Episode 29 Public Displays of Peppers #2
My cheeks flare pink and I shake my head. “We’re not… That isn’t… We’re just watching a ballet together.”
Tristan pats my hand. “Of course you are, dear.” He turns and scans the crowd. “Petal is here somewhere…”
“Here!” A bright voice calls as a hand waves in the air. She’s so short that I can’t make her out beyond that slim hand. “I’m here.”
“Ah, yes, there’s our intrepid poblano.” I watch as Petal pushes her way through the crowd of theater goers and journalists, a trail of apologies and ‘excuse me’s flowing in her wake.
She emerges from the crowd pink cheeked and pink haired at the base of the stairs and this time, the guards part immediately to let her through.
Tristan makes a scoffing sound, and Petal twinkles up at him.
“What, they can tell I’m not a threat, while you are all chaos demon energy.
Of course they won’t let you near the prince without permission.
” She bobs into a quick curtsey and tips her head.
“Your Highness.” And then she throws herself at me to wrap me in a cherry blossom and strawberry shortcake scented hug. “I’m so mad at you!”
“Yes, I am as well,” Tristan sniffs. “I just forgot momentarily in the thrill of seeing you again.”
I frown, pulling away from Petal. “You are? Why? What did I do?” I’m already mentally scanning over what I said in every confessional I ever gave for the show, wondering if I said something about either of them that would make them upset at me.
“You’ve apparently been in Bravonne for weeks, and we had no idea.” Oh, is that all?
“Well, I wouldn’t say weeks.”
“More than one is weeks, jalapeno.”
I nod. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“It's our fault,” Piers quickly steps in to try to ease the situation. “We were trying to keep-”
“Her hidden?” Tristan asks with an arched brow and his arms folded over his chest.
“No!” Court protests. “No, of course not.”
“Safe,” Grieves finishes. “We were trying to keep her safe. We weren’t sure how people were going to react to her presence here and were taking it slower introducing her to them.”
They both blink at him, likely because he never actually says this much to… well, anyone but me and his pack. “So you do talk in more than grunts,” Tristan says eventually.
“She would have been safe with us,” Petal tells my bruiser earnestly. “We would never let anything happen to her. We adore her, you know.”
The look Grieves gives her is a cross between amused and incredulous. “I believe you would have tried to keep her safe, but there’s no guarantee you would have been successful.”
Petal harumphs and crosses her arms over her chest in a mimic of Tristan. “Yes, well, at least she wouldn’t have been cooped up in that stuffy palace all alone.”
“Hey, what are we? Chopped liver?” Court protests.
“We weren’t at the palace,” I tell them, wanting to reassure them, but instead they let out outraged noise.
“Not at the palace! It's worse than I thought,” Tristan wails dramatically, a hand pressed to his forehead. “They really were keeping you a secret!”
I frown and motion to the theater. “Does this look like they’re keeping me a secret?
We’re here together. There were at least twenty photographers out front who saw us arrive together.
And,” I glance around and lean forward like I’m telling them a secret.
It feels like one even though the rest of the world will know in less than a half hour.
“They told the reporters that they never plan on seeing Isadora again.”
“Like ever again?” Petal questions, sounding awed by the notion.
“Ever again.”
She squeals and hugs me again. While Tristan is still eyeing the pack with distrust. When the pink haired omega releases me, he hugs me too, murmuring, “I’m happy for you, jalapeno. You deserve the best,” in a surprisingly earnest tone for the male omega.
He pushes me away from him. “I haven’t forgiven you though, and I won’t until we’ve had a proper brunch and a chat, yeah?”
I shrug. “Fair enough. I’m in town for another few days-”
“What? Only a few days?”
“My best friend is having a baby in a couple weeks.”
Tristan looks down at his stomach and then over to Petal’s flat tummy. “You’re mistaken, jalapeno. Neither of us are pregnant.”
I laugh. “My best American friend, Haven, is having a baby. I promised her I would be there for it. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” I glance around. “I don’t have my phone on me-” Piers thrusts a familiar cell in front of me. “Or I guess I do. Thank you, dimples.”
“Dimples,” Tristan mouths, rolling his eyes. “God, you're adorable and I despise you for it.”
That pulls another laugh from me. They seem to come easier now, like I’m healing. Like I’m… free.
I unlock my phone and push it in Petal’s direction. “Put your number in there. And we’ll set up a time to get together before I leave.”
She dutifully taps at my screen. “And you’ll be back, right? I mean with the Ashbournes being your pack, you’d have to be.”
I’m not sure what to say to that, my first thought is yes, of course I’ll be back. Like I told Thayer days ago, it feels like the assumption is that we’ll live here, and I’ll give up everything to be with them.
But we also haven’t discussed it. They’ve only just told the world they aren’t going to be with Isadora. They’ve only just told me they aren’t going to be with her.
“We haven’t figured out where our home base is going to be,” Forsythe says, smoothly stepping up next to me and sliding his hand to the small of my back.
I’m glad he doesn’t just outright agree that I will be coming back to Bravonne.
Today has been a lot. “But wherever it is the both of you will be more than welcome to visit.”
“Just not too much,” Court says happily, sliding his hand to my ass and squeezing. “And we’ll need warning. Lots of warning, so we can be sure not to be knot deep-”
My hand claps over his grinning mouth. “Pretty boy.”
Tristan grins. “Don’t worry, jalapeno. Petal and I are aware of what happens between omegas and alphas.” He nudges the pink haired woman next to him. “You wouldn’t think it to look at her, but this one is actually a massive slut.”
If anyone else said that about…anyone, I would get all up in arms and tell them not to use that word, but this is Tristan and he sounds downright proud and fond when he calls Petal that.
Petal’s cheeks go almost the same shade of pink as her hair, but she just shakes her head. “You’re just jealous that Javier wanted my number last night and not yours.”
Tristan snorts. “Of course I am! That man was a G.O.D. God, Pet.”
My brows arch as they bicker, like they’ve forgotten that we’re here, that the crown prince of Bravonne is standing in front of them, patiently waiting for them to finish. And god, it makes me laugh. They are exactly the same and I love them for it.
Most of that damn show was only tolerable because I had them.
Their discussion cuts out when I lunge forward and wrap my arms around both of them squeezing them tight. “God, I missed both of you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch. I’ll be better about it.”
Petal’s little hand strokes my back. “You had a lot going on, Ren.”
“Of course you forgot about us, what with finding out that the Ashbourne pack is your fated pack and getting sick and battling Isadora for dominance.”
I laugh at the way he just lays it all out there like that. “That is true.”
The overhead lights flicker a warning for everyone to find their seats. “We should go,” Petal says, taking a step back and lacing her arm through Tristan’s. “Our box is on the other side of the theater from yours.”
“Maybe we should just join-”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tris,” Petal says, squinting up at him while he looks down at her with the softest expression I’ve ever seen on his face.
“I resent the implication that I’m being ridiculous.”
Petal snorts. “It wasn’t an implication. You are ridiculous. Obviously, Ren needs some private time with her pack.”
He gasps in mock outrage. But she only laughs. “Don’t worry,” Petal says, dragging Tristan away. “We’ll find them after.”
I watch as they make their way back down the stairs and into the crush of people, worried about their safety for reasons I’m not entirely sure of, but then two of the guards at the bottom of the stairs break off and close around my friends.
I glance at Grieves, standing a step below me, knowing that was his doing. I don’t even know when he managed to arrange it, but it was undoubtedly him.
“Thank you,” I murmur to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“‘Course, bubbles,” he sighs, contentedly. “Anything for you.”
“Are they…?” Court asks, as we watch them wind through the crowd.
“No.” I shake my head immediately, but then I think about the soft look on Tristan’s face. “Well… I don’t think so, at least. But maybe?”
“Well, I’m thrilled we got that settled.”
“Shall we find our seats?” Forsythe asks, with a hand at my waist.
“Yes, let’s do that. I want to get somewhere private.”
“Oh, really, Pix?” Court drawls, as we continue up the stairs. “Why would that be? Do tell. Something naughty I hope.”
I snort a laugh and shake my head. “In your dreams, pretty boy.”
“Oh, Pixie,” he purrs, moving just a bit closer. “You have no idea. The things I dream about doing to you would make your toes curl and your cheeks flush. Mm... Yes, just like that.”
“Stop teasing our omega,” Thayer growls, shouldering Court out of the way. “You’re making her perfume and we’re possessive. No one smells her arousal but us.”
My cheeks heat even more at the casual mention of my arousal.
Even though I know I have nothing to be embarrassed about.
It's only natural. I’m with my fated pack for pete’s sake, of course I’m going to get all hot and bothered when they so much as look at me the right way.
And of course my omega is going to broadcast her willingness to rut when that happens.
I am not the first omega to perfume in public, and I certainly won’t be the last.
But I can’t help but love the way Thayer’s claimed my perfume for himself, for his pack, and no one else.
“That isn’t really helping, professor,” I mutter to him.
And he chuckles low and deep, bordering on filthy. “Oh, I know, killer. Your omega loves being claimed by us, doesn’t she?”
There’s a gasp from somewhere down below, and for a moment, I think it’s a reaction to me, to my perfume. But then there’s an alarmed cry. Thayer’s eyes widen with panic before he shoves me to the floor, as Grieves shouts, “Gun!”