Episode 17 Cursed with a Kiss
To say that I’m embarrassed about my reaction to today’s challenge in a gross understatement. In truth, I’m mortified.
Again.
That happens a lot on this goddamn show.
No one else had a panic attack like I did. No one else was even worried about the events of the day. Except maybe Petal and Tristan, but that was only because my panic leaked into my scent and bled onto them. But even then, they were able to keep their calm.
I on the other hand completely broke down.
I cringe at the memory. The whining, the tears, the way I couldn’t get a full breath.
The horror makes me dig deeper into the mound of blankets I have over myself. Thank god my cabana has AC that lets me make it frigid in here, because the number of blankets and pillows my omega needs to soothe herself tonight is obscene.
The words of the other cast members, of the crew, ring in my ears. Sidelong glances and glares, pitying looks that were thrown my way during the rejection ceremony this evening. The surprise when I wasn’t removed from the show—mine and everyone else’s.
Too emotional, even for an omega.
Not levelheaded enough to be a princess.
Fantastic actress.
Manipulative.
Feral.
Fake.
All bullshit I know shouldn’t bother me but does.
Mostly because it's just proving again and again how bad of a fit I am for the Ashbourne Pack. The pack that I am rapidly coming to care about. Even though I know I shouldn’t let that happen. I certainly didn’t expect it to.
I came here thinking I’d have a safe environment to ease into being around alphas again, that I’d somehow cure myself of my fear of an alpha’s dominance. It's worked to some extent.
Maybe a little too well.
I almost think I could tolerate a bark from them—maybe. On a good day. If I trusted it was for safety. Or maybe even if it wasn’t for safety.
I don’t know if my newfound trust will extend to other alphas though. I doubt it will.
Still, I suppose it's good to know I can get over the fear. When I get home I’ll have to try again. Go to a scent clinic like Haven suggested, find a pack that smells like mine, and then have the entire Calloway pack hover until I feel comfortable with them.
That would probably work.
So why does my omega feel so freaking sullen about that prospect?
Why do I?
Because you always hoped you’d meet your pack naturally. That they’d see you on the street and just know you’re their omega, that they would do anything to make you theirs.
I’m a freaking romantic at heart, I acknowledge to myself. I want the fairytale.
I’ve always known that about myself.
It's half of the reason I didn’t match with any of the packs while I was at the academy… Well a quarter at least. None of them hit the way I believed my pack would.
It's a shame that the only pack that has, is the Royal Ashbourne pack. A pack that will never be mine.
A whine works its way out of my chest as I burrow even further into my pillows, nestling my head under a mound of them.
What I could really use is my phone, so I could call Haven or my mom and have them talk me down from the lingering panic that I can’t seem to shake. Or maybe my therapist would be better, since she’s, you know, qualified to help me with it.
I wonder if they’d let me if I told them it's a mental health emergency.
Anyone who saw me today would believe it.
Unless they think I was acting.
I almost wish I was.
It would be easier if that was the case. If I hadn’t felt such unimaginable fear and panic in front of fifteen cameras and thirty people and the freaking royal pack.
Though… their response was perfect, if I’m honest.
Well, Piers, Courtland and Thayer’s was.
Forsythe and Grieves… I know they had to play their part first. Know that they have certain things they’re required to do because of the queen and their station.
Anyone even halfway paying attention can see the way they're favoring Isadora, an omega they’ve known for years and still haven’t claimed yet.
Is anyone going to believe it took a reality show for them to ‘realize’ she’s their mate? On camera? That they haven’t scented her before?
It's so clearly rigged that it's laughable.
And yet. The three of them came to me, came to get me out. To free me and soothe me. Court threatened one of the producers to get the code to my lock, before that I heard Thayer and Piers tearing at my cage trying to take it apart with their bare hands.
They would have done that with any other omega in distress, I tell myself. Any alpha would.
Well, not any alpha, but most. The good ones would.
Still if it had been Petal that had a complete breakdown, they would have done the same. It's their instinct, their need to protect and care for any omega in their vicinity.
Forsythe made my position here very clear when he asked me to stay away from Piers, when he said he doesn’t want to see his beta’s heart break. I think that extends to the rest of the pack, too. To himself as well. He’s trying to do what’s best for everyone, and I had to make it harder today.
God, I should just go home, shouldn’t I?
I’m not going to be able to come back from this.
The embarrassment is… immense.
And now I can’t stop thinking about Court’s arms around me cradling me close to his chest. The soft way Thayer said killer, how he begged me to breathe so he could calm his alpha.
The way Piers kept me tucked into his side, plying me with water and snacks, ensuring I had everything I needed to come down from my attack, until I fell asleep propped up on his shoulder, crashing from the adrenaline.
God, the way they took care of me, made me feel safe and secure. Even Grieves and Forsythe, once they’d done their duty and pulled Isadora out had come to check on me, been reluctant to leave my side to help the other omegas.
Don’t read anything into it, Ren.
Don’t you dare.
Too bad it's too late.
With a sigh I roll onto my back and push the blankets off my face and shoulders, sucking in a breath of AC chilled air. Strands of hair stick to my sweaty face and I brush them away, staring hard at the ceiling.
Yeah, I should go home.
Just bow out now.
Forsythe was right to worry about the state of my heart.
I know I’m not their omega. It's been hammered into me from the moment I arrived, but with every interaction with the Ashbourne pack, I can feel them working their way under my skin, into my heart. And even though I’m not in love with them…
I can tell it’s going to hurt when they do eventually send me home. Badly.
Fuck. I need to talk to Haven.
A knock on the door has me glaring at it.
I swear if that’s production to drag me to another challenge, I’m going to punch whoever it is in the nuts or the tit. But it can’t be a challenge. We haven’t even gone through the elimination ceremony from the most recent one.
So if it is production it's either to drag me to a surprise elimination ceremony or it's to try to get me to spill about what made me panic today. Neither of which I’m in the mood for. At all.
When the knock comes a second time, I throw off the rest of my blankets with a huff and stomp over to the door, a scowl on my face, and a harsh word on the tip of my tongue.
I’m fully ready to tell whoever it is that I’m unavailable until tomorrow and to go fuck themselves. Only to stall out with a rather attractive, “uuungg,” falling from my lips.
Prince Forsythe Ashbourne is standing on the other side of the door.
I pause midway through opening it, not fully trusting what I’m seeing.
But… here he is. Looking appropriately princely and solemn. His warm brown gaze flaring with some emotion that I can't name as he takes me in, scanning from the top of my head down to my bare toes, before he drags his gaze back to my swollen eyes and my red nose.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt before he can say anything, embarrassment making my face flare even brighter pink.
Then I’m hurrying on, not giving him a chance to answer.
“I’m sorry about earlier. It- it wasn’t my intention to…
need Piers like that. I never would have…
” I scrub a hand down my face, like that might help me form a coherent thought and express it to the prince.
“I know you told me to stay away from him just last night, and I really did have every intention of doing that. Today was… difficult, but I can’t see that happening again. So I’ll do better, I promise, your-”
His finger presses into my mouth, cutting my apology off, making my heart stutter in my chest with the soft touch. “Do not apologize for today, Florence.”
My brow wrinkles, but his finger is still on my lips so I don’t say anything, I can’t.
“In fact, I should be the one apologizing to you. If I had any idea of how… traumatizing today would be on you.” A tick of his jaw. “On any of the omegas, I would have requested that they change the challenge.”
I believe him.
But I also know everything about this show thanks to Haven, so I shake my head and his hand falls away from my face. “The alpha care challenge is one of the most anticipated challenges of the show. I knew it was coming, I just… wasn’t prepared for it to be… that.”
‘That’ being something so fucking close to the root of all my trauma. Bound to a chair, unable to move. Granted, Haven’s father had used his bark to keep me in place, but the similarities were there, and I was thrown right back to the worst moment of my life.
Normally the alpha care challenge is something simple, like the omega’s being scattered in a field, pretending they’ve been injured, or in a pool pretending to drown while wearing life jackets. Things I would have been able to handle.
But this? It's like the producers somehow figured out my own personal version of hell and decided that's what they would do.
I offer Forsythe a shaky smile. “It won’t happen again.” I repeat it for him, and for me, because we both need the reassurance.