Episode 17 The Princess and the Press Release
Florence
It doesn't take long for the backlash from the paparazzi photos to strike. The queen doubles down on my manipulation. Isadora supports her claim. The crown releases a statement about how everyone knows that I can’t be trusted, that the pack is only in Granton to figure out if this is all a grand scheme on my part to trap them into a bond that none of them want.
She paints them as noble heroes flying to the side of the poor, sick, obsessed omega, to see what they can do for me, to help me, while still ensuring everyone that the betrothal witnessed on a reality dating show is not going anywhere.
The Ashbourne pack stays notably silent on the matter.
Which allows people to draw their own conclusions.
Mostly that I am a manipulative fuck, intent on trapping them.
It certainly doesn’t feel good, and it doesn’t make my distrust of the pack lessen at all. Even as I understand why they haven’t said anything. They still plan on choosing Isadora publicly, and they don’t want to say anything to undermine that.
And yet, they can’t seem to understand my continued reluctance.
It's been almost a week since our conversation at the cafe. A week in which I don’t avoid them, but I don’t necessarily seek them out. I spend a good portion of my time sketching designs, finalizing what pieces I want to produce and put out for sale.
We’re doing just a small launch to start only a handful of casual dresses and active wear. The two things I’ve become known for thanks to my stint on the show.
If they sell well, I’ll expand the collection.
So I sketch and plan and design, dreaming of this being what I do every day. Haven and the Calloways have been so supportive of every move I’ve made, every decision, every design choice, I’m not sure how I’ll ever repay them.
But that’s the beauty of people who truly love you, they want to help and they don’t expect anything in return.
I haven’t told the Ashbourne pack about my business.
I’m not certain why.
Maybe because if I voice it to them, if I tell them I’m building a business here, they’ll take it as a sign that they’ve lost me and then they’ll leave again.
Which I realize with some surprise I really don’t want. I don’t want to go back to feeling sick all the time. I don’t want to wake up feeling achy and feverish and needing to smile and lie and say, ‘I’m fine,’ ‘I’m feeling much better,’ ‘today is better than yesterday’.
More than that, though, I like them. That’s always been the case. It goes deeper than just the fact that we’re fated mates. More than that they are apparently the other parts of my soul. I just like them, enjoy spending time with them.
Which makes it hard to keep my distance, to keep those walls as high as I can in the name of protection.
I spend most of my time resisting the urge to just fall into them, to face the very real threat that I might just die if they leave me again, to make peace with it, and suck up whatever time I have left with them.
But I don’t want to die any more than I want to go back to feeling sick.
So I don’t avoid them, and I don’t seek them out, instead focusing on me, on what I need to do once the queen demands they return to Bravonne.
I need to make sure I have something after they leave me in tatters, something else I can focus on. Something just for me.
So we exist in the world together, a solar system of planets, revolving around one another. Though it seems more that they revolve around me, the sun in their universe. The thing which they orbit around.
They don’t push to restart the conversation I abandoned in that cafe days ago. They don’t pressure me to go to Bravonne with them. They just… are.
Reminding me of their presence at every turn.
Breakfast on the counter for me next to the perfect cup of coffee when I go downstairs in the morning.
Fresh bouquets of flowers delivered every day.
Drawings of me while I sketch clothing designs slipped under my bedroom door, letting me know at least one of them was watching.
Attending every single yoga class I teach, lingering in the back of the room out of the way like I asked them to on that first day.
Their constant presence is soothing, calming, healing and… eroding.
Each day a little more of my resistance wears away, I start to see what it could be like if I were to go with them.
Only it might be even better, because we could be closer, spend evenings cuddled on the couch watching movies or embroiled in a Mario Kart competition.
We could dance in the kitchen while making dinner together.
I could curl up in their laps while I sketch and just let them hold me.
And maybe I’m weak, or maybe it’s just my omega nature, but I find myself imagining it more and more, fooling myself into believing it would be good… manageable. Even if they bond someone else.
After all, I would have them, wouldn’t I? Some small part of them is better than none.
Isn’t it?
So when Court pokes his head into the living room of the Calloway pack house and invites me to a pool party, I… don’t say no.
Even though I know it’s not going to be a party, so much as the six of us, hanging out intentionally for the first time in days.
Piers is in the kitchen when I come down, dressed in a light pink bikini and a pair of cut-off shorts I stole from Haven.
He smiles when he sees me, his eyes going heated as they skim over every inch of bare skin on display. “You look gorgeous, little bird.”
I finger the end of my messy fishtail braid and pretend like the compliment doesn’t make my chest get all warm. “Thank you.” I move over to the island and take in the sheer volume of food. “Did you make all this?”
He shakes his head. “No, some of it we ordered in.” He looks up at me almost shyly. “We wanted to make sure you had access to all of your favorites.”
And they really did. Everything that I’ve ever eaten and hummed over is here.
“Can I help?”
He pauses in sprinkling cilantro over the delicious looking steak tacos. “You’re meant to be the guest of honor, sunshine.”
I shift on my bare feet, eyes moving over to the glittering pool and the four alphas lounging in the water. Well, Forsythe is lounging. Court is splashing, trying to get Grieves and Thayer to join him in some kind of game.
All of them are bare chested and sun soaked and look far too good for my own good.
I’m a little worried about what might happen if I go out there right now.
Like, I might just strip off my bikini, hold open my arms and beg them to just fucking take me.
And I’m definitely not ready for that.
So I tell Piers honestly. “I’m not quite ready for that honor. Not… I just need a minute.”
He gives me a knowing look and jerks his chin at a cutting board with a carton of strawberries next to it. “Those need to be cut for the strawberry shortcake.”
Giving him a grateful smile for giving me a reprieve, I get to work, focusing on the task, while Piers hums along absently next to me, putting the finishing touches on the food.
His phone buzzes. His humming cuts off as he pulls it out and looks at it. The spoon he’d been holding clatters to the counter, splattering some kind of green sauce on the marble.
“Piers?”
“Hm?”
“Is-is everything okay?”
“Isadora,” he says distractedly, making everything in my body go cold, and the urge to retreat, retreat, retreat, grows.
I push it aside and keep hulling the strawberries as calmly as I can, even as my scent sours. “What about her?”
“She claimed me for the pack,” Piers says, a little furrow in his brow as he stares at his phone.
My fingers tighten on the knife. “What?” I ask, dread creeping into my stomach while the need to flee only grows.
He points at the screen and reads out loud. “The Ashbourne Pack and I have shared a long history of friendship, loyalty, and mutual respect. Our relationship has grown steadily and privately over many years.
“I remain deeply committed to the future we have discussed, one grounded in stability, shared purpose, and devotion to Bravonne. I am ever committed to every member of the Ashbourne Pack. That includes Piers Harland.
“Piers has always been an integral part of my vision of the future. His place within the pack has never been in question, and I look forward to the day when our bond—all of our bonds—may be recognized openly and without misinterpretation.
“I am excited for the chapter ahead and for the opportunity to build something enduring, together.’”
He glances up at me like he’s waiting to see what my reaction is going to be, but I’m more interested in how he’s feeling, if this changes anything for him. So I say slowly, “I see.” Even as a part of my heart crumbles to dust.
His fingers tighten on his cell. “I can’t bloody believe her!
For years she’s treated me like the redheaded stepchild, like I’m only the pack’s personal assistant and now she pulls this?
Claiming me publicly? Giving us the ability to be together in public?
” He stares down at the phone, like he can’t quite believe this is the case.
Like he wasn’t just given everything he’s ever wanted.
My heart gives a painful thump in my chest. I should be happy for him. This is what I’ve wanted, for Piers to be able to be loved in the open. For the pack to be able to show him off in the way that he’s always deserved.
I swallow and look away from him. “Does this… I know it’s not the biggest issue right now, but does this change things for you?”
“What?” He’s still staring distractedly at his phone.
“I mean, she’s all but given you permission, right?
And that would have come from the queen.
Isadora wouldn’t dare make a statement like that, claiming you as a member of the Ashbourne pack without her consent.
They’ll be able to love you in the open now,” I say softly and his eyes fly to me.
It's selfish but I can’t stop the words from coming.
“Does that change things for you… with me?”