Chapter 11
eleven
How can I want something so much and also hate it so fiercely?
I don’t know. But every pace across the gold-veined floor is a lesson in extremes.
I can’t get there fast enough. I also want nothing more than to return to the way the world was five minutes ago. Before I saw this blonde little omega and my insides lunged for her.
Because all I can think, with every step my feet eat up, is I’m sorry .
So damn sorry for so many things.
Loving Ivy. Making Ivy leave me. Trying to forget her. Failing at the forgetting. Thinking about her. Even now. While this new woman drags out a part of me I thought I’d already given away.
Should have given away.
I’m sorry, goose .
The fact that I know she would understand only makes this worse. I can practically picture her face—the wide, genuine smile she would give me, even if her eyes watered.
I drag myself across the floor, regret and urgency screaming through me. My heart pounds in my ears, the sound thick and oddly slow.
I’ve studied enough about anatomy to know that’s not right. My pulse should be higher with all this stress. There’s only one reason why it would drop into a calmer rhythm at a time like this.
My mate.
This beautiful girl, in her glimmering blue dress, flitting wide-eyed looks at Bast’s face and then over at the crowded ballroom. Her lips twitch a couple of times, like she wants to smirk, but she’s too nervous.
That sweetness appeals to me.
I hate myself for it.
Bast has his own mask dangling from his left hand. I wonder if there’s a specific instinct at play, something in all of us that wants this woman to see our faces.
He must be flirting up a storm because the omega is having hard time keeping herself from laughing. And her scent ?—
It hits me as I step closer. Warmth and sugar and something… comforting. Familiar. A sweet, buttery piece of paradise.
Either way, it sails right through the neutralizers in the air, puncturing my lungs like a well-honed dagger. My center pulls taut as my spine snaps straight. Every cell in my airway vibrates until a low rumble hums out of me.
A purr.
Bloody hell .
Self-loathing and awe jostle one another in my chest. I’m not sure what it does to my scent, but the omega suppresses a quiver. Bast takes note, too, drawing a step closer as his brows pinch in consternation.
“The air conditioning can be drafty in here with the hot weather outside,” he chuckles, playing off her obvious goosebumps with a gentlemanly smile. “I prefer warmer climates for this season. Where do you usually summer?”
Because I’m slightly behind her—fixating on the cool, lustrous waves brushing her bare back—I can’t see if her expression matches the awkward pause she allows. Finally, she fumbles, “Oh, I—um. Well. Summer? I usually stay, um, here?”
Confusion settles between Bast’s brows, but he keeps his charming grin in place, God love him. “On the continent, you mean? You know, there are some beautiful places right in our own backyard. I should really mention that to His Highness. Although”—he catches my eye and winks—“you might get the chance before I do, lovely.”
I live and die and hope and hate every second that it takes for her to turn around . But then it’s done. And we’re face to face.
Years of training serve me well. As she dips into a curtsy, I incline my head and offer a hand. With her chin tilted and the silver-blue mask covering half of her features, I can’t see very clearly. But I get the distinct feeling she’s gawping at my outstretched palm with disbelief.
I feel my mouth curve, but another gasp of pain pangs into my diaphragm. Because this shy hesitance? Barely-there manners coated in utter earnestness?
It all reminds me of Ivy.
A lot of things about this woman do, actually. Her fine-boned, unmanicured fingers. Her wispy eyebrows. The way her front teeth press into the corner of her lower lip while she sets her hand in mine.
Have I lost my mind?
This couldn’t actually be her . Because Ivy was a beta . And this omega smells like all my wildest dreams and darkest fantasies, dusted in a fine layer of sugar.
She inhales sharply as our palms meet. I understand why when an answering snap of electricity thunders through my veins. Crackling up my arm, right down to the quiet corner where my heart sits.
Covered in ivy.