Episode 18 No Kingdom Without Her
Florence
“I’m not leaving her,” Piers says, stubbornly. “The rest of you can go, but I’m… I’m choosing her.”
My stomach bottoms out like it does on a rollercoaster and I sway on my feet.
This can’t happen. Piers can’t stay here. He can’t leave the pack. It’ll ruin him. It’ll ruin them. Their bond. The distance alone will… And he’s on the verge of finally having them the way he deserves.
“No,” I whisper and the conversation stops, all eyes turning to look at me. “No,” I repeat louder. “You can’t-You can’t stay here. You can’t leave them. You love them.”
Piers gives me a frustrated look. “I love you, little bird.”
That draws me up short. It's the first time any of them have told me they love me. “You do?”
A flash of a grin that shows his dimples as he reaches for me, tapping a knuckle under my chin to snap my mouth closed. “I do.”
My entire being sings at this realization. A giddy sensation swells in my chest and a giggle bursts out. One that takes me entirely by surprise. It's been a long time since I’ve felt the urge to laugh. It fades as quickly as it came, dimming under the weight of him leaving his pack to stay with me.
“But the queen has just given your relationship her blessing, Piers. She’s going to accept you into the royal family. You can’t give that up for me.”
Piers runs a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “This might be a case of too little, too late.”
And then I’m swaying again, my eyes rolling. Shit, I think I’m about to faint.
Strong hands grab me, keep me upright, guide me to the couch where I’m pulled onto a lap with a pair of damp arms wrapped around me. “Jesus,” Courtland mutters against my hair. “None of us can leave her. She won’t survive it.”
My eyelids flutter open to find all of them crowded around me, hands against my skin, because they know that helps.
But I can’t afford to let it.
I brush all of their hands away and focus on Piers kneeling in front of me, eyes wide and worried. But also determined. I shake my head. “You can’t stay, Piers. I won’t be the reason you lose your pack.”
His hands slide up my legs from my knees until he’s gripping my thighs. “You aren’t the reason, you’re the fucking prize.” He flicks his gaze at the alphas standing around us, before returning to me. “You were right, that I’m not really a member of the pack.”
Forsythe makes a hurt noise, but Piers doesn’t let him interrupt.
“For years I’ve been fooling myself that if I’m good enough, dedicated enough, protect them well enough, the queen will see my worth.
That they’ll see my worth. But it hasn’t happened.
It won’t happen. The queen has forbidden it.
If I stay with them, I will always be a secondary pack member, always be on the outside.
I love them,” he chokes on the words as he lifts his eyes off of me again.
“I do. I love you all so goddamn much, but this isn’t enough for me.
Just like it’s not enough for Ren. We deserve better. ”
I want to argue. I do.
But it’s not my place. He’s made his decision. And some small part of me… Or not so small, I suppose, is fucking grateful that he’s choosing me. Us.
“Piers,” Courtland chokes out from under me. “You know that’s not how it is. We can claim you now. We love you. We need you.”
The beta shakes his head slowly. “No, you don’t. You never have. It's why you went along with what the queen wanted. Why you hid me away, pretended I wasn’t a part of the pack. Even when you were picking a new pack member. The only person who cared about my opinion was Florence.”
“We cared,” Thayer says.
“Not enough.”
I lift my eyes to Forsythe, who is standing removed from us, hands folded behind his back. Agony in his eyes.
“You should all stay,” he says, holding my gaze. “All of you. I’ll separate from the pack. Thayer, you can be prime and take care of our family. I’ll-” He pauses, hesitates. “I’ll bond with Isadora and the rest of you can bond with Florence.”
“What!” I leap to my feet, nearly knocking Piers on his ass, as the alpha scents around me turn bitter. “No! Absolutely not.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, likely calming his alpha. “Which part exactly do you take issue with, cor mea?”
“All of it.” I growl back. “I’ve seen what breaking a pack bond looks like, Sythe. If you want a firsthand account of it, you can ask Creed. It is fucking painful, like ripping out a part of your soul.”
“Florence, this is for the best. This is the best we can give you. I have a duty to my family. The rest of the pack does as well, through me. If I’m not a part of the pack, the duty is mine and mine alone.”
I stare at him hard. “Duty over love, huh?”
“Always.”
There’s a pricking behind my eyes and I shake my head. “What a fucking joke. What a coward you are.”
“Florence,” Courtland warns. “Don’t say something you’ll regret.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Court,” I say, rounding the table until I’m less than a foot away from the seething alpha. “I won’t regret this.”
“Come on then,” Sythe says, eyes hard. “Let’s hear it, cor mea.” He seems resigned to letting me rage, to letting me spew my angry words at him, and I’m not gonna lie, it takes some of the heat out of me.
“Why won’t you fight for us?” I ask, softly. He doesn’t answer, just stares at me. “If you didn’t marry Isadora, if you picked us instead, picked me instead, what is the worst that could happen?”
“I’d be disowned,” he says back. “Stripped of my title, tossed out of the royal family. My family, cor mea.”
I nod. “Okay, and then what?”
He blinks. “Is that not enough?”
“That’s a lot. I’m just asking, what happens after that? You’re no longer a part of the royal family, you no longer have to follow the orders of the queen, then what?”
I’m trying to see if he can see what I do. How happy he could be if he’s just let go of his duty. He doesn’t want to bond with Isadora. I know that down to the depths of my soul. None of them do. But because of duty, they’re willing to tie themselves irrevocably to someone they don’t even like.
He shakes his head like he can’t even fathom not being tied to the royal family, like he never considered what it might be like to let go of his duty.
“I’m trying to give everyone what they need.” Duty above all else. Always.
“At great cost to yourself and to the rest of your pack. They don’t deserve to lose you.”
His hand reaches toward my face, like he might cup my cheek, but he stops before making contact. “You deserve to have a pack, Florence. You deserve to have your fated pack.”
I swallow and close the distance between his hand and my cheek, pressing into it. “I do,” I agree. “And that includes you.”
“If I did what you’re asking, cor mea, if I went against my family, I would have nothing, Florence. Don’t you get that?”
I flinch and he sees it, all of them do. Grieves releases a low warning growl. Not for me, but for his prime. Remorse is written on the prince’s face. “Ren, that’s not-”
“No, that is what you meant. And I actually- Fuck, I understand, Sythe. I do. You’ve been raised to believe you can only be one thing.
The prince of Bravonne. The spare. The one that has to scramble to keep his grandmother happy.
Become what she needs because if you don’t…
then what the hell would your purpose be, right?
I’ve been there, Forsythe. I lived it. My entire world shattered in one freaking second and suddenly I had no clue who the hell I was anymore.
Without ballet…” I shake my head. “I’m not equating a job with your family.
” Even if dancing wasn’t only a job to me.
It was my passion, everything I’d worked for for years.
I gave up having a pack for it. Gave up creating a family for it.
“I know that’s not even remotely the same thing.
But Jesus, Forsythe, your family is asking you to commit to a lifetime of misery, for what exactly?
So you can stand around like the good little spare you are just hoping and praying that you’ll finally earn your grandmother’s approval? ”
I stare up at him, reach out and curl my fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt and wiggle him the slightest bit, trying to get him to be a little more flexible. Less rigid, even in the way he’s standing.
“So,” I say softly. “Let’s say you don’t do as your grandmother says.
Let’s say you choose me. You choose all of us.
You’re no longer the spare. Your grandmother is disappointed.
Elizabeth is thrilled for you because she loves you.
You aren’t bound by your duty. You don’t have to serve the crown every second of every day.
You have time for hobbies and things you enjoy.
No more press conferences. No more long intolerable meetings.
You can spend your days doing what makes you happy once you figure out what that is.
And at night you get to have us. Piers and me.
Your pack. We can love you out in the open and you can love us in the open. And you can be happy.”
“Without my family. Without my purpose,” He grits out.
“Without your grandmother. And you’ll find a new purpose, Sythe. You just have to be brave enough to try.”
He stares at me for a long minute and I think maybe I’ve gotten through to him, maybe he’s finally starting to realize that he could have this, could have me and his pack, if only he would reach for us.
But then he gives a sharp shake of his head, squaring his shoulders and clasping his hands behind his back.
“I will leave the pack and bond with Isadora. That should actually make my grandmother even happier. She’s never liked that Elizabeth and I both formed packs.”