Chapter 3
Piper
My ears ring with the thunder of a few hundred hands colliding as my heel clicks against the last step.
The vibration of it travels up my ankle and into my bones.
I focus one step in front of the other so I don’t trip in front of a bunch of rich socialites, but it’s taking far more focus than it really ought to.
Nolan is at the bottom step waiting for me. His eyes study me closely and he holds out his arm for me to take. “Piper?” His voice is so low that only I can hear.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I tell him, right as the world does that fun watercolor swirl. My knees try to bend the wrong way. There’s a weird, high-frequency buzz in my ears, but I’m not about to let this crowd see me flop. I’ve survived worse.
At least, I think I have. Whatever happened on stage—whatever is still happening—is something I’ve never felt before.
Nolan’s face does that micro-expression thing I’m not supposed to notice—like he’s checking a list of plausible reasons his client might be about to die. The crowd’s still clapping, but it’s like “look at the shiny famous person” not “oh god, is she going to collapse?”
Nolan walks me over to the closest chair. “Sit.” It’s not really a suggestion.
I nod and allow him to guide me with one hand at the small of my back until I’m seated and the room is spinning slightly less.
My fingers still grip the microphone, even though the cordless isn’t live anymore.
I’m aware of the photographers tracking us.
A few of the event planning staff touch a finger to their earpiece like my condition has already reached the entire team via radio.
I can practically hear my manager Raelynn’s teeth grinding through the walls of the greenroom.
But I did the show. It went perfectly.
It’s this after-effect that’s not right.
Nolan crouches at my feet and continues his rapid-fire scan for any obvious injuries or ailments. His eyes are surgeon-steady when he touches two fingers to my wrist to clock my pulse. The brush of his fingers—small and gentle as it is—sends a shockwave of awareness through me.
On stage, I was assaulted by a wave of ocean and pine scent. Now it’s solely burning wood. And it’s coming straight from Nolan.
Nothing makes sense.
Everything makes too much sense, and it’s impossible.
I knew Nolan was an alpha. He knows I’m an omega. But I’ve never scented him before because of all the suppressants I’m on to keep both my heat and my overall omega instincts at bay. No one has time for omega anything when they’re taking the music world by storm.
Nolan lets go of my wrist but keeps one hand on my knee. “Talk to me. You’re burning up.”
I try to laugh, but my lungs are glued together with something sweet. This isn’t a fever starting, it’s a primal blush I can’t turn off. Alpha scents.
Three of them.
Nolan and… I can’t pinpoint the rest, not through the sea of my suppressants failing right before my eyes.
If Raelyn finds out…
She can’t find out. Nolan is the only one who knows and can ever know.
Nolan’s eyebrows pinch together in deep concern. His gaze keeps darting around the room. At some point, an event attendant comes over to offer water and Nolan actually growls at them after snatching the water bottle for me. “Tell me what you need.”
I reach for the water and greedily sip it. “A second. Maybe two.”
“This isn’t exhaustion,” he comments. He’d know. I almost tumbled off the stage during one of the international dates. The sun had been so hot, the humidity level so high… That was bad.
This is different, and growing more different still as these moments slip by.
Nolan’s burning wood scent is taking up much of my awareness, spreading like a wildfire through the air around me.
Before I realize it, I’m leaning in toward him, drawn closer by this settling into place between us almost like…
Like we’re a scent match.
My eyes open wide. That’s what this is. And judging by Nolan’s blown pupils and his hand flexing on my knee, I think he’s realizing the same.
But he’s not the only alpha I scent. Ocean and pine, and sandalwood. There are two more. All three alphas are all scent matches. And apparently putting us all in the same room has sheared away any efficacy my suppressants claimed to have.
Shit, shit, shit.
Nolan squeezes my knee. “Piper, we should move from view.”
I nod and stand. The room feels less dizzy now, but the revelations keep coming. My eyes lock on another’s gaze maybe thirty feet away. Alpha. Sandalwood scent. Tailored suit, security earpiece just like Nolan’s. He has black hair and dark brown eyes, and they’re focused directly on me.
A low growl rumbles deep in Nolan’s throat. I don’t miss its intent: a protective warning.
I move a step away toward the closest exit. Even ending up in a hallway would be better than staying here where the press could sneak around some speakers and start taking pictures of Piper Sumner leaning on her security guard for support. I can see the headlines now: Injury or Infatuation?
Nolan moves with me, but he still hasn’t said anything. If I can scent him as an alpha, can he now scent me as an omega? The regimen of suppressants was supposed to hide my scent, too.
“Nolan, can you—?”
“Yes,” he cuts me off. “And if I can, they can. So let’s move.”
But we’re too late. Camera flashes begin and I can hear Raelynn’s voice over the din.
I force myself to stand tall. Nolan grabs for my arm to keep us moving toward the exit but there’s no point.
The press will simply follow us to our car, and I’m not sure me seen retreating from this rather royal event will be a good look no matter the reasons.
I inhale deep and anchor myself in the moment. My back straightens until my posture is perfect, and I pose for a few press photos. Then Raelynn swoops in and considers the state of me. With a flick of her wrist, the press retreats, and then it’s just me, her, and Nolan.
“Your performance was spot-on. I’m impressed by the way you’ve updated those songs for tonight.” Her voice is tuned to public-press-mode, but her worried gaze says something else entirely. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say a little too quickly. “Nerves, that’s all. This is a lot.”
Even Raelynn doesn’t believe me, but without the knowledge I’m an omega scenting alphas for the first time in forever, she’ll never understand what’s actually going on. She’s probably thinking what a loser I am that I can sell out stadiums but not play a royal gala without issues.
“It is,” Raelynn admits. “But I need you to do one more thing tonight if you’re up for it, then you can rest if you need to.”
If you need to. I don’t think Raelynn meant it the way my brain took that, but fuck.
I hate the way she must think I’m incapable right now. This is exactly why I started taking suppressants when my career took off. I don’t have time for this, or the risk of letting it make me somehow inferior.
“What is it?” I ask her.
Raelynn nods to the left where the king and queen stand with their son, the prince. The other alpha from before hangs like a shadow off to the left of the prince—his bodyguard.
“The royal family would like to meet you and take private photo,” Raelynn says. “That’s all.”
The other alpha’s scent hits me again, but this time it’s like slamming into a physical wall. Nolan shifts at my side. Their scents mingle together: sandalwood and burning wood. And then—
The prince. It’s the fucking prince. He’s the third alpha. His ocean and pine scent wafts across the distance between us like it’ll reel me in to his side. But Raelynn’s doing that for him as she ushers me toward the royal family.
Nolan falls in behind us, expression thunderous. He can’t exactly veto a royal meet-and-greet, but he’s seething. The only thing more dangerous than an overprotective bodyguard is an overprotective bodyguard who’s also one of my scent-matched alphas.
I’m vaguely aware of the king and queen waving as I approach.
Of my knees bending in a curtsey as appropriate, followed by the queen clasping my hands and telling me how wonderful my music is.
But I’m entirely focused on how her son smells like the most beautiful beach I’ve ever been to, and how I want to crawl into his arms as if he’s a bed of warm sand.
Prince Kellen is handsome. He stands much taller than me—all of these scent-matched alphas do—but his hair is almost the same shade of dark blond as my natural color, underneath the dye.
His blue eyes track me with large pupils as I settle in to pose for the press photos.
I manage to mumble out a “Hi” to him and then smile for the camera before the closeness of all three alphas and especially Kellen sends my knees wavering.
I tilt as the room spins again. Out of the corner of my eye I see Nolan move to intercept, but instead of his warm hands, it’s Kellen who steadies me with a hand on each arm.
“Easy, there,” Kellen says. “Are you unwell, Piper?”
I manage to smile up at him. “No, I’m fine.”
“We can call for a doctor—Mother?”
I don’t hear his mother’s response. Kellen’s touch feels infinite on my skin, like his hands are already familiar. The look his bodyguard is giving me over Kellen’s shoulder is intense enough to melt me, and Nolan… Nolan’s frozen on the spot.
Cameras flash. Whispers erupt while Kellen continues to hold my hand until his father clears his throat. Kellen drops his hands from me like I’m hot coal and I inhale deeply. My lungs refill but I’m still unsteady.
“Are they dating?”
“Ohmygod, did you see that?”
“Prince Kellen and Piper Sumner, who would’ve thought?”
Those in attendance of this gala don’t even pretend to hide their loud accusations.
“Out. Now,” Raelynn says. She’s flanked by the royal family’s attendants who usher all four of us along. Nolan and Prince Kellen’s bodyguard follow, and despite lightheadedness taking over, I’m able to finally walk out of this room.
But the damage has already been done. The press has seen what they want to see. And as I’m not actually sick, I may have to explain.
If I’m outed as an omega my career is over.
This is all I think about as Raelynn and Nolan escort me from the gala, leaving two of my scent-matched alphas behind.