Once Upon A Pack (Royalverse #1)

Chapter 29

twenty-nine

So…

Bad.

Or, really, good . Too good.

So fantastically incredible that the word “good” sounds like a wet plop when compared to the utter splendor around me.

Gold leaf wallpaper. Gilded archways and roof beams. Wood floors and paneling as old as the monarchy itself.

Huge curved staircases, intricate carvings and stonework. Stained glass. Crystal doorknobs. Chandeliers adorned with actual diamonds .

Art. Tons of it. Beautiful oil paintings of royals dating back for centuries. Watercolor canvases of the countryside. An entire hall of sculptures.

At one point, my eyes start to sting and I realize they’ve bugged out so far, they’re practically rolling on the floor behind me.

The portly man leading us around is named Holden. He’s the royal family’s butler—a position that’s been held by his family for two hundred years . So it’s no wonder he looks at me like I’m something he’ll have to scrape out of the carpet later.

I don’t blame him. This Persian rug probably costs more than most people’s cars.

I haven’t said a word during the esteemed man’s running monologue, so I’m surprised when Dair suddenly growls and yanks our group to a halt.

Asher’s jaw flexes before he calmly tells the butler to go on without us. The man nods, drawls that Their Majesties are waiting in the “throne room”— the throne room?! —and makes himself scarce.

Bast sighs at his retreating back. “Fantastic,” he mutters, rubbing his neck.

Confused, I turn from one tense face to the next, wondering why they’re all so upset. Did I mess up already?

Dair catches my eye and speaks around a scowl. “Your scent, little dove. It’s so stressed, I can barely breathe.”

Oh.

Figs.

I startle, impulsively moving to correct my faux pas. But how do you turn off your scent ? And what happens if I can’t? Will everyone in the entire palace know?

Before I can stammer through any apologies, Dair snaps me into a hug. “Fuck,” he breathes, his chest rumbling. “It’s okay, baby.”

Bast looks at Asher, mumbling, “This is too much. She needs her nest.”

The idea of how outrageously beautiful the omega suite meant for a princess must be only sends me into a whole new spiral. I’ve never even seen a nest before, let alone used one.

Or—oh no — built one.

I hadn’t thought of that ! I’m going to have to build a nest worthy of these men?! In their palace ?!

Desperate to avoid it, I use the way my scent darkens to my advantage. “No,” I insist, shaking my head. “I want to meet Ash’s parents, like we planned.”

The prince frowns, concern clouding his eyes. “Darling, you don’t have to?—”

“Please?” Panic rising once more, I look to Bast, hoping he’ll take pity on me. “Please, my lord?”

My alpha’s blue eyes soften. “Of course, angel. As long as you’re sure you feel up to it. Of course we’ll take you.”

When I was a child, I remember thinking of Asher’s parents as statues. Perfect, stony figures, chiseled to perfection.

They loomed, the way monuments do. Casting shadows, exuding power. The fear of their disapproval, the memory of their influence… it terrified me. Even once I crawled back to Maytown Manor for work, I did everything I could to avoid them.

Lofty, untouchable royals .

Imagine my surprise when I find out they’re just as human as me.

I expect them to be in their thrones. Because this wide, sky-high hall full of blue stained glass and gilt molding does, in fact, have a pair of periwinkle velvet chairs on a marble dais.

They’re empty, though. Just like the rest of the room…. aside from the middle-aged couple standing in its center.

I haven’t seen the king for quite some time, but I’ve certainly heard him. At least once a week at the manor, he would have words for Asher and spend an evening shouting them.

The king matches his voice. He’s… blustery. Thick salt-and-pepper hair swept back from a high forehead. Barrel-chested, with stormy eyes and a thunderous quality, he inspects us as we approach.

Meanwhile, the queen grins and glows. Her features may match Ash’s deep brown hair and hazel eyes, but she somehow seems lighter. Clear happiness shines in her expression when her son winds my arm through his and guides me down the long, cobalt runner.

He stops about a meter away, dipping his head in a mild bow. I remember to curtsy, but my ankles wobble as I lower myself.

Bast and Dair copy Asher. The baron then goes forward with a grin, kissing the hand the queen offers him; while Dair silently slides his fingers against my palm, entwining his right hand with mine and stepping into my back.

“ Maman ,” Bast chirps before motioning to the king. “Your Majesty.”

King Leopold nods, barely glancing at my blond alpha before pinning his gaze on me. Or, really, raking it over me.

“Father,” Asher starts, his tone firm. “This is Miss Ivy Addison, our princess.”

As soon as he says the “P” word, King Leo’s flinty eyes fly to mine. Alpha power rolls off him, crashing onto my head in a mighty wave. My Omega whines, huddling into a ball I wish I could mimic.

I flinch on instinct, but Dair is there. Solid and broad. All dark ink and darker eyes. After giving the king a look that very clearly communicates his thoughts, he completely ignores the monarch, wrapping his free arm around my waist and whispering to me.

“Shh, omega. I’m here.” He may not say the words, but I hear them anyway: no one will touch you as long as I’m around .

Asher’s hand squeezes mine in agreement. He barks, cold and clear. “ Father .”

The king’s mouth twitches in displeasure, but he draws a deep breath and turns to Asher. “Son.” When he flicks his gaze back to me, it’s markedly less intimidating. “Miss Addison. Lovely to meet you.”

Like an idiot , I curtsy a second time. Which means I have to find a way to speak around a mouthful of mortification when the king’s brow draws up, expectant.

“Y-you as well, Your Majesty. Th-thank you so much for?—”

Hosting me? Not making me sleep in the dungeon? Letting your son consider bonding with one of your maids?

“—welcoming me.”

A distinct twitch at the corner of his mouth tells me he wouldn’t classify his feelings as “welcoming.” But before I make an even bigger fool of myself, Asher’s mother sweeps forward with a serene smile.

My eyes go wide when she doesn’t stop, stepping into my personal space and lifting her cool hands to cup my cheeks. I start to panic, but there’s something hypnotic about her. So calm and stately.

She gently turns my face from side to side and nods, satisfied. “You are very welcome here, Ivy,” she announces, as though reading my mind.

The squeeze of Dair’s fingers around me tells me he has, too. And he finds the queen’s intuition as impressive as I do.

He bends forward, murmuring in my ear with a voice as deep and silky as the devil’s. “Don’t get any ideas, little dove. I’m Maman’s favorite.”

Queen Selene laughs at that, the sound genuine. “I think mon petit amour is my favorite,” she muses, smiling at Asher with the sort of maternal affection that puts a lump of grief in my throat.

Oh, dang it .

I keep forgetting they can sense that.

When my scent gets saltier, Asher drops his formal stance and pivots to open his arms for me. Before I know it, his chest is pressed into my side, one long arm around my waist while his hand turns my head for his appraisal.

Green-gold eyes read the sadness welling behind my features as Dair fully hugs me, paying no mind to wrapping his arms around Asher’s. The duke drops his face to my neck and purrs.

Stark compassion covers Queen Selene’s face. “Oh, you poor dear. You must miss your own maman terribly. I was so sorry to hear she’d passed. She was a rare talent, and I simply adored her. Perhaps, once you’re more settled, you’ll allow us to host a memorial service?”

Right now, I can’t do much more than breathe around the wad in my throat. Bast comes to my other side, ensuring I’m boxed between three broad, purring chests. “We can discuss it, angel,” he coaxes. A frown creases his brows. “Though, maybe you’d like to rest first? This has been a big day.”

For some reason, I find myself turning to Asher. Believing he’ll know what to do. Trusting him.

His face softens when our gazes meet. “I’d like to feed you dinner,” he admits, “and get you into your nest.”

My prince’s face brokers no arguments as he regards his father once more. “Ivy is severely touch-starved and expecting her heat soon. She’ll need our attention whenever it suits her Omega—and that will be our top priority.”

To my shock, King Leo doesn’t glare. Instead, he blinks, surprise etching its way into his somber features. “Of course,” he agrees. “That’s understood.”

Asher’s answering nod feels like a handshake sealing a contract. “Good.”

Nerves bubble at the base of my lungs, telling me this isn’t right. I’m going to take them away from their work. What if I need too much or something gets ruined because they had to tend to me? Maybe this isn’t ? —

There isn’t any time to protest. Queen Selene claps her hands, smiling. “You must show our princess her suite!” she exclaims, tossing me a wink. “After all, Ivy’s putting up with the likes of us. She ought to get something out of it.”