Chapter 14
fourteen
I’m not a violent alpha.
But I might kill these two fuckers.
I pace between the antique sofas in Their Majesties’ private sitting room, running my hands through my hair so many times, I swear it will start falling out.
On the coffee table, my phone sits silent. Which would usually be weird—but now, it’s unacceptable. Once Dair explained who the omega from the ball really was, we all tried calling the number our housekeeper had on file for her. Until Maman pointed out that our mate probably left her phone behind when she bolted.
“I can’t believe this!” I shout, turning from Asher to Dair and back again. “What the fuck?!”
Normally, spitting insults and epithets in his parents’ precious presence would at least make Asher glower. But he hasn’t looked up from the locket in his hand yet.
His Majesty, Asher Leopold the Fourth—“King Leo”—starts to growl at me, but Maman reaches over and pointedly squeezes his knee, shaking her head slightly.
“ Mon petit chou is right to be upset, dearest,” she tells him. Her pointed gaze snaps back to Dair and Asher. Sharp and full of reproach. “His packmates have let him down.”
I could live without being called “little cabbage,” but at least she’s on my side. I wave a less-than-delicate hand at her and burst, “Exactly! The hell is wrong with you, Asher? You knew this girl for years and never thought she might be your mate ?”
He doesn’t answer. Hasn’t this whole time.
But his dad does.
“That girl was a beta!” he harrumphs, rubbing at the wrinkles around his muddy eyes. “Her mother was a seamstress , for Christ’s sake. He could hardly court her.”
Maman frowns fiercely. “Well, clearly, she is not a beta. Her mother was also an omega—Ivy must be a late bloomer.”
Ivy .
Fucking hell.
I’m still getting used to hearing that name. Because that’s the other side to this whole goddamn mess—I’ve been calling our maid the wrong name for six months. And she is, in fact, Ivy.
Ivy Addison . When we met, and Mrs. Kemp introduced her as Miss Addison, I stupidly assumed that was her first name.
I’m a fucking numpty .
A now-familiar deluge of shame hits me for the dozenth time in as many minutes. Images of me lounging around on my phone while Ivy— our mate —cleared away my breakfast tray or sorted my laundry or balanced on ladders to wash our windows.
God .
I glare at Dair, needing someone else to blame. “And you ! You’ve been barking and scowling at her since the day we got here! You didn’t think there might be a reason she got under your skin?”
If I wasn’t about to put my fist through his face, I might be worried about His Grumpiness. I’ve never seen him so beat-to-shit.
Bent over his own lap, dark hair brushes his forehead while his inked fingers press into his eyes. “I know,” he groans. “I didn’t—she had no scent . I couldn’t understand why I?—”
He looks up, baring his teeth while he strangles a growl. “You guys don’t even understand how badly I’ve fucked this up. And once I knew she probably hated me, I just?—”
Why would he think she hates him? Apart from the way he tried to intimidate her?
Dear Lord—is there more ?
I can’t ask him here, in front of Asher’s parents. But the way he drops his face to his hands makes me think so.
Maman tsks. “So you thought she didn’t like you, and your solution was to scare the poor darling half to death? And parade endless women under her nose?” she scolds, eyeing Dair with her trademark blend of concern and disappointment. “ Cherie , you know better than that.”
Dair shifts, letting his arms fall slack as he nods at the Persian rug and croaks, “I know.”
Asher finally moves. Slowly, his fingers curl shut around Ivy’s locket.
“I knew, too,” he says, agreeing with Dair. “Back then. Every day since. I knew, and I convinced myself it wasn’t possible instead of fighting for the truth.”
His father’s saggy features furrow. “You couldn’t have known,” he blusters. “You did the right thing, my boy. I would have sent her away, too.”
Fire snaps in Asher’s eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly the fucking problem . I did what you expected instead of doing the right thing . What I knew was right for me and my mate .”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard him snarl at the king. The whole room goes still, but Asher isn’t done. He levels his searching, serious stare at his father. “Is this how you would have wanted to treat Maman? To send her away and make her suffer and let her think she wasn’t good enough ?”
King Leopold clearly isn’t used to being called out by anyone who isn’t his wife. He frowns mightily, swelling up to shout—until Maman lays her hand on his arm and turns to him. Whatever her expression conveys immediately deflates him.
“You knew back then?” the king grumbles. “Truly? Without a scent? How?”
Asher looks down at her locket, turning the etched silver heart over and rubbing his thumb along its delicate engravings. “She was”—he stops and swallows, his voice breaking—“the most beautiful person I’d ever met. So…”
“Warm.”
The word falls out of my mouth, and everyone turns to look at me. That sickening shame squirms in my stomach. I remember running into her in the garden this week. Wasn’t she wearing the silver locket that day?
“I think I knew, too,” I admit. With a sigh, I collapse onto a nearby chair, exhaling hard enough to expel the tension that kept me on my feet. “What the fuck do we do?”
Leopold slants another disapproving look at me, but Maman sits back with a harrumph . “I suppose you’ll have to go find her and apologize.” She glances at Dair and her son. “ Profusely .”
“She’ll need medical care,” I realize. “The way she was acting—I don’t think she knows she’s designating as an omega. She must be so confused.”
“And scared,” Dair puts in, uncharacteristically quiet.
Maman shrugs. “We have the finest doctors from the palace with us. We can take care of everything she needs.”
That reminds me—I put in a request with her mother’s medical group to get some of her bills paid off. Now that we know Addi— Ivy —is our mate, though, I can probably figure out some way to get rid of them altogether.
When I mention her mother, everyone turns to gape at me. I look from one face to the next, appalled by how self-absorbed and awful we all are.
“Her mom,” I repeat. “She died five months ago, but she was sick for years . That’s why Ad— Ivy had to drop out of college. It’s why she works here .”
The others gape at me. A vicarious wave of anger rises in my chest as I grit, “None of you ever thought it was odd that she worked seven days a week ? She never had a choice .”
There’s a long, taut moment.
Then Dair pushes to his feet and stalks out.