3. Chapter 3
Chapter three
Destiny
D estiny was going to murder her assistant.
Sasha was an inexhaustible ball of energy, but she wasn’t dumb. She knew full well that Destiny didn’t want to spend an extra moment in this godforsaken country. Destiny had vented to her assistant that morning, telling her all about Prince Alexander’s drunken visit, fuming over his insulting comments and the mess he’d made on the carpet.
Sasha had been comforting, but not nearly as ready to badmouth the prince as Destiny would’ve liked. She knew her assistant was still caught up in the fairytale of staying in a real castle with a royal family. And she probably really did want to see the stupid Christmas lights.
Destiny shot Sasha a death glare as they were shepherded from the queen’s parlor after tea. Sasha didn’t notice, talking animatedly with Princess Natalya and Mina the royal assistant. The castle was abuzz with activity, workers of all kinds busily preparing for the start of the Christmas festival. Despite her annoyance, Destiny couldn’t help but feel a rush of holiday spirit when she saw the lights and garland decking the halls.
The tour group had grown with the addition of several reporters—including a gorgeous omega with honey brown skin and big brown eyes that Destiny recognized from somewhere. Mina quickly made introductions, calling the pretty reporter “Gen V”, which didn’t jog Destiny’s memory. She pondered it as Mina gave the group an overview of what they’d see on their official tour.
Queen Raina and her kings excused themselves, leaving their children to attend to the guests. Destiny grimaced. The queen and her pack were lovely, and the princess was a sweet girl, if a little bratty. But Prince Alexander, with his arrogant smile and devil-may-care attitude, was an alphahole of outlandish proportions. His presence set her teeth on edge.
Why was he coming on the damn tour anyway? She was a guest of the princess, and he obviously had a vibrant social life he could be getting back to. Surely there were plenty of carpets for him to ruin elsewhere in the vast castle. Instead, he was swaggering along ahead of the tour group, chatting up Sasha, who was melting like putty in his expert hands. Destiny ground her teeth.
It was bad enough she’d had to sit across from him at tea with him looking like an ad for some ruggedly sophisticated cologne as if he hadn’t called her a bitch and vomited on her floor a few hours ago. He could at least have the decency to look hungover. And now that he didn’t smell like a bar, the woodsy winter scent of his skin was almost too inviting. Nutmeg, cedar, and sage. It was a comfortable, earthy, lighthearted scent that made her want to smile. Which was infuriating since the very sight of the prince aggravated her.
“We met at Pack Rhodes’s mansion.” A woman’s husky voice pulled Destiny from her brooding. She turned her attention to the beautiful reporter she’d noticed before the tour began. “I saw you trying to place me earlier. I covered Pack Rhodes’s mating parties for NewsFeed . I’m Genesis.”
“Yes, I remember now! It’s good to see you again, Genesis.” Destiny hadn’t spoken to her, but she remembered the lovely reporter looking rather bored during several of those parties. “Seems like you get all the fun jobs.”
Destiny studied the beautiful reporter. She should’ve recognized the woman right away, with her striking features. Those big doe eyes would be hard to ignore, and Destiny typically never forgot a pretty face. It was a shame omega pairings weren’t a long-term option. She found it easier to get to know and feel safe with other omegas than with most alphas. She thought she wouldn’t mind falling in love with a pack of women, but she hadn’t found any alpha females who suited her either.
Genesis’s slightly upturned nose crinkled in an adorably disgusted expression. “The party never ends,” she replied dryly.
Destiny recognized the sarcasm in her voice. The party never ended, but it definitely got old. Apparently, Destiny had stumbled across another person who’d grown tired of the fast life. Genesis looked a few years older than Destiny, a career-driven unbonded omega who might well be a glimpse into Destiny’s own future: single and still reluctantly jet-setting and partying. She wondered what this gorgeous stranger would say if Destiny told her she didn’t want to endure the grind anymore. What advice would she give?
“It was really cool how you elevated Serenity Rose’s charity during your tour,” Genesis said. “I appreciate you using your platform for good and I’m in awe of the work she’s doing after what she survived. That’s the kind of impact I aspire to have.”
There was a wistful note in Genesis’s voice that felt all too familiar. It was obvious her interest didn’t lie in celebrity interviews and fancy parties. It sounded like the reporter’s exhaustion wasn’t with her career as a whole, but with the types of stories she covered. She needed a change in how she did the job, not in the job itself.
Is that what Destiny needed? To slow down, rather than stop? To make the music she wanted at a pace she set, rather than constantly chasing the top spot?
“Serenity is a rockstar,” Destiny answered, remembering that dialogue required two people speaking out loud. “She’s incredibly humble, but I’ve never met more of a badass. The least I can do is help more people find out about her foundation. As a matter of fact, she’d be a great person to write about. If you could get her to open up, you’d be amazed by her story. I keep trying to convince her that more people need to hear it.”
Genesis’s huge eyes lit up. “Wow! I’d love that! Would you mind connecting us?”
Destiny’s mood brightened as they exchanged contact information, only for it to be immediately dampened by the unwelcome presence of Prince Alexander. He’d slowed his pace until he was at their side and was smiling his arrogant smile as if he expected Destiny to be happy to see him. His scent wafted toward her, stirring her anger into a soup of complicated emotions Destiny had no desire to parse. She glared at him before turning her attention determinedly toward Mina, who was describing the history of the grand room the group had just entered.
Genesis looked between the prince and Destiny curiously, giving Destiny the impression that the reporter didn’t miss much. Her big brown eyes held a shrewd intelligence that paired well with her disarming beauty. It probably made her very good at her job.
“I’ll catch you after your performance, Miss Duvalle,” Genesis said, smirking. “I’d better listen to the tour guide to get some good filler for my story.”
Before Destiny could protest, Genesis winked and slipped away, joining the front cluster of their tour group. Aside from a huddle of reporters who’d fallen behind, Destiny and Prince Alexander were relatively alone. She clenched her jaw, concentrating on sending out go away vibes and not breathing in the prince’s sweet, cozy scent.
“I believe I owe you an apology, Miss Duvalle,” the prince said, surprising Destiny into looking at him. “I’ve come to understand that I gave you a rather undignified welcome last night. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
He sounded sincere, which caught Destiny completely off guard. She hadn’t been prepared for him to own up to his behavior so quickly. She relaxed infinitesimally. Maybe he wasn’t quite as horrible as he seemed.
“Thanks for saying that,” she replied stiffly, resisting the urge to lean toward the pull of his woodsy scent and electric eyes. “It was quite the surprise, but I’ve seen worse drunken shenanigans, I suppose.”
“I’ll bet you have,” Prince Alexander replied, chuckling. “I’ve seen your picture in plenty of tabloids. I know you have a wild streak.”
Destiny stiffened again. She’d been in the public eye for too damn long. The tabloids had done what they did best, twisting her image and sensationalizing her private life to get more clicks and engagement. Time and again, young Destiny’s mistakes had been plastered all over their websites, the details embellished or completely fabricated. She’d had to develop a thick skin.
“Don’t believe everything you’ve read about me, and I’ll try not to believe everything I’ve read about you,” she shot back, fixing him with a cold stare. “Although, you’ve already shown me that the stories are at least partly true whereas I’ve done nothing but try to sleep in a room reeking of your vomit.”
The prince’s eyes flashed. “Someone’s awfully sensitive. Maybe Prince Ammar dodged a bullet with you.”
Destiny wished she had her stun gun. This was her second conversation with this man, and she’d already contemplated his bodily harm multiple times. How could anyone be this annoying?
“Prince Alexander, I’ve been looking for you.” A velvety voice with an elegant British accent interrupted her murderous plotting. “This was not the next item on your itinerary today, might I add.”
Destiny turned away from the prince and locked eyes with the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Again. Yes, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen and so was Prince Alexander and so was Hunter Li and it was completely illogical. Her brain might’ve been short circuiting. Her body most certainly was.
The prince’s chief advisor was tall with broad shoulders and an upright posture that demanded your attention. His close-cropped dark curls, thick eyebrows, and perfectly sculpted goatee contrasted beautifully with his golden-brown skin. His mouth was full and sensuous and filled Destiny’s imagination with all manner of primal, needy fantasies that gave her an unfamiliar thrill deep in her belly. His appearance was comprised of a catalogue of traits that should’ve been compiled into a book called How to Seduce Destiny Duvalle on First Sight .
And his scent.
God, it was incredible! Sexy and inviting, like long winter nights intertwined beneath a warm blanket. Greyson smelled sweet and earthy, like pomegranate and cypress. It brushed over Destiny’s skin, bringing a gentle calm followed by a rush of heat.
Desire. Desire like nothing Destiny had ever known. The kind of desire she thought was beyond her, broken as she was.
Greyson was watching her with an intensity that set her insides ablaze. His brown eyes were hot, pupils dilated, and nostrils flared as if he’d caught her scent as well. Destiny realized she was trembling and that she hadn’t moved for several long moments. She licked her lips nervously, watching as his eyes followed the movement. The corresponding increase in the heat of his gaze warmed her skin, making her stomach flutter wildly. She leaned toward him almost involuntarily.
Prince Alexander growled, startling Destiny from her daze. Reluctantly, she pulled her eyes away from Greyson, only to find the prince staring at them with a furrowed brow and forbidding expression. She glared at him, and he glared right back as if he wasn’t the most irritating man in history.
The nerve. Could he seriously not handle not being the center of attention for one second? She was about to make a cutting remark, when his packmate cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to his beautiful face. Destiny’s glare softened immediately.
“Miss Duvalle, forgive me. I’m a bit starstruck. My name is Greyson Valentine. I am Prince Alexander’s packmate and chief advisor.” He took her hand, sending an electric current through her body. When he pressed his lips to her knuckles, dark eyes holding hers with undisguised interest, Destiny thought her knees might buckle.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Valentine,” she managed to choke out. “You flatter me. I’m sure you often meet people with much more star power.”
Greyson smiled, his full lips parting to reveal a grin that practically incinerated her panties. “I assure you, we’ve never met anyone like you, star or otherwise.”
Destiny felt herself blushing. It was patently ridiculous for her to be blushing. She was used to being flattered, but there was something in Greyson’s gaze that made his praise feel real. She scrambled for an appropriate response.
“You were looking for me and you’ve found me, Valentine,” Prince Alexander snapped, ungraciously interrupting the moment with ill-tempered authority. “Let’s get on with it.”
Greyson lifted an eyebrow, inclining his head slightly. “Of course, your highness.”
Destiny was grateful for the prince’s rudeness, as it provided an excuse to escape the maddening combination of the two alphas’ appealing and frustrating qualities. She remembered to bow her head at the prince before hurrying away to join the rest of the group.
It was suddenly very clear that she should keep her distance from the men of Pack Stepanov.