Chapter 26
twenty-six
I’m not sure why I’m surprised to learn that “packing” for the princes means one suitcase each, if that.
Of course they each have a set of clothes here and different ones at their palace. They’re royals , for crying out loud. Why did I think they’d be stuffing their lives into duffel bags like I have over the past week?
Unease flips my stomach inside out as I glance at the pile of belongings next to me in the backseat of the car Asher sent.
I really hope this isn’t a mistake.
Originally, they all insisted on picking me up personally, but we still need to fly under the radar in the village. Aunt Matilda has already given me enough attitude about my sudden change in life plans. The last thing I need is paparazzi at her front door.
Despite Asher’s pack making good on their vows to take care of my mother’s medical bills, my family still isn’t thrilled—even though all of this is technically just temporary, at this point.
I’m not sure what they’re so upset about. Especially since, according to Matilda, I’ll likely come crawling home within weeks.
This is delusional! You’re not an omega; you’re a beta. Did you show them all your designation tests? Do they know you can’t take their precious knots? Even if you were an omega, do you really think you could be a mate for a pack of princes? And what? Become the queen? It’s insanity, Ivy!
I block out the memories of her stinging barbs, trying to settle myself with deep breaths as the car rolls to a stop at the center of Maytown Manor’s circular drive. The guys are all outside—and if I get out of the car smelling distressed, it will interrupt their work.
Asher seems especially busy, nodding at a clipboard Mrs. Kemp holds out to him while also directing the valets pulling various vehicles up to the entrance. His phone lights in his hand and he answers it, still scanning whatever document the housekeeper needs him to approve.
Dair leans against the largest of the glossy black sedans—one designed to be a custom limo. Not that he’s impressed by it. With his arms crossed and his head tilted back, lips firmly sealed into his signature scowl, the duke looks like the very picture of disdain.
Bast is the only one who seems at ease. He smiles as he shakes hands with staff members who have gathered to see them off. Gracie isn’t there—but we said our goodbyes last night when she came to help me get the last of my stuff together.
It wasn’t very much. And some precious things—like my mother’s urn and her sewing table—were inappropriate to cart to the palace. Especially since my stay there might be very temporary.
Every night, when I finish texting the guys and lay in my squeaky bed, I try to picture it. Being their omega. Living at Everdeen. Ruling …
I suppose it probably isn’t a good sign that I still haven’t really been able to envision any of it.
Because I’m trying not to smell like a burned biscuit, I don’t let myself dwell on that thought for too long. Instead, I shut my eyes and feel my way back to the last night I was alone with any of the guys—when Dair showed up on my doorstep.
Things between us may be a long way from settled or certain, but something about the memory of him relaxing beneath me loosens the tightness surrounding my lungs. I focus on that, along with the squealing excitement my Omega can’t contain.
I may be worried I’ll never be enough for a pack of royals, but she’s totally oblivious to anything other than the fact that we’re about to be in the back of a car with them, alone, for hours.
As our tires crunch to a halt on the gravel, all three princes immediately freeze, their heads whipping in my direction. Asher’s face becomes more severe as he growls at whoever he’s speaking to. Dair’s posture unwinds— with relief? And Bast’s face beams with a grin that could rival the sun.
Over the last week, the baron has been in constant contact with me. Texting and calling and generally being the most charming man in existence. The day my box of omega gear arrived, he spent three hours with me on FaceTime, explaining what every single item was for. And biting back chuckles when I got flustered over some of the more… intimate things.
He’s the closest to my car—and the moment our eyes connect through the tinted glass, I fly out of my seat. The skirt of my only non-work dress flies up behind me as I dive into his open arms.
Bast catches me with a laugh, effortlessly swinging me into the cradle of his body.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against my temple. “Princess.”