Once Upon A Pack (Royalverse #1)

Chapter 52

fifty-two

Where the hell is our mate?

For the first time in a month, I woke up without a soft, blonde omega tucked into my side. I checked the bathroom, our balcony, and her sitting room before I finally gave up and called in the bloodhound—a.k.a. Dair.

I’ve never seen the fucker get dressed so fast.

“Did either of you hear her get out of bed?” he demands, turning to Asher as the prince hastily shrugs on today’s suit jacket. Black. Fitting for the way the sky has darkened.

I choose gray, myself. Dair doesn’t bother with more than a white button-down and last night’s suit pants before shoving his feet into matching loafers. He stomps to the suite’s door and looks back at us like, you numb nuts coming?

With a huff, I follow him out. Asher falls into step behind, making calls to the palace security detail and asking who last had their eyes on our princess. When he abruptly stops at the fork between two perpendicular hallways, my heart drops to my shoes.

Oh shit.

“She left.”

The words dangle over our heads. A cleaver, slipping lower on every half-breath. Finally, Dair repeats. “Left?”

Asher scowls at his phone screen. “According to the front gate, she walked out early this morning and got in a cab.”

My esophagus tangles, blocking my swallow. “In a cab ? As in, she drove off without any security?”

We all glance at one another—and then we’re running. Within seconds, we burst into the morning gloom, barreling into a carport shrouded by cool mist. Asher begins barking orders, demanding a car, a security detail, the latest video footage.

Five steps ahead of everyone else, logically, as always. I’m still trying to remember how to fucking breathe .

Dair looks closer to my mindset than the prince’s. But as moments slip past with valets and security buzzing around us, trying to follow impromptu orders using protocols designed for days of notice, the duke cracks.

“Fuck this,” he growls. “I’m taking my bike.”

He starts to charge toward the garage, but I shout after him, “Your bike ? You don’t even know where she is!”

“She only has one place to go,” he yells back, picking up speed.

Maytown .

“On it,” Asher mutters, already typing.

“Gracie,” I remind him. “And her aunt.”

He nods fervently, jabbing his thumbs at his screen faster. “Yes. Good.”

Dair’s motorcycle rips out of the garage, the engine tearing the cloudy morning in two. I watch him disappear, the disquiet in my middle expanding.

If we don’t find our girl—or, worse, if she’s decided she isn’t our girl—I’m not sure Dair will come back.

A graceful figure approaches through the fog, dressed in riding gear. I recognize Jasmine when she tosses her long black braid from one shoulder to the other. Thick white-chocolate sweetness smothers the air. My teeth sting like they’ve developed spontaneous cavities.

Ugh, God. No .

The princess notes my grimace with a smirk, pausing between Asher and me. Her dark eyes flick from me to the prince, then back again. She throws her hands on her hips, pointed features snapping into a mighty scowl.

“ Now what?”

I open my mouth to reply, but she points a sharpened fingernail in my face, halting me. “You better not have fucked this up, blondie. Do you have any idea how perfect that woman is for you sorry lot?”

Asher answers before I can, pocketing his phone and casting a murderous look at the nearest valet before meeting her eyes, drawing into the posture of a prince. “We’re aware . Now, if you’ll excuse us?—”

“No,” Jasmine scoffs. “I will not excuse you. What’s going on? Where is Ivy?”

Telling silence sweeps between us. Jasmine staggers back a step, her eyes bulging. “Are you fucking kidding me? Did you seriously lose her?”

I press my hand over my stomach, wishing I could reach in and stop its restless churning. “So it would seem.”

Jasmine blinks, then fixes each of us with our very own glares. “Unbelievable!” she explodes, waving her hands over her head. “I swear to God, I did everything but hog-tie the girl and have her wheeled into your suite on a room-service cart! How the hell did you manage to screw this up? I couldn’t have made it any simpler !”

Wait.

What?

Asher’s jaw flexes, his alpha energy climbing to a fever pitch. To her credit, Jasmine doesn’t flinch as he stares her down, demanding, “What are you talking about, Princess Ahmad?”

Our car pulls up behind her, but Jasmine isn’t deterred. She slaps her thighs with both hands, expression exasperated. “You guys seriously never wondered why the king suddenly decided that staff would be invited to your masquerade ball? Has he ever done anything like that before?!”

Another unsettling beat of quiet betrays our reply. The princess rolls her eyes. “And the dresses ‘donated by an anonymous royal’? Did you look into that ?”

I did think it was odd , when I heard about it, but now…

“I donated my dresses specifically to make sure Ivy would have one! I asked the king to include the staff and implied it was an Amizi custom. And who do you think has been explaining all this omega nonsense to the poor girl?!”

Another strange decision that never made sense to me. I wondered why Jasmine chose to stay here and help Ivy after essentially being rejected by us. Not that she ever seemed all that interested in our courtship in the first place. Her father clearly forced her make an effort with us… and she mostly did…

Until I had that picnic with her.

The day I happened upon Ivy in the garden.

“You saw us,” I realize. “That day.”

Jasmine huffs out a deep sigh, as if exhausted by my general existence. “ Yes ,” she snaps. “And it was painfully obvious to anyone with eyes that she was clearly your mate . Between that and the way you avoided so much as glancing at her.” She points at Asher, rolling her eyes again.

“When I asked around and found out she was supposedly a beta, I didn’t buy it for a second. I figured her Omega just needed an opportunity to come around. Which is why I gave her friend a dress that absolutely reeked of your pack. The one I’d worn the first night we met, when each of you had to dance with me.”

Oh God, she’s right. I didn’t recognize the gown when our omega wore it because—well, Ivy dazzled me. Blinded me to literally anyone that wasn’t her . Exactly as Jasmine intended.

Asher’s brows are halfway to his hairline as I sputter, “So—she—you?—”

Jasmine fists her hands on her hips. “I’m basically your Fairy Frickin’ Godmother!”

Holy shit.

She really is.

We should probably thank her, but before we can gather the pieces of our skulls, she harrumphs and waves at the idling Maybach. “Well? What are you waiting for? I’m fresh out of wishes to grant, and you assholes don’t have a pumpkin.”