5. Chapter 5
Chapter five
Destiny
D estiny hardly paid attention for the rest of the tour. Her thoughts kept wandering back to handsome, charming Greyson Valentine and equally handsome, infinitely less charming Prince Alexander. Despite her undeniable attraction to Greyson, Destiny was annoyed to be thinking of either of them. She needed to be thinking about how to get out of staying an extra night in Avondale.
Every window they passed showed a winter wonderland, which was only enhanced by the holly and twinkle lights that were appearing all over the castle. Fat snowflakes were falling steadily, coating the landscape in white. Destiny wondered if the snow would impact the opening event of the Christmas festival, which the princess said consisted of the simultaneous lighting of five acres of trees. Teams of Avondalian citizens contributed to charity to enter the contest. Their donations bought them a tree, a chance to win a cash prize and, most importantly, bragging rights. Apparently, the royal family judged the competition—inspecting more than a thousand trees every year.
“Are you ready to head back to your room to rest until the performance, or did you want to do some more sightseeing?” Sasha appeared at Destiny’s side, smiling brightly.
Destiny frowned. “I’m not the one excited to play tourist.”
Sasha rolled her eyes, hooking elbows with Destiny and steering her toward a small group of women. Damon followed them inconspicuously, a constant shadow keeping her safe. “Honestly, I don’t know how you can be opposed to spending an extra night in a castle. It’s going to be so fun! I think you’re just cranky and need a nap. Come on.”
Mina and Genesis turned to them, breaking away from the other women. Mina smiled brightly, and Destiny decided she definitely needed that nap if she was going to withstand the aggressive combined cheerfulness of both beta assistants. Genesis gave her a sympathetic smirk.
“Miss Duvalle, I’ll show you back to your room. Miss Valentine if you walk with us a bit, I’ll reunite you with your brother on the way,” Mina announced, clapping her hands briskly.
“Valentine?” Destiny’s attention snapped to Genesis’s face. “You’re Greyson’s sister?”
Genesis’s smirk grew. “The one and only. I take it you met my esteemed younger sibling today. What did you think of him?”
Destiny’s cheeks felt suddenly warm. What did she think of Greyson the outrageously gorgeous, obscenely delicious-smelling alpha with the dreamy British accent? She struggled to find an appropriate answer.
“He’s…nice,” Destiny said feebly, cheeks growing hotter. “Very charming.”
Genesis gave her a knowing, amused glance. “Extremely charming and pretty good-looking. I’m not just saying that cause we’re siblings. We have different mothers, and we don’t know which of our fathers sired us, so I can’t claim to share his genetic gifts. But he is objectively handsome, wouldn’t you say?”
Destiny laughed at the bluntness, shaking off her embarrassment. “Anyone with a pulse who’s attracted to men would say Greyson is an absolute babe.”
“I sure would,” Sasha piped up, breaking off her conversation with Mina midsentence. “He looks like a thousand women wished upon a star for the perfect man and he appeared.”
“Sasha! Genesis is his sister!” Destiny scolded through her laughter.
“I’m just agreeing with her!” Sasha exclaimed, lifting her hands innocently. “She said it first.”
They were still laughing when Mina led their group through a heavy door and into a massive gymnasium. At its center sat a boxing ring, which was currently occupied by two men. A third stood just outside the ring, talking over the sound of punches and grunts.
Pack Stepanov, all in one place.
Destiny abruptly stopped laughing as she caught their combined scents, the air thick with pheromones from their exertions. Her stomach clenched and she swayed on her feet, overwhelmed by the heady combination of their scents: cedar and sage and nutmeg, cypress and pomegranate, magnolia and patchouli and home, home, home. For a moment she couldn’t do anything but struggle to breathe.
The alphas stopped in unison, turning toward their unexpected audience. Destiny’s mouth went dry as she took them in. Greyson had removed his jacket, wearing only suspenders, a tailored dress shirt, and slacks. He’d rolled up his sleeves to reveal forearms corded with muscle.
Prince Alexander looked even more annoyingly attractive than he had earlier, his sweaty hair disheveled and falling into his electric blue eyes. He was shirtless, and looked more like a Viking god than any mortal man should with his chiseled chest and huge biceps.
Hunter Li was, as expected, the most beautiful man Destiny had ever seen. What was it with these guys? Did they have no decency? Must they hoard all the attractiveness in the universe? It was positively unfair.
The prince’s head of security was the tallest of the three men, with a model’s bone structure—high cheekbones and a strong jaw offset by dark hair and smoldering hazel eyes. He had broad shoulders and narrow hips, but where Prince Alexander was bulkier, Hunter was more finely sculpted. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and Destiny couldn’t help but trace his eight-pack with her gaze, swallowing hard when she reached the v of muscle that disappeared below his waistband.
Mina cleared her throat loudly, breaking the intense stare off between Destiny and Pack Stepanov. Destiny blushed and lowered her eyes as Mina bowed to each of them.
“Prince Alexander, Prince Consort Hunter, Prince Consort Greyson, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said cheerfully. “I was just taking Miss Duvalle back to her room and Miss Valentine was searching for her brother.”
“Of course, Mina, thank you,” Greyson replied, his easy charm smoothing over the awkward moment. “As a reminder, you don’t have to use our ridiculous titles. I hope that we’re all becoming friends here, so there’s no need to stand on such formalities.”
“He just doesn’t like the idea of consorting with me,” Prince Alexander interjected, with that lopsided grin that made Destiny’s stomach flip. “You’re in my pack, old chap. You’re my consort. Get used to it.”
“Don’t be a prat, Xander.” Greyson looked so elegantly above the prince’s foolishness that Destiny would’ve laughed if she wasn’t still involuntarily huffing their pheromones. “Miss Duvalle, Gen, this is my packmate, head of security, and consort , Hunter Li.”
“Nice to meet you,” Genesis replied.
“We’ve met,” Destiny said at the same time.
Hunter’s olive skin reddened a little, indicating he had strong feelings about their unceremonious introduction last night. He’d been perfectly polite but hadn’t spoken more than five words to Destiny as he took care of the prince’s mess. But his eyes—they’d been as intense as they were now, boring into Destiny as if trying to dissect her, and root out her secrets. He gave her a slight nod, then turned to Genesis and did the same.
Genesis looked between them, then at her brother and the prince, that familiar knowing glint in her eye. “I’m so jealous Destiny is staying for the beginning of the festival. I would’ve tried to weasel my way into an invitation if I’d known but I’ve got to get back to the states to cover the White House’s holiday concert. Y’all be sure to show my new friend an extra good time, won’t you?”
“I assure you we’ll take very good care of Miss Duvalle,” Greyson replied, dark eyes fixed on Destiny, his voice laced with a promise that made her feel warm all over.
“We should let her get her rest before her big performance tonight,” Prince Alexander said abruptly, scowling at Destiny again. “She has rabid teenage girls to entertain, after all.”
Destiny bristled at the taunting note in the prince’s voice. Was everything with this fucking guy a power play? There was a challenge in his tone, an obvious intention of getting a rise out of her. Destiny wouldn’t let him. She’d been on her best behavior so far, but she knew how to get down and dirty with the best of them. And this definitely wasn’t her first time around smug dude bros who wanted to make her feel small for making music girls and women enjoyed. Two could play this game.
“It’s always a pleasure to interact with my fans,” she said, smiling coldly at the prince. “Why don’t you bring the magazines of me you keep under your mattress, and I’ll sign them for you? If the pages aren’t too sticky, that is.”
She kept her face carefully neutral as Prince Alexander’s jaw dropped, and Greyson had a sudden coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Genesis didn’t hide her grin, and even Hunter was smirking. Checkmate, asshole .
“I am tired, Mina,” Destiny added, before the prince could respond. “Perhaps I can get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep since Prince Alexander is under proper supervision.”
Destiny thought she saw Hunter wince, but when she met his gaze, his expression was inscrutable. She turned away, beckoning for Sasha and Damon to fall into step beside her. A wide-eyed Mina bowed quickly to the pack before hurrying to lead them from the room.
Destiny could feel three sets of eyes watching her go.
She did not take a nap.
She certainly tried to nap, but her brain kept replaying the events of the day, particularly dwelling on the parts involving Pack Stepanov. She thought of several wittier comebacks to Prince Alexander’s taunts, growing more irritated every time she caught herself wasting energy on him. Just as unsettling was how her heart raced and her skin grew hot when she thought about Greyson promising to take care of her, that alluring mouth of his making the words a caress. And then there was the way Hunter watched her as if searching for something only she might possess.
She squirmed, acutely aware of her core tightening, her stomach aching. Destiny wasn’t used to feeling this way outside of her heats. There must’ve been something in Pack Stepanov’s damn pheromones that uniquely appealed to her own biology. It just didn’t make any sense.
Scent match , whispered a tiny voice in the back of her mind. She smothered the thought quickly. Finding mates with compatible scents was challenging enough, but meeting a true match was practically impossible. Scent matches were fairy tales and fated mates were old-fashioned nonsense.
Except she knew they were real. Destiny’s best friend and her mates had been a scent match. So, it was rare but not impossible.
Destiny pushed the thoughts away. Real or not, it wouldn’t happen to her. She was probably just reacting to alphas in the way omegas were supposed to. She’d always been abnormal in her indifference to their pheromones. Maybe whatever was wrong with her had finally righted itself.
Destiny gave up on napping and rang for a cup of green tea. She scrolled her phone as she sipped it, hoping to distract herself from useless, existential musings. Her mother had emailed her, asking if she might pretty please be willing to sing at the White House dinner after the inauguration, because she was very close to securing Destiny the gig and it would be so good for her career.
Groaning, Destiny tossed her phone aside and got out of bed. So much for taking a few months off. She should be grateful. The gig would be great for her career. Her mom only wanted the best for her.
But was what was best for Destiny the same as what was best for her career? She was starting to think otherwise. When she got home and could be quiet and alone, she was going to force herself to face the situation and make some tough decisions.
Now, though, she would focus on the task at hand. She’d get through one more day in Avondale, then she’d go home and rethink her life. One thing at a time.
Soon, Sasha was coming to fetch her, and Mina was leading them to the castle’s music room. There, Destiny met an energetic swarm of teenagers, led by Princess Natalya. They’d come with their families to spend several days at the castle, celebrating the princess’s birthday and enjoying the Christmas events. The additional guests had brought a joyful, festive energy to the already buzzing castle.
Destiny was amused to see them in casual clothes, laughing and messing around like normal kids, despite many of them being royalty or close to it. She’d never had that sense of normalcy as so-called music royalty, so it was nice to see that it was possible. The kings and queen must be great parents.
Destiny chatted with them all, taking pictures and videos for socials, and autographing anything they handed her. The music room slowly filled with other guests of the monarchy, along with many of the staff. Finally, an attendant herded the teenagers to their seats so that Destiny could get ready to start the show.
As she turned away, a low voice caught her attention. “Can you sign one more?”
Destiny tried not to gasp as she found Hunter Li standing a few feet away. Even in the crowded room, she could discern his deliciously spicy earthy scent—magnolia and patchouli. It took her a minute to realize he was holding out a magazine.
“I promise it isn’t sticky,” he said when she hesitated, raising an eyebrow at her. She thought there might be a hint of amusement in his hazel eyes.
“I don’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed,” Destiny heard herself reply for some reason. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say she was flirting.
The magazine was, in fact, in pristine condition—which was remarkable, because it was far from new. Destiny gaped in surprise as she took in her smiling, younger face. It was one of the first covers she’d ever done. She signed it with a flourish.
“I guess it’s obvious I’m a fan.” Hunter rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. “We all are, even if Xander is pretending otherwise. You’re an icon.”
Destiny returned the magazine, unsure why she felt a sudden pang of sadness. “Well, thanks for the support. Hopefully I’ll live up to the hype.”
Hunter cocked his head, studying her face. “You already have. I could tell last night that I was going to like the real you so much better than the fantasy. Break a leg.”
Before she could respond, Hunter slipped away, fading into the shadows at the edges of the room as the lights dimmed. Destiny exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The alpha’s scent lingered, urging her to follow him. It felt as though there was a thread rooted deep in her belly, and it was tugging her toward Hunter Li.
Destiny turned away, ignoring the pull of need and hope and curiosity. She had a show to do. She would give a great performance, try and enjoy the opening festivities tomorrow, and then get the hell out of Avondale and away from the confusing clutter of emotions caused by Pack Stepanov.
Destiny climbed onto the low stage and took her seat on a stool placed before a microphone stand. She picked up her guitar and felt calm return immediately, her shoulders unwinding as she settled the instrument in her lap. She smiled out at the room of eager faces, seeing no one. It was just her and the music now.
She let it say all the things she couldn’t.