8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Destiny
N othing was going to plan.
Destiny wasn’t sure what she’d done to earn her current karma, but she was sorry for whatever it was. All she wanted to do was go home, be alone, and think about her life. Instead, she was five thousand miles away and trapped indefinitely with rich, influential strangers, including a cocky alphahole prince and his infuriatingly attractive packmates.
Okay, maybe that last bit wasn’t as terrible as Destiny was making it out to be. She didn’t want to admit that, beneath her frustration, there was an insistent whisper of excitement at the thought of spending more time with Pack Stepanov. Maybe that’s why she’d agreed to hang out with them that evening.
And why she found herself standing in the wing of the castle designated as their packhouse, attempting to focus on her futile web search for other transportation options out of Avondale, and trying her best to think straight through the haze of alpha pheromones. It was damn near impossible. Their scents permeated everything, enveloping Destiny in cedar and cypress, pomegranate and patchouli, and all the other irresistible fragrances that were uniquely Greyson, Hunter, and Alexander.
If this is what other unbonded omegas felt around alphas, she was glad she’d been broken for so long. Destiny wouldn’t have been able to function, let alone perform, if she’d been this distracted and aroused every time she caught a whiff of available alpha. Was she going to have to deal with this all the time now that her instincts had awakened? If so, her mother would have no choice but to cut back her schedule.
“Destiny? You’re still a vegetarian, right?” Hunter Li was looking at her curiously, making her wonder if this wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question.
Destiny smiled, putting away her useless phone, and forcing herself to focus. “Yes, but how did you know that? I mean, I’m sure the kitchen staff was made aware, but you’re security, not sustenance, right?”
One corner of Hunter’s mouth quirked up in a smile, a slight flush spreading across his high cheekbones. “I told you I was a fan.”
Destiny laughed, remembering the old magazine he’d had her sign. “You actually read the articles, huh? Most guys bought those magazines for the posters.”
Hunter kept his intense gaze on her as he expertly chopped vegetables. When he’d offered to whip up some snacks for the four of them, Destiny hadn’t expected him to put on a culinary show. Seated at the bar that separated the kitchen and living rooms in the open main area of the packhouse, she watched him throw together a fresh charcuterie tray with practiced ease.
“I wanted the posters, too,” Hunter admitted, lowering his head bashfully. A lock of black hair fell into his eyes, and Destiny fought the ridiculous urge to smooth it back into place. “My grandmother fussed that I was as much of a sucker for a pretty face as my dad, but she was the one who kept buying me the magazines.”
Everyone was a sucker for her pretty face. It was a privilege, but sometimes it didn’t feel that way. Hunter probably had a version of her built up in his mind from years of boyish fantasies. There was no way the woman behind the posters could live up to those expectations.
“Your gran knows that you’re the most sensible fellow in the pack,” Greyson interjected, joining them at the bar, with drinks in both hands. “You’re the least likely to lose your head, regardless of appearance. If you’ve captivated Hunter, Miss Duvalle, it’s for more than your exceptional beauty.”
Destiny’s cheeks warmed. Was this guy super smooth or was it the British accent coming out of that generous mouth? Both. Probably both.
“Call me Destiny, please,” she said, trying to calm her racing heart. “You said we’re all friends now.”
Greyson smiled broadly, handing her a large, frosted mug. “Okay, Destiny . As your friend, love, I must say that I can’t believe you can drink that rubbish.”
Her name sounded somehow intimate when he said it, as if they were much better acquainted, or that they would soon be. Even as she felt a thrill of excitement, she relaxed under his gentle teasing. It was nice to feel a little less “on” after the long day spent with the royals and their guests.
“Don’t yuck my yum, Mr. Valentine.” Destiny lifted her nose snootily. “You offered me a festive drink, and there’s nothing more festive than eggnog. And it has alcohol in it, so don’t tell me it’s not the kind of drink you were talking about.”
Greyson made a disgusted face as Destiny took a long sip of her drink. She grinned back at him, licking the film of eggnog from her lips. Greyson’s expression shifted immediately, eyes darkening as he followed the movement of her tongue. She was suddenly aware of how close they were, how if she leaned forward just a bit, she could bury her nose in his chest and inhale his pomegranate and cypress sweetness at its most potent.
“What are we drinking, gents?” Alexander boomed jovially, snapping Destiny out of her daze. She scowled at the knowing expression on the prince’s face when he saw her proximity to Greyson.
He was so arrogant. Of course, he expected people to be drooling over his pack. The prince had already made it painfully clear what type of person he thought she was. Maybe his seemingly innocent invitation had ulterior motives. She should’ve gone back to her room, where she could start calling in favors to find a way out of his country.
The prince’s bedroom was right off the main area, and Destiny caught a glimpse of a stately-looking bed and dark walls before he shut the door behind him. He’d changed into jeans and a henley, and his posture was much more casual out of his royal regalia. With his blond hair still wet from the shower and falling over blue eyes bright with mischief, Destiny couldn’t deny he was attractive in an annoyingly hunky surfer way. His grin told her he was well aware of the fact, too.
“You’re drinking club soda, pal,” Greyson said, giving his pack leader a pointed look. “After how sloshed you were last night, you’re officially cut off for the foreseeable.”
Alexander rolled his eyes, crossing to the bar in a few quick strides. Rather than utilizing the ample empty space on either side of them, he wriggled his way between Greyson and Destiny, leaned over the counter, and plucked a cube of cheese from the tray Hunter was finishing up. Then he made a big show of putting his arm around Greyson’s shoulders, while looking Destiny up and down.
“Let’s take this party upstairs,” he said, grinning at Destiny as he popped the cube of cheese into his mouth.
The action brought attention to his lips, which had probably been his intention, and Destiny couldn’t stop herself from glancing at his mouth. Worse, at this proximity, his nutmeg, cedar, and sage scent was absolutely intoxicating. All three of the alphas were too close. She couldn’t think.
Then she took in the prince’s smug expression and processed his words. Anger flared in her chest. She bared her teeth.
Just as she opened her mouth to incinerate him, Hunter interjected quickly. “He meant take the party upstairs to the game room. Where we play normal, friendly games. Like foosball.”
Destiny snapped her mouth shut. It looked like Hunter was the brains of this operation. She should talk to him more. These other two were a rollercoaster.
Prince Alexander’s grin widened. “Tsk tsk, Frosty. Someone’s mind is in the gutter. Our bedrooms are here on the ground floor. But if you get any fun ideas, we can make it work upstairs too.”
Destiny opened her mouth again, but Greyson hustled Alexander toward the stairs, scolding him in a harsh whisper. Hunter gave her an apologetic shrug, picked up the tray of food, and followed his packmates. Destiny glared at their backs, seriously considering whether she should cut her losses and leave now. She could curl up in her borrowed bed and think about all the ways you could murder a man.
“Come on, Frosty! I’ll let you beat me at foosball!” Prince Alexander called.
Destiny ground her teeth, took another swig of eggnog, and followed the pack up the stairs, resisting the urge to stomp the entire way. To the right of the stairwell, she found them in a huge room that looked like a comic book shop and a sports bar had a baby. Hunter and Greyson had found spots where they could lounge and look effortlessly handsome, while Prince Alexander was standing by the foosball table, grinning expectantly at her.
Destiny wanted to wipe that cocky grin off his stupid, beautiful face.
“Have you ever played foosball?” the prince asked, tossing his hair out of his sapphire eyes.
Destiny bit her lip, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She made sure her voice came out a little uncertain. “A few times.”
Prince Alexander grinned wider. “I’ll teach you.”
Destiny munched from the charcuterie tray, while the prince explained the rules and basic foosball strategy. Hunter and Greyson absently scrolled their phones, occasionally commenting or offering Destiny more food or drink. She finished her eggnog, then took the position across the table from the prince.
“Ready?” he asked, holding the ball above the cup on top of the table.
Destiny smiled sweetly and nodded. The prince dropped the ball into the cup. It rolled down the track and dropped onto the table. Alexander served, but Destiny quickly took control of the ball, passed it between several players, then knocked it through the prince’s goal. She gave herself a point.
“Wow! Lucky shot! I’d better get on defense, I guess.” The prince’s grin faltered. He gathered the ball again. “Ready?”
Destiny nodded. The prince dropped the ball into the cup. It rolled down the track and dropped onto the table. Alexander served. Destiny took control of the ball, passed it between several players, then knocked it through the prince’s goal, before smirking and giving herself another point.
Prince Alexander’s grin faded completely. Greyson and Hunter put their phones away. They leaned forward, watching as the prince adjusted his players, and gathered the ball again.
This time, he didn’t ask if she was ready. He dropped the ball into the cup, then quickly gripped the rods with a look of determination on his face. The ball dropped onto the table, and Prince Alexander moved quickly to serve. But Destiny was ready. She stole the ball and knocked it immediately through the prince’s goal.
Hunter whooped and stood up, hand extended toward Greyson. Sighing, Greyson reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, and slapped a bill into Hunter’s palm. This time, Hunter moved to the score counter to add Destiny’s point. He smirked at the prince, who didn’t look at all amused.
“This kitten has claws, Xander,” Hunter said.
“You played me,” Prince Alexander growled accusingly.
“You played yourself,” Destiny shot back. “That’s what happens when you make assumptions. Something you have a terrible habit of doing.”
Greyson and Hunter were laughing openly now, even as the prince’s face reddened. He glared at her, his eyes icy. He clearly wasn’t a man who was used to losing.
Destiny smiled a sugary smile. “You don’t look like you’re going to let me win like you promised.”
Prince Alexander didn’t respond. His face was set in grim concentration. He dropped the ball into the cup.
Fifteen minutes later, Hunter and Greyson had laughed themselves to tears and Destiny had won the game with a score of ten to four. Prince Alexander was fuming, pointedly ignoring his packmates while glaring at Destiny as she sipped her second glass of eggnog.
“Let me redeem myself,” the prince demanded once the laughter died down. “How about a game of pool?”
Destiny rolled her eyes. “Only if you promise not to give me another lesson. I have played pool before.”
The prince’s eyes gleamed. “Good. I was hoping you had. Why don’t we up the stakes?”
“ Xander .” There was a warning note in Greyson’s voice.
Destiny held the prince’s gaze. “What are we wagering?”
“Clothes.” Prince Alexander ran his gaze over her slowly, letting his impish smile spread. “You see, ever since your little innuendo earlier, I’m afraid my mind’s been a bit in the gutter as well. I’d love to add a little spice to the evening.”
Destiny started to respond, but Greyson was suddenly at the prince’s side, glowering at him. Hunter looked just as disapproving. It was incredibly chivalrous, but Destiny didn’t need their protection. She wasn’t easily embarrassed by nudity and sex.
“That sounds fun, actually,” Destiny said, but Greyson cut her off.
“Poor form, Xander,” he growled. “Just because you’re sore about losing, doesn’t mean you get to be a complete tosser.”
“Relax, Grey. No need to pull out the extra British insults. I was going to tell her before she decided.” Prince Alexander shrugged dismissively. “I was the captain of the billiards team at academy. I’m quite good.”
In that case, his friends’ reactions made more sense. Destiny lifted an eyebrow at the prince, wondering if he’d really intended to tell her that little tidbit of personal history before she agreed to his challenge. The mischievous glint in his eye gave her the feeling he probably didn’t know himself. The impulsive prick.
“I’ve never played professionally or been in any clubs or teams, but I’m pretty good myself,” Destiny replied. “You’re on.”
Greyson looked torn between protesting further and giving in, but Hunter narrowed his eyes at her, and put a hand on Greyson’s arm. He shook his head, stepping aside to let the prince lead the way. Destiny gave them both a conspiratorial wink, earning a smirk from Hunter.
“Greyson, do the coin toss,” Prince Alexander commanded as he set out the pool balls.
Destiny chose tails. Greyson winced as the toss came up heads. Alexander’s grin was positively foxlike.
“I hope it’s not too cold in here for you, ice maiden,” the prince murmured, brushing against her unnecessarily as he got into position to break. “One article of clothing for every ball potted. Paired items count as one—no one shoe at a time nonsense. If you run out of clothes, we’ll have to discuss a comparable payment.”
Destiny shivered, her stomach clenching despite her annoyance. She stalked to the edge of a nearby air hockey table to lean beside Hunter. His proximity would do nothing to calm her traitorous hormones, but at least she didn’t want to strangle him.
Hunter looked down at her, expression inscrutable. His hazel eyes were dark, and his posture stiff. Destiny shivered again.
The loud crack of pool balls drew her attention back to the table. The prince had potted a solid ball. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Destiny stood up, feeling warm all over. She was used to being ogled but having Pack Stepanov’s eyes on her felt different. Of course, she wasn’t going to give Prince Alexander the satisfaction of seeing her ruffled. She lifted her chin, stepping purposefully into a beam of recessed lighting.
She’d selected a casual winter look for the evening’s performance and hadn’t bothered to change afterward. Her soft, cashmere sweater hung off one shoulder, but cinched at the waist with a wide belt so that it hugged her curves. She’d paired it with buttery soft leather leggings she’d have to peel herself out of, and furry stiletto boots. Not the ideal ensemble for strip billiards, but it would have to do. Slowly, she unbuckled the belt, making a big show of dropping it to the floor. The prince grinned.
“I’ve gotta say, this is incredibly motivating.” He moved around the table, lining up his next shot. “I might never forgive myself if I don’t sink every ball.”
Prince Alexander potted another ball. He leaned back, eyes glittering with satisfaction. He waited.
Because Destiny knew the prince would expect her to go with her boots next, she held his gaze as she whipped her sweater over her head and tossed it aside. She wore a lacy camisole beneath, but between its fitted nature and low neckline, she was showing significantly more skin. The prince’s eyes widened slightly.
Destiny didn’t risk a look at Hunter or Greyson, but she could feel them watching her. Had the pheromones in the air grown thicker, or had her breathing just gotten too shallow? She wasn’t sure but she couldn’t think about it. She had to focus on the game.
She made an impatient gesture, urging Alexander to continue. The prince grinned at her, bending to take his next shot. A moment later, another solid ball dropped into a pocket, and the temperature in the room seemed to tick up a few degrees.
“Xander, do be a gentleman about this,” Greyson began, but he cut himself off with a strangled sound as Destiny pulled her camisole off.
In her bra, boots, and practically painted-on leggings, there was nowhere for Destiny to hide. So, she stood proudly, one hand on her hip, chin and chest held high. The room went completely silent and still. Destiny waited, letting their eyes roam freely over her body.
Slowly she walked toward the prince, carefully studying the table. His next logical shot should be pretty easy, if he could avoid the striped ball that was on the edge of the best trajectory. His confident grin indicated he knew it too.
Destiny brushed past him, letting her breasts graze his arm. With a frustrated sigh, she rested her hands on the table’s edge, leaning forward slightly to watch the prince’s next attempt. She was acutely aware that the men of Pack Stepanov were tracking her every movement.
She glanced over her shoulder to where Greyson and Hunter now stood side by side. She fluttered her lashes and smiled. “If he sinks a couple more, I’m going to need your help getting out of these pants.”
Someone growled. Destiny’s stomach clenched in response, and she felt slick gathering between her thighs. Even though she knew exactly what she was doing, that didn’t mean it was all an act. She liked their eyes on her, liked knowing they were hungry for more. It turned her on.
Prince Alexander took the shot.
And potted a striped ball.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed, running a hand roughly through his hair. Behind her, Greyson groaned, and Hunter sighed. Destiny smiled.
The alphas watched her as she chalked the end of her pool cue with deliberate care. The prince joined his packmates, taking his place between them, and crossing his arms over his chest. His expression held a combination of frustration and excitement.
Destiny leaned over the table, arching her back and stretching like a cat before lining up the shot. She took her time, making sure they got a good look. If she was going to decimate their pack leader, she might as well give them a show while she was at it.
“Before I got my big break, my parents worked at a dive bar in Smyrna City,” Destiny said, potting her first ball. “They’d started out performing there, when they were still a local band just trying to make it big, but eventually they took permanent jobs. Mom and Pops were bartenders, Dad was a bouncer, and BD did a little bit of everything. They insisted on homeschooling me but couldn’t afford not to work, so they took me with them every day.”
Destiny took her next shot, banking a ball off the side and sinking two more stripes. She heard the prince gasp, but she didn’t look up. She rounded the table, choosing a more difficult angle than strictly necessary.
“Eventually, my folks got in trouble and the manager fired them, because the bar was getting well-known for two things: the bar staff’s underage daughter singing karaoke and hustling customers on the game tables.” In quick succession, Destiny potted every striped ball on the table. “Eight-ball, side pocket.”
When the eight-ball disappeared, Destiny turned to Prince Alexander with a triumphant smile. His mouth was hanging open comically, and his packmates looked nearly as stunned. Destiny sauntered over to face them, feeling tall even though she had to look up to meet the prince’s gaze.
“Strip, little princeling,” she said.