Episode 29 When the Spell Slips #2
“Someone to cut,” the prince agrees. “We all know that’s how this works. We’ve been doing this for long enough.”
Thayer leans forward, brows drawn. “You already have someone in mind.”
There’s a long pause. One long enough, weighty enough that Court starts shaking his head. “No. No, fuck no.”
“Florence,” Forsythe insists. “She’s… complicated, yes. But she already knows how this is going to end. She’s handled herself well, but she’s not right for the long term. It’s unfair-”
“It’s unfair to blindside her with this!” Grieves growls. “We can’t just-”
“You know we can’t warn her,” Forsythe cuts in voice calm and collected, while his packmates seem to be simmering with frustration. “It's in the contract.”
I frown at that little bit of information, I didn’t realize that was the case. But I suppose it makes sense. Why allow the pack to give the omegas a heads up and avoid the drama of the rejection ceremony? “We have to treat her just like we would any other omega who isn’t our chosen mate.”
Ouch, that fucking hurts.
A weighted pause.
Forsythe fists his hands on the table. “If we keep her, we’ll look like we’re playing favorites. The public will start to suspect-”
“Good. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing?” Courtland asks. “Playing favorites? Choosing our omega?”
Thayer leans back in his chair, looking wrecked. “If we send her home, we look like we’re following the queen’s orders.”
No one answers.
Finally Forsythe says quietly, “We don’t have a choice. We’ve known this since the beginning. Florence goes.”
When the video stops, I swallow thickly and look up at Marshall and Lulu. “When was this?”
“Does it matter?”
Of course it matters. Of course it does.
If it was this morning then… well, I don’t want to consider the implications.
But if this was earlier in the game, before I let them touch me, before they made me promises, well, then I can’t really blame them, can I?
They were upfront about how this was going to go.
How they would have to pick someone who isn’t me to be their omega.
But they told me last night they’d at least keep me until the scenting ceremony, and I have this hope… no, this bone deep knowing that once we scent each other, that’ll be it. We’ll know. And once we know…
Well, the queen wouldn’t stand in the way of a scent match would she? Especially if that scent matching is recorded and televised in over ten countries to millions of people. She would have to bow to fate then, right?
This video must be from earlier in the season and the changed their minds for one reason or another and kept me. It must be.
I’m keenly aware of the camera pointed directly at me, recording my every reaction.
This is just production wanting to stir up more drama, more conflict.
“I suppose it doesn’t,” I say, handing the tablet back and this time Marshall takes it. I give them a tight smile. “Did you have any other questions for me? Anything else you want to talk about?”
Lulu leans back in her chair, considering.
“I really am on your side, Ren,” she says softly.
“We both are. Cameras notwithstanding, we don’t want to see you get hurt.
We know omegas are sensitive, that you can get attached when an alpha or a pack shows you affection.
That’s why we make a point of identifying the omegas that we know will not be picked and warn them to keep their distance to some degree.
To keep feelings out of it as much as you can.
It’s also why we suppress scents and designations.
All of that is to protect you and other omegas like you. ”
Tears prick my eyes, because everything she’s saying sounds right, sounds like she really does care about me.
“Which is why,” she sighs and leans forward. “I’m going to remind you again. Whatever happened last night, whatever they said or did, Florence, you know they are going to let you go. Tonight. Before the scenting ceremony.”
I stare at her in a daze. “What?” This doesn’t make any sense at all. None. Why would they warn me about this? Didn’t Forsythe just say they can’t give the omegas a heads up?
No, it's not true.
It's not.
This is a ploy to get juicier drama. I’m sure production expects me to storm out of here in tears and have some kind of a standoff with the pack. One with whining and demands for answers.
Which…
Let's be honest, I'm very close to doing anyway.
Maybe not the tears and the whining, but the answers? I can ask for those in a totally mature and calm way, right?
They’ll tell me that the video I saw was from earlier in the season and not this morning. And they’ll hug me and tell me everything is going to be alright. That they want me. That they want to keep me. That… I’m theirs.
I shy away from the thought, heart thundering just a little too hard in my chest. Like I’d just witnessed a jump scare in a movie.
But my omega has latched onto it. Theirs. Mine. Possessive grasping thoughts.
She views them as ours, as our pack. And that is a dangerous thing.
“Florence?” Lulu presses gently.
I blink back to her, swallowing down the whine that wants to emerge and licking my lips. “Yes?”
“Do you have anything to say about that? About knowing they’re going to send you home tonight?”
She’s looking for a reaction. That’s all this is.
I shake my head and give the camera a halfhearted smile. “I suppose if that’s true, I’ll just have to accept it, won’t I? That’s the nature of the show. They get to decide who stays and who goes.”
My voice cracks on the last word and I curse myself for it when Lulu’s eyes flare just the slightest bit in victory.
I grasp onto that like a lifeline.
See? I tell myself. This is all for the ratings. The drama. The… heartbreak.
A flare of hatred so intense it steals my breath hits me. For Lulu. For Marshall. For the entire production staff and every person who watches the show supports it. That is what they want, what they’re salivating for. My heartbreak. The heartbreak of omegas like me.
They want to see us shatter beyond fixing.
And I really don’t want to give them the satisfaction of witnessing it.
“Is there anything else?” I ask again, keeping my voice as level as I can, my expression as neutral as Forsythe’s always is. “Any other secrets you’d like to get my opinion on?”
Lulu slumps back in her chair. ‘“No, I suppose that’s it.”
“Great.” I slap my hands down on the arms of the chair and push up. “I’m off then.”
I keep my chin raised and my steps steady as I slip out of the confessional room and into the hall. People blur together as I quicken my pace, ignoring their curious looks.
Alphas, my suppressed omega cries out weakly. We need our alphas.
I swallow thickly acknowledging that she’s right.
That I do need to talk to them, to get reassurance from them.
I change direction, moving with purpose now rather than the beating need to just get away, back toward the pool area where I know everyone else is gathered.
The remaining omegas and the Ashbourne pack.
The sunshine hits too bright, my eyes squinting against it as my stomach roils. There’s only a handful of us left now, and everyone looks up when I enter the area.
My already nauseous stomach flips and tumbles when I see Isadora perched sideways on Forsythe’s lap, her arm slung over his shoulder, one of his hands is resting on her hip, the other is gripping her thigh.
His jaw ticks and he drags his gaze off of me, back to Isadora.
My steps slow and then I stumble to a stop.
Shit.
Maybe Lulu was right. Maybe they are getting rid of me tonight. Maybe… Maybe they regret touching me last night. Maybe what we shared wasn’t up to their standards. It felt phenomenal to me, but then… my experience with males, beta and alpha alike, has been pretty sub-par.
Maybe for them it was unpolished, sloppy, overeager. Mid-range.
Maybe they don’t want an omega who does filthy things like feeding the prince’s cum into Thayer’s mouth, even when it's demanded of her.
Maybe I should have told them ‘no’ when they asked to touch me.
Maybe last night was a test I failed.
A half strangled whine bubbles up my throat, a camera pushes in close to catch my expression. It only gets worse when all of the alphas tense, but don’t move toward me.
“Ren? Little bird? What’s wrong?” Piers appears at my elbow, his hand a warm solid weight against my lower back. I turn to him frantic, needing the steady reassurance he always gives me, the warm smile, the calm eyes.
His expression darkens when he sees my own, and in a second he’s tugging me out of the pool area, away from the cameras, down a hall and into a… storage closet. My mic is still on, but I’m not worried about it.
The beta’s hands come up to cup my jaw, holding my gaze. “Tell me, what the fuck happened? Last night when we left you, you were a puddle of sated omega.”
My cheeks flare bright red in frustration and embarrassment. “Is… are you sending me home tonight?” The question bursts out of me. “Should I have not let things go as far as they did last night? Was that a mistake?”
“What? Baby, no.” Piers hooks a wide palm around the back of my neck and pulls me into him, wrapping his arms tight around my back as he tucks my head under his chin. I huff in his fresh cut grass scent and try to believe him. Try to calm the fuck down.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I-there was a video. Of one of the discussions you guys have to decide who you’re sending home. Lulu and Marshall showed it to me. You were talking about me, about sending me home. It sounded like it was a forgone conclusion.”