Episode 19 She Bends, They Break
Grieves
When Florence comes marching into her house early the next morning, determination clear in her stance, something wakes up inside me. This is my mate. Fierce. Determined. Strong. Bloody beautiful.
Watching her call out Forsythe, poking holes in his martyrdom and his plan for our future, I’m not sure I’ve ever been prouder. She said everything I’ve been too terrified to say to him, called him a coward for following his duty. She was right of course.
To an extent.
But I’m also fairly certain Sythe has no clue how to choose anything but his duty. He’s been doing it for so long. Ever since we formed our pack, he’s been scrambling to make it up to his grandmother by being her perfect little soldier.
Makes me feel like shit if I’m honest.
But now here’s Florence storming into the small space we’ve been sleeping in like a whirlwind, eyes bright and hands fisted, wearing one of my t-shirts because she somewhat sheepishly admitted she sleeps better with our scent in her nostrils.
We all look up at her, bleary eyed since the sun isn’t even poking over the horizon.
“I’ll go to Bravonne with you,” she says in a rush, like if she doesn’t say the words fast enough she won’t get them out at all.
“Really?” Forsythe scrambles to his feet, likely intending to sweep her into his arms and murmur sweet nothings in her ear, but Ren holds out a hand to stall him. They haven’t talked since Sythe stormed out and I can’t really blame her for needing the distance.
“I’m not agreeing to anything but that. Just going with you.
” Her eyes flick to Piers, then scan over the rest of us.
“I don’t want to be the reason your pack breaks.
I don’t want Piers to stay here while the rest of you go.
I want to give you all time to… try to figure it out, I guess.
” She looks back at our prime. “You said you need to go back, so I’ll come with you.
But this doesn’t mean I’m going to be your mistress or let you help me through my heat or-or anything.
” She jabs a finger at our beta. “I’m doing it for him. ”
“And for you, a little bit, right, Pixie?” Court asks anxiously. “You feel better when we’re near you and you want to keep feeling that way.”
Ren’s brow furrows. “Yeah, I guess. It’ll just make it harder when-”
“No,” I growl out not wanting to hear her say again that we’re going to leave her, hurt her. “No. Never again, bubbles. I promise you.”
Thayer nods. “We’ll take this at your pace, killer, but you have to know that none of us are going to leave you.”
My omega blows out a breath, shoulders sagging.
“So maybe we just have a platonic relationship? No kissing or touching or any of that.” Her fingers rub against her chest. “It confuses my omega, and until you’re ready to commit to me-” All of us open our mouths to reassure her that we are committed to her, but she doesn’t give us the option.
“And only me, I can’t allow things to get physical. Not like before.”
We all wince, even Piers, though he manages a sharp nod. “Done. I am absolutely one hundred percent committed to you.”
She gives him her sweet smile. One that makes me jealous as hell. It’s been so long since she’s smiled at me like that. “I know you think that, but you’re committed to them too. And if they decide to bond Isadora, you’ll have to go along with it.”
“That’s never gonna happen,” I tell her, pushing to my feet and advancing on her, needing to be close to her while I make this promise.
“Ever, bubbles. I can promise I’ll never bond any omega but you.
I don’t want any omega but you. Even if Forsythe breaks our pack bond and it breaks the scent match too, I’ll still only want you.
” I run a knuckle down her soft cheek, pinch her chin to keep her eyes on me.
“There will never be another omega for me. For any of us.”
She frowns and shakes her head. “You say that but-”
“No, killer,” Thayer says, coming over to join me.
“No ‘buts’. I’ve never wanted anything or anyone the way I want you.
Finding you, spending the last month without you, seeing what life is like when you’re not a part of it?
Fucking hell. Absolute bloody nightmare.
We were falling apart without you, love. ”
“There’s no way we’re going back to that,” Court adds, circling around behind her, nuzzling into her hair like he can’t help himself.
“I know it’s hard to believe, Pixie, given how we treated you before, but we’re committed to this, to you.
We want to figure out how to move forward with you as our omega. ”
Piers joins us as Court finishes, lacing his fingers through hers. And then it’s the five of us standing together with Forsythe on the other side of the room. Florence leans to one side to look around me at our prime, like she’s waiting for him to declare his commitment too.
But it doesn’t come.
Her scent, which had been sweet and mouthwatering, turns sour and bitter with disappointment.
She carefully disentangles herself from all of us, stepping out from between our bodies and shuffling back toward the door.
All that fierce fire she’d come in with, smothered under Forsythe’s refusal to pick her.
In her mind if our prime doesn’t want her, she won’t be able to have the rest of us either.
She pauses at the door and looks over her shoulder. “Let me know when you want to leave, I’ll be ready.” And then she slips away into the early morning light.
We watch her go, listening to the sound of her bare feet padding across the pool deck, the click of the door that tells us she made it back inside safely. And then we all turn to look at Forsythe.
He rubs a hand over his eyes, likely trying to wake up more fully, to plan. “We should leave this afternoon. We’ve been gone too long.”
Normally a statement like that would result in a flurry of movement.
I would check in with our guards, make sure they know where to be and when.
Piers would pull up our schedule and make sure what the prince wants is possible.
Thayer or Court would reach out to our pilot and flight crew, to have them get the plane and flight path ready.
The other would begin arranging lodging for Florence in Durvain.
But not one of us moves.
Forsythe drops his hand. “This is a good thing.” I can’t tell if he’s trying to convince us or himself. “It’s progress. She’ll come around. See reason. We’ll be able to take care of her and do our duty-”
“Duty?” The word spits out of me on a snarl. “The only duty I’m interested in is the one to my mate. She is my duty. Nothing else fucking matters. How do you not see that?”
Even now, when we’ve hurt her so badly, she’s bending herself into a shape to fit what we need. Not fully, thank god. If she just gave up and agreed to be our mistress, I’m not sure I would ever forgive myself, I’m not sure I’d be strong enough to resist.
Having Florence in any capacity is a dream.
But I know in time, she would resent us. Resent the time we would have to spend with Isadora, just as Isadora would resent Florence. Though I don’t give a shit about that.
I meant what I said earlier, I’m committed to Florence. No other omega will mean anything to me, not like she does. And I sure as hell am not going to disrespect her by even pretending to choose another omega over her.
When she asked us to put ourselves in her place, to imagine her being paraded around on the arms of another pack, having her only for her heats and nothing else?
That changed fucking everything for me. I saw exactly what we were asking of her.
Even if she wasn’t sick with RMD, I wouldn’t want that for her.
What kind of bloody arseholes are we to even consider it?
She’s ours. Our mate. Our omega.
She deserves to have the world know it.
She deserves to have us proudly declare it.
Not keep her hidden away.
“I know,” Forsythe says, sounding resigned. “I know. She’s important. She needs to be taken care of, and we need to be the ones to do it.”
“Progress,” Court whispers, pumping a fist into the air in premature celebration.
“We just need to figure out how we do that and keep my grandmother happy.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I nearly shout. “She shouldn’t even be a factor in this.”
Forsythe’s dominance swells in response to my own, filling the room. “She’s always going to be a factor in my life, Grieves. This has always been the case.”
“Even after she orchestrated an attack on your omega?” Thayer asks quietly, his voice level. “You do remember that, yeah? That she told Isadora to take Florence out of the competition by crippling her? This is the woman you want to keep happy?”
Forsythe’s mouth tightens even further until he looks like he sucked on a lemon. “It’s not about what I want. It never has been,” he says sounding appropriately regal about it. “It’s about what’s good for the country.”
“Ah, yes, the country with omegas who are about to have most of their autonomy stripped away,” Court mutters. “Not to mention packs. Have you read what will happen to people who go through unsanctioned bondings?”
I arch my brows at that. In general, I try to stay out of the political side of things. My focus is my pack, and their safety. I don’t have the head for court intrigues and keeping such and such minister happy so he’ll vote the way we want when the time comes.
“Jail time,” Court says, before anyone else can guess.
“Technically, it’s a hefty fine and if you can’t pay, then you get jail time.” Forsythe pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Well, technically the fine is so ‘hefty’ that most packs won’t be able to pay it, not per person, which means your grandmother is sentencing countless people to jail for following their instincts,” Thayer adds.
“It’s never going to be enacted,” our prime says through gritted teeth. “The people are protesting enough, she’ll have to roll it back.”