Once Upon A Pack (Royalverse #1)

Chapter 42

forty-two

“You have got to be joking.”

Jasmine’s face looks a lot less appealing when she’s scowling. Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve started taking a perverse sort of pleasure in that fact.

Whenever the princess scrunches her nose in disapproval or glowers at me like I’ve lost my mind… well, at least she’s just a little less beautiful?

It’s more than that, though. Ever since the afternoon Asher claimed me, I’ve felt different. Changed. But also more like myself than ever before.

As unfit as it might make me, I’m beginning to believe the guys truly want me to be myself. Sometimes, it even seems like they need that.

One thing at a time , I coach internally, remembering the advice my mother used to give me. When you don’t know what to do, just do the next right thing .

Being a queen? Ruling a country? Maybe not. But this? Choosing a space for the pack’s “official sitting room”? Simple enough… right?

A flutter of warmth tingles in my belly as I turn and look around the derelict drawing room. I nod once, certain. “Yep. This is it.”

Queen Selene glides forward with a serene smile. The wide legs of her blush suit pants float around her legs, sending a new flurry of dust motes drifting into the golden air.

Jasmine’s disapproval isn’t so shocking. This room hasn’t been used for quite some time. As in, centuries. But that feels fitting, somehow.

Asher, Bast, and Dair will be the first group to ascend to the throne in generations. Even without me, they stand a chance to become the first bonded pack to rule Crenmore in two hundred years …

During one of our many lessons on the Everhart lineage and the history of Everdeen Palace, Selene explained that the princes’ wing is actually the oldest. Designed specifically for a pack of rulers instead of a single monarch.

There’s even a separate throne room on the first floor, shrouded in tarps—designed with enough space for four or five thrones instead of two.

This particular parlor is just down the hall from the Omega Suite. A cozy pocket with a wall of windows that matches the one in my room.

It’s clear no one has used it in eons. If the dancing dust particles swarming the air weren’t enough of a clue, the decor would be a dead giveaway. Half the room is missing furniture, but the pieces left behind are clearly decades, if not centuries, old.

I turn in a semi-circle, clapping my hands excitedly. “It’s perfect, I think. Just the right size. And I love that chair.”

I point to a particularly elegant chaise lounge upholstered with an ice-blue damask pattern. Queen Selene nods, exuding pure approval as she sets a hand on my shoulder. “If this is the room you feel is right to host your private engagements, then this is the room we will use! I’ll get the maids in here this afternoon.”

My stomach twists. “I can clean it up. Really. There’s no need to?—”

Jasmine shoots me an exasperated look. “Ivy. Not this again.”

Selene casts our guest a soft, quelling glance. “It must be hard,” she says to me. “Going from being the one called to tidy up after us to feeling like you’re making someone else do it.”

In truth, it’s been one of the more difficult parts of this change. I expected to hate dressing up, but Bast has made that a fun bonding activity for us. And I thought for sure I would mortify Asher in public, but he’s only proven, time and again, that my natural instincts and reactions are precious to him.

And Dair…

I have a feeling he would personally gut anyone who made me feel out of place. The first few times the butler sniffed at me, the duke snarled so viciously I thought we’d be calling the maids in to mop up actual blood .

Which would have been a lot worse than dusting off old pieces of furniture and shaking out some drapes.

I know, on some level, that the Everharts pay their staff very well and treat them graciously. Everyone I’ve encountered since arriving at Everdeen likes working here. They consider it an honor and remark regularly on what fine leaders Asher and his father are.

Even back at Maytown Manor—everyone adored the royal family. They all liked their jobs and performed them happily.

I was the miserable one.

Gazing after Asher, wishing against all hope that he would finally turn around and see me. Feeling my insides tweak from longing whenever Bast graced me with his perfect, dimpled grin.

Really, as employers, they were perfectly good to me.

It was His Grumpiness who made my job hell. Barking, snarling, scowling, sneering. And staring . Always. Burning those hot-coal irises into my profile at the most unexpected times.

Now I know he couldn’t help it. I’ve forgiven him for not understanding—I didn’t get it, either. I wish he would make amends with Asher for the reasons he originally joined their pack… but I hate that he’s punishing himself by denying his Alpha’s needs.

If anything, I should be the one suffering.

My body played tricks on us, not his.

Still, I would be lying if I said it didn’t hurt to remember how cruel he was. All the women he paraded around. His mortifying errands.

I’m just not sure his self-imposed exile is helping . I almost feel worse about our situation now than I did when we got here, apart from what happened in the nest the other day.

So maybe more of the physical stuff would help bridge some of these gaps?

He has a hard time communicating with others, but he always tries to talk to me. The night he showed up at Aunt Matilda’s… The time he stole me away on his bike… Swooping in at the hospital and taking on a huge project because of a mere suggestion I made.

He’s trying .

But this avoidance… not touching me, sleeping apart from us… There may be some twisted nobility in it, but it feels like it would be too easy for this to become permanent.

Easier for him , even. To keep avoiding. Punishing himself. Feeling like he has no one because he doesn’t deserve us.

Or maybe I’m just not enough to sufficiently tempt him.

The self-conscious thought dies when a sudden current of urgency snaps under my skin, drawing my spine straight.

Our alpha , my Omega interrupts, as if she’s been listening to my train of thought for a long time and waiting for an opening. We need to go to him .

Jasmine notes my sudden rigidity. Her tweezed brows arch. “Hmm. I know that look.”

Queen Selene frowns in consternation. “Yes, dearest, you’ve gone quite pale. Should I call for one of the doctors? Mon petite amour is in Lyledon at the opening of the new education center. I believe Sebastian is with him, but we can call?—”

It’s sweet of her to explain, but I know where the guys are at all times, these days. They take extra care to fill me in every morning, then send updates throughout the day. Never wanting me to feel alone, I suppose.

Bast is actually at a separate function by now. Something for a climate preservation philanthropy. He mumbled about it while choosing his tie, joking that he should probably wear green.

The memory of such a normal moment with one of my alphas settles my stomach a bit. See? I explain to my Omega. Everything is fine. They were totally normal this morning .

Ever since she got her strength back, the voice in my middle has developed a bit of an attitude. Or maybe she’s just learning from Jasmine. If my Omega had a face, it feels like she would be giving me the same c’mon, babe look I’m getting from Princess Ahmad.

I fly back through the events of the morning, remembering. I woke up to Asher’s mouth at my neck, making sure his hickey would live to see another day. Bast then jokingly snatched me off him and rolled on top of me.

They took turns “stealing” me from one another until Bast ended their scuffle by claiming me with his cock. I thought Ash would watch, but he wound up kissing his way down my body instead, then wrapped his tongue around my clit until I came all over his packmate. Three times.

All of that seemed… well, maybe not normal . But good. Not worrisome.

Asher fed me breakfast in his lap while I read him headlines from his three newspapers. I loved the way his eyebrows wrinkled behind his glasses while he listened, completely focused on my voice as he cut my veggie omelet into bite-sized pieces.

Then Bast and I got dressed, him joking and pausing to whine about how pretty I looked in today’s jade sundress, pouting that he’d have to wait far too long to remove it. At which point, Asher chimed in with that no-nonsense, pack-alpha, world-leader, literal-king energy of his, simply stating that Bast had had his turn and the prince himself would be the one to undress me tonight.

See? I say again. Nothing .

But my Omega sends me another image. One of their faces when they realized Dair wasn’t in his usual spot outside my door.

He’s been sleeping out there for a week—but at least I finally convinced him to use a chair. Or, rather, I had Duncan put one across from the double doors in the hope my stubborn alpha would give in when no one was watching.

Some mornings, he’s gone before any of us wake up. Others, he’s waiting with our food. Sometimes, he leaves to get ready and comes back down to do a quick check-in before he disappears for the day.

None of those things happened this morning, though. He was just… gone.

And then… my Omega prompts, showing me another mental picture. One of Asher and Bast both bent over their phones. The prince scowling. Bast wincing.

They were just about to race off for their days, so I didn’t press either of them about whatever diplomatic issue had gotten their attention. But there was a moment, right before he left, when Asher paused to cup my face in his hand.

He asked what my plans were for the day, confirmed that I wouldn’t be “wandering upstairs,” and left with Bast, the two of them arguing lowly while they clipped to the elevators.

It didn’t register as anything to be concerned about at the time. Clearly, it had nothing to do with me… and they’ve both been so attentive today. Checking on me constantly .

…maybe a little too much?

My eyes meet Jasmine’s through the dusty air, her earlier sentiment echoing through both me and my Omega.

Uh oh.