the clouds, Callan is fuck knows where, and me—invisible. No one pays any mind or respect to the middle child.”
“Fuck’s sake almighty, Ciaran,” I grumble. “Can we temper the dramatics a bit?”
My brother has been spectacularly on edge the closer we get to this coronation. I’m grateful to him for all he’s done to ensure its success while my focus is elsewhere. But I wonder if his short temper has more to do with personal matters.
His intended, Prince Lanier, is set to arrive in Namara soon. Once he does, he won’t be leaving; Ciaran’s wedding to the prince is not far off.
My brother and Lanier are like Ivy and me: betrothed since birth in order to forge alliances across the sea. Unfortunately, with Ciaran’s impending nuptials, his dalliances with Prince Aspen must soon come to an end.
We’ve yet to broach that subject, and I can sense now is not the time either. I only hope he’ll be happy, regardless of what comes.
Ciaran throws his head back, cackling. “Don’t speak to me of dramatics, you self-important prick. You’re about to turn our entire way of life upside down, and all I’ve done is support you. The least you could do is listen when I’m discussing details of your coronation.”
I sigh. As much as I hate to admit it, Ciaran’s right. “I’m sorry,” I offer. “Please continue.”
My brother nods, the flush of annoyance bleeding from his fair cheeks. “As I was saying, you and the queen will enter through the—”
The echoing clang of the throne room doors interrupt the prince. The scent of spiced apples and all things lovely floats upon the air, making my mouth water. My queen—my beautiful omega—enters, looking the picture of sensual beauty with her ocean eyes trained on me.
I wish more than anything they held the same warmth as they did on our wedding night, but I’m prepared to do what it takes to win back her heart.
Beside me Ciaran exhales, resigned to the fact he’s now lost the very little attention he held. When Ivy is near, she steals all of my focus. “Well, this has been a splendid waste of time,” he says. “I’ll leave you to it, brother.” He greets my wife, bowing at the waist with a polite “Your Majesty” before exiting and sealing off the room to give us privacy.
I’m not sure that’s what Ivy wants, given the way she’s biting her bottom lip. But, if I’m honest, I’m pleased at the chance to have her full attention.
“You’re more beautiful every time I lay upon you, darling,” I say in hopes to draw a smile from her perfect mouth. My words may mean little at this point, but she deserves the praise.
Ivy nods, unsmiling, and steps closer. “I—” She hesitates. The flush upon her cheeks speak to nervousness, or perhaps her impending heat is affecting her greatly today.
I close the distance between us, hoping she won’t retreat when I place a hand beneath her chin and draw her gaze to mine. “What do you need?”
“It’s silly.” Her tense tittering unsettles me almost as much as her belief I would ever consider her requests frivolous.
“Never, omega. I told you before, I’ll do anything you ask of me. Just tell your alpha what you need.”
My mate sighs, leaning against the steadiness of my chest and buries her nose against my throat. “I just felt like I needed you—needed your scent. But if you’re busy, I can take my leave.”
Panic courses through me and I secure an arm around her waist, holding her tight. She can’t leave. Not when this is the first contact I’ve had with her in days. Not when she sought me out. I’ll show her now that regardless of what’s happened, she can depend on me. “I’m never too busy for you.”
Ivy breathes me in, taking comfort in my alpha signature, her sweet scent perfuming the air around us. Gods, it’s so potent, so mouth-watering that I’d die to get her taste on my tongue. There’s so much we didn’t get to discover about each other and I could kick myself for not taking the opportunity to spend hours with my head between her beautiful legs.
This isn’t the important thing, at present. What I really need is for us to talk through our problems, but my scent match is so near to her heat. It’s a natural response, as her alpha, to be ready to please her at any given moment.
“I wish we could go back to the moment you realized,” she whispers. Her arms wrap around my neck, her perfect tits pressing against my chest, and I’m seconds from begging Ivy to take me back to her nest. “I wish we could start over.”
Gods. She has no idea.
While I can’t regret any of our time spent together, I would do things differently if given the opportunity. But all my wishes won’t turn back the hands of time. As much as I hate that I’ve hurt her, the only way through this mess is forward.
With my nose in her hair, I steal a bit of her scent, letting it ground me as I ask for absolution. “I’m so sorry I can’t grant you that wish, darling. But I swear, if you can forgive me, I’ll never do anything to lose your trust again.”
Ivy’s answering sigh is swift and sad, like she can’t fathom such a thing could be possible. She pulls back—her beautiful ocean eyes a storm of tears and anguish. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to do that.”
Sharp pain, like a searing blade, cuts open my chest to expose my bleeding heart to her. I can’t stand it—can’t stand how powerless I feel to make her see that my love is pure and full of good intention. But I deserve this, for breaking her trust. An omega should never have to question her alpha mate.
“I understand. I’ll wait as long as I must to earn a place in your heart again.”
Ivy nods, lifting up on her toes to bless my cheek with the soft press of her lips. “Soon, I think, Cillian. I’m trying.”
It’s so much more than I’ve earned, but I cherish the small hope she’s left at my feet. Just as I savor the warmth—the radiant resonance—that lingers where her lips touched.
It’s all I have to hold me over as she leaves the comfort of my embrace, taking my heart along with her.
Sloan is maddening in his perpetual belief in me, and his annoying habit of being correct. I’m lucky beyond words to have friends like him and Tiernan—and the royal pains in my arse that are the McKenna triplets.
I rushed from the north wing of the castle in search of my omega. I don’t want this wound I’ve caused to fester for a second longer. I should have asked where she’d be, but my feet led me, just as Fate did, directly to her.
My queen exits the throne room, a frown upon her pretty face. I can’t have that. Time to fix this mess once and for all.
“Your Majesty!” I call, walking toward her with purpose. This is too public a setting for all the things I need to say, but urgency wins out over practicality. “May I have a moment?”
“Of course, Lord Rafferty.” Her pretty blue eyes shine with amusement.
The moment I’m close enough to scent her, I breathe easier. Her presence alone is a miracle—a healing essence from the gods themselves, made just for me.
Ivy ambles beside me, a tentative smile on her lips. Our fingers nearly touch, the tension between us thrumming as though we are alone in her nest. I was so stupid to ruin our moment earlier—still relying on the walls I’d built to keep me safe from further pain.
But Ivy isn’t the arbiter of my heartbreak. She’s my salvation—the one who heals my hurts. Just as I’ll be for her. She’ll never need to worry about my loyalty. I’m so fucking obsessed with her—I’d rather cut out my own heart than ever betray her.
No matter what my family took from me by means of my self-worth, I wished against all odds for a great love. One that didn’t leave me empty. I know now that wish was granted when Ivy came into my world. She was always meant to be mine—to renew my tired spirit and bring me back to life.
The moment I scented her, my stone-covered heart pounded with an insistent need to be near her.
To keep her.
To surrender.
Truly, she is everything I dared to dream for in the dark.
“I’m sorry, love,” I breathe.
“As am I.” Her words are hushed, careful of any onlookers roaming these halls.
“Ivy, no. You don’t need to be sorry, ever. I was callous when all you did was give me a chance. It’s just—I’m terrified to want you as badly as I do.”
Ivy’s fingers brush against mine in a secret reassurance that she’s here with me. Her scent is sweet and bursting with ardor. “I’d rather die than hurt you, Oran,” she whispers.
