Chapter 5
Piper
I’m awake two hours before my alarm, which means it’s already a bad day.
Actually, that’s generous. Awake implies I slept. What I actually did was roll around on these thousand-thread-count hotel sheets and blast the AC down to Arctic Tundra while still hallucinating the lingering scent of ocean, sandalwood, and—strongest of all—burning wood.
Burning wood because Nolan is maybe thirty feet away with nothing but a door between us.
Fucking suppressants. How simply meeting and being in the same room with three scent-matched alphas breaks through every single pill I’ve taken daily for years is something that should be studied.
I stick a pair of gel patches under my eyes and squint at myself in the mirror above the minibar in the suite’s bedroom.
You would think being a moderately successful pop star would mean developing a higher tolerance for chaos, but no—my tolerance is at absolute zero.
The undereye patches promise “instant radiance” but unless radiance is code for “looks like a freshly exhumed raccoon,” I’m going to need backup.
I consider a shower, but the last time I showered I got stuck in a fifteen-minute loop of replaying the gala.
Not the part where I sang flawlessly (obviously) but the part where I lost my damn mind, got rescued by a literal prince, and then started a scent-matching fever dream with not one, but two alphas, and possibly a third if we’re counting Nolan, which I am not.
I’m not.
I absolutely fucking am. How could I not count Nolan when I’ve had feelings of some sort for him since he was hired? And sure, it started off as Nolan simply being handsome and protective, but it’s transformed over the years and now…
Now I can’t stop thinking about kissing his chin again.
I don’t have anyone to talk to about this.
It’s the price you pay for estranging yourself from your parents at sixteen and then going viral for an acoustic folk cover of a pop song.
The only friends—if I can call them that loosely—who might give useful advice are asleep on the other side of the world and presumably not wrestling with instinctual omega hell.
Which leaves me with exactly one person in my corner: Nolan. My bodyguard and, as of last night, secret co-star in this involuntary scent match sitcom.
I make myself look presentable and then open the bedroom door.
Nolan’s sitting on the other side of the suite’s living area.
He’s reading something, probably the day’s security brief, on his phone.
But I know for a fact that he’s also watching me in the reflection of the window because his sight level is just higher than the phone screen.
I grab a cup of expresso from the suite’s machine and then sit in the corner of the couch. Nolan normally doesn’t talk much to me until I’ve had my morning caffeine fix, so his silence isn’t abnormal. But by the time I finish this cup I can’t take it anymore. I move to get up and Nolan does so too.
He nods toward the expresso machine. “Do you want another?”
I sit back down. “N-No, thanks.”
Why am I making this so weird?
Probably because Nolan didn’t exactly kiss me back last night. Or at all. Because he’s trying to reel himself in when I think the universe just gave us the permission I was worried we’d never have.
“Are you sure?” His brown eyes search mine. Being under his scrutiny feels different today. Thrilled goosebumps slide up my arms in a rush. His burning wood scent is overwhelming.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I finally say. “I don’t want to reach max caffeine so early in the day.”
Nolan’s eyes grow concerned. “Have you slept?”
I debate lying, but he’s going to see the dark circles regardless. “Nope. Did you?”
He hesitates. “Enough.”
Liar. Not that Nolan would ever admit to being anything short of ready for duty.
My phone buzzes on the counter, vibrating so hard it nearly walks itself off the edge. I catch it in time. It’s a text from Raelynn: I’m coming up. Be ready.
I glance at the time. It’s 6:45 AM. I am not ready. “Raelynn’s coming.”
Nolan stands up, smooth and silent, like he’s about to take a bullet for me. He probably is.
A brisk knock sounds at the door. Raelynn was probably already in the elevator when she sent that.
Nolan beats me to it. He scans through the peephole before opening it.
Raelynn strides in, powered by two shots of something even meaner than expresso. She’s wearing her signature black suit with no jewelry. Her bobbed red hair is perfect, not a strand out of place.
She acknowledges Nolan with a curt nod. “Can we talk alone?”
Nolan glances at me, eyebrow raised. I wave him off. “It’s fine.”
He doesn’t leave the suite, but melts into the background, retreating to the kitchen.
Raelynn sits on the couch, legs crossed, and withdraws her tablet from her bag. “You look like hell.”
I peel the undereye patches off my face. “I feel like hell.”
She taps the tablet without looking up. “We need to talk about last night. The gala performance was amazing, as always. But Piper, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
I meet Nolan’s gaze over Raelynn’s shoulder.
If she’s not going to let this go, then maybe she needs the truth.
It might help to have another person in my corner on this.
Or it might blow everything up. Visions of me doing interviews for omega-only shows or pack-focused lifestyle magazines freeze me in place.
Raelynn just says, “Hmm. Okay. I may have the doctor check you over one more time. Fainting after a performance isn’t a usual thing for you.” Her words show concern but the tone in which she’s speaking is an accusation.
Prince Kellen is a known alpha.
Maybe Raelynn’s already figured it out.
Fuck it. “The truth is I am feeling better now, but last night my suppressants all failed.”
Nolan closes his eyes and holds them shut for a long moment.
Raelynn finally looks up from her tablet. “Your what?”
“Suppressants,” I say again. “Raelynn, I’m an omega.”
For the first time since I signed my deal with Reverie Rest, I watch Raelynn fall silent.
Okay, maybe she hadn’t figured it out.
“An omega,” she says slowly.
I nod. “Yes.”
“Since?”
I blink. What does she mean? “Since I presented—a few years before signing with Reverie. But I’ve been on suppressants to the max this entire time.”
Raelynn’s finger still hovers over her tablet. “I thought you were a beta.”
Nolan shifts uncomfortably.
“I mean, I basically was until last night,” I answer.
“My only theory is that since I, uh…” I trail off as a heated blush creeps across my face.
“I scent-matched with Prince Kellen last night. I think my suppressants failed when met with that scent-match. They’re supposed to be a rare, fated-mates kind of things. ”
Nolan crosses his arms like he’s pissed. Did he forget I scent-matched with him, too?
Raelynn sets the tablet aside and places her hands in her lap. “This is information I really should have had much earlier than now.”
I shake my head. “It’s not relevant to my music career.”
Raelynn loudly clicks her tongue. “It is now.”
“I didn’t want it to be a part of my story.”
“Again, it is now.” Raelynn gestures to the space beside me. “You swooned for the Prince in front of a myriad of press outlets who now think the two of you are dating. If it got out that you are also an omega, I can’t even begin to imagine how this will play out.”
My heart sinks to my feet. “That we’re dating?”
Raelynn nods curtly. “Yes, Piper. Because the press has no qualms making up whatever story they want when they have a photo as great as a world-famous pop star swooning into Prince Kellen’s arms.” At this she stands and places her hands on her hips.
“The Royal Family is requesting our presence in less than an hour to discuss how to handle this. Forbidden romance is quite the story but we still have the chance to spin this favorably for everyone.”
“Spin what?” I hiss. “I am not dating Prince Kellen. I’m not dating anyone!”
Nolan flinches at the statement. For once, I don’t care. What I said is true.
Raelynn picks up her tablet and shoves it under her arm.
“It doesn’t matter what the truth is now.
With any luck, this will roll out of the news cycle in a few weeks.
Until then, we meet with the Royal Family and plan together how to handle this PR nightmare.
If we’re lucky, we can spin it into album marketing for you. ”
My fists clench at my sides. “Do you ever think of anything other than sales and money, Raelynn?”
Her eyes snap to mine with fire burning bright within.
“Yes, contrary to popular belief. I’ve kept the press from eating you alive before, Piper.
I’m doing it again. Let me help you.” And then she throws a glare at Nolan.
“And don’t think I haven’t noticed your behavior.
I’m going to assume this scent-match extends beyond the Prince.
Don’t let me or the press catch wind of this, Pierce. ”
Nolan bows his head for a moment. “Yes, ma’am.”
Raelynn smooths her blazer and grabs her bag. “You’re going to get dressed. Nolan is going with you to the palace. They’re sending a car. You are to be polite and charming, and you will not get scent-matched to any more members of royalty.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” I say, but she’s already out the door.
I stare at the closed door, then at Nolan, who has come out of hiding to lean against the counter.
He looks at me. “You okay?”
“Nope.” I gesture to the pajamas that I’m still wearing. “Do I look like a ‘meet the royal parents’ type?”
He scans me head to toe, and his lips twitch at the corners. “You’ll do.” Then, softer, “I’ll be with you the whole way, Piper.”
“That’s the spirit.”