Episode 14 If the Slipper Fits #2
That doesn’t stop me from saying, softly, “I see you.”
His smile is a soft, sweet thing as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with one hand, while the other presses my palm tighter to his chest. “I know.” His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as his gaze roams over my face.
We stand like that for a long time… long enough that the sounds of the room start to filter back to me. The derisive giggles of the omegas. The disapproving mutters of the crew. And still we don’t look away from each other.
“Ask me,” Piers urges, grip tightening. “Please, little bird.”
I don’t know why I’m so hesitant. Don’t know why if he gives me an answer different from my own, it might gut me. But the hesitation—the fear—is there.
When I don’t say anything, Piers prompts, “Love or duty, Florence. Ask me.”
“Florence,” a sharp voice calls. One I recognize. Lulu.
At the same time, Forsythe moves a little closer to us. “Piers?”
I shake my head. I don’t want to know. I want to keep living in this fantasy world I’ve apparently created where maybe, just maybe this beta and I are compatible. Where maybe his pack would choose me too.
He sighs, leans forward again until a lock of his hair brushes my forehead. “Love, sunshine,” he murmurs. “Always love. Duty matters, but love is what makes duty worth doing.”
“Miss Karlin, a word?” Lulu is closer now. And so is Forsythe, so close in fact that I can practically feel his heat radiating into me.
“We’re heading to the room to get ready,” the prince says, addressing Piers. We both look up at him, still standing so close, still holding on to one another.
“And that concerns me because…” Piers pushes back.
I blink up at him in surprise. Not expecting that in the least, neither is Forsythe it seems, not if the way his brown eyes flash and his glower deepens is any sign.
“Now, Piers.” There's an edge of a bark there. The slightest tinge of command in his tone. Just enough that it makes Piers stiffen and me right along with him. Forsythe sees it and somewhat reluctantly adds, “please.”
The beta’s jaw tightens and so do his fingers on mine, and then he sighs, turning his attention to me. “I’ll talk to you later?”
I give him a small smile even though inside I’m seething. “Of course.”
His thumb strokes my skin and then he’s pulling away from me without another word to the alpha in our midst. Forsythe doesn’t follow him. Instead he moves into the space Piers vacated, staring me down like his a second away from eviscerating me… or kissing me. I can’t really tell.
My heart thunders in my chest as I glare up at him, even though every instinct in me is telling me submit, submit, submit. Tilt your head, show your neck, and submit.
“Piers mentioned you already know how this is going to go. Is that right, Miss Karlin?” I swallow and flick my eyes over to the beta’s retreating back. “No,” the prince growls. “Keep your eyes on me. Is that right?”
I don’t bother to try to keep from scowling at him. “Yes. I was informed almost as soon as I got here that the royal family has declared I am unfit to be your omega and so I shouldn’t get my hopes up.”
His jaw ticks under his neat beard. I wonder how often he needs to trim it. I wonder if he does it himself or if he has someone who does it for him…a stylist or maybe Piers.
“If you are aware of how this ends, then why are you getting close to my beta?”
It's a good question. A valid one too. If I already know that I’m not going to be their pack, then why bother? Why get emotionally invested in any of them if we all know how this is going to end?
I glance at the door Piers disappeared through. “Because he needs someone to be close to,” I mutter.
He rears back, almost like I hit him, or just really surprised him, with my answer. “You don’t think we—his pack—are close enough?”
I really shouldn’t say anything, I know this. I really should just bite my tongue and pat his head and tell him he’s doing a great job with his pack. Not my circus, not my monkeys. But… I just can’t.
“No. I don’t think you are. Not with…” I try to find a kind way to say it, but eventually give up tossing my hands in the air. “Not with how you keep literal distance from him, constantly. He’s always alone, Forsythe! Always separate. How is that being close?”
His jaw ticks. “I know you don’t understand pack bonds, because you don’t have one-” okay, ouch “-but we don’t need to be physically close in order to be enough for him. We have a connection in our souls and it doesn’t get any closer than that.”
I stare up at him, shocked that he just said that. Honestly. Is he stupid? He doesn’t come across as unintelligent, but this is just… Wow.
“He’s too good for you.” The words explode out of me in a frustrated huff.
“Far, far too good for you. And you don’t even fucking see it!
You take him for granted, all of you. And I just-” I choke on frustrated tears.
“I cannot just stand by and let him be miserable because of your duty. He deserves to be a part of this.”
“He is a part of this,” he growls out through gritted teeth. “He’s here, isn’t he?”
As if his proximity to the proceedings were enough.
Oh, this motherfucker, my omega seethes in my gut.
My spine straightens. My shoulders square. My chin tips up. I am ready to go to battle with the prince of Bravonne over this. Over his beta.
Forsythe watches me square up to him and something ignites in his eyes. Like he can’t believe I would dare to contradict him, that I would fight him on… probably anything. He must be used to people just rolling over and showing their bellies, but I have literally nothing to lose.
I know they won’t be my pack and with that knowledge comes a certain amount of freedom. I don’t have to try to impress them. I don’t have to bow and scrape and pretend to be something I’m not.
Not that I would anyway. I want a pack to choose me for me, not because of an image I present.
And that is why I’m about to tear into this alpha in front of me.
Or at least I intend to, but then his dominance swells.
Literally. I can feel it in the air and it presses into me, into my skin.
I realize my mistake too late. He’s an alpha and I’m an omega.
He’s going to bark at me. Force a command on me that I will have no choice to obey, just like Frederick Bell did.
Memories assault me, the sharp sting of his bark, how I couldn’t move or scream or cry. How I could do nothing but sit on the edge of Haven’s hospital bed while he kidnapped her. And later, how I couldn’t save myself because he made it impossible.
I whine. A soft strangled thing, that if I weren’t drowning in horrific memories might embarrass me.
Let him fucking try, my omega snarls, fiercely, even as some part of me shrivels up. He needs to know, she presses. He needs to see how perfect Piers is.
She’s right, and so even if he barks me into submission, I will find a way to make this better for the beta. I brace for an alpha command, readying to fight it with everything I have, to not let him have that power over me.
But it… never comes.
The dominance that had been pressing on me is gone. And my head is tilted to the side. My neck exposed in a clear sign of submission. When did that happen? Forsythe is staring down at me, his expression… remorseful? Guilty? Hungry?
I can’t read him, dammit.
“Ren,” he says softly. “Cor mea.”
I know in that moment that he’s seen too much. I gave away one of my secrets without ever saying a word.
His hand drifts toward my face like he might cup my chin, but I give a tight shake of my head, knowing I’ll break if he touches me. And no one wants to see that, least of all him.
“Florence!” Lulu’s voice snaps through the air, cutting the tension between us. A reminder of where we are, of who we are. He is a prince and I am a nobody.
And if any of this goes into the show, it will undoubtedly paint me as a halfway feral omega with no etiquette and zero chill.
The producer appears at my elbow, expression hard. “The prince needs to get ready for his date.” She tries to soften her expression as she looks at Forsythe. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but we are running short on time.”
His honey eyes have cooled considerably by the time he drags them away from me and over to her. “Of course. If you would be so kind as to give me and Miss Karlin a moment to finish our conversation?”
He poses it as a question, but I can tell it's not. So can Lulu. But what is she going to do? Deny him? He’s a prince for chrissakes.
“Two minutes,” she says before turning away.
“Miss Powell?” Forsythe stops her. When she turns back to face us his dominance is back, pressing into her, but somehow avoiding me. “None of this is to air on the show, understood?”
Lulu’s gaze flicks to me and then back to him. “We’re aware of the stipulations regarding any footage containing Piers and any conversations that pertain to his being a member of your pack.”
I frown. They’re cutting him out of the show entirely? Not even letting him be in it as a background cast member? Someone to bounce ideas off of? Is he not allowed in the room during their deliberation on who to send home?
What.
The.
Fuck?
Forsythe sighs when he sees my expression. “I promise you, Florence, it's for the best.”
I want to argue with him, but it's not my place. And I’m feeling brittle, vulnerable at the moment. I don’t want to invite more of that, so I just nod. “Not really my place to say anything anyway is it?”
“That wasn’t going to stop you a moment ago.” Why does he sound disappointed about that? Like he wanted to see me go into a full omega rage, to argue with him about the way he treats his pack members. Maybe he… wanted to see what it's like to have someone stand up to him.
A novelty of sorts.
But if that were the case, surely he wouldn’t have nearly barked at me.
The memory sends a sizzle of resolve down my spine.
“I’d be happy to pick up where we left off, Your Highness.”