Chapter 22
Gabriel
The man out in the courtyard—who was he? Why had he touched her like that?
I shoved the plate of Danishes aside, not realizing I’d voiced the questions aloud until Ana answered, glaring at me.
“Judging by the reaction she had to that touch, I’m assuming he’s someone she knows. Someone important.”
“An Autumn omega,” I bit out, fingers tightening on the edge of the table. “A useless, lower class—”
“Really?” Ana interrupted. “You’ve never been one for judging by the hierarchy, Gabe.”
She was right, but I was too blinded by anger right now to admit it. I didn’t like the way the omega had grabbed Valarie’s hand. I didn’t like the way her face had opened up, emotions rippling across it as their eyes locked.
“This is ironic, no?” Ana asked slyly. “You go through all that effort last night to make a point for her. And here she is, seeing someone else already.”
Ana jumped when I slammed a stool to the side, hearing one of the legs crack. But she knew I’d never hurt her or anyone else. She watched me go as I stormed out of the kitchen and back toward my rooms.
Surprisingly, she still wasn’t locking the sitting room window. It didn’t make a sound when I pushed it open that evening and I reminded myself to thank the cleaning staff for that. They were keeping everything well-oiled.
I glanced to the right, checking that Sophia’s door was shut. It was, and no light came from the crack at the bottom. Was she always so early to bed? How boring.
But Valarie’s door was cracked open, and I could see low light there, spilling out onto the hardwood floors. With careful, quiet steps I moved toward it, making my way around the couches and end tables.
Before my hand even touched the knob, she was there. In a long t-shirt that covered her to her thighs, and no pants. Underwear? I wondered briefly, glancing down at her exposed legs.
She colored and backed up, eyes wary.
“What’re you doing here?” she whispered.
I stepped forward, closing in on her so that she had to back further into the room and let me in.
“How did you know it was me?”
She glanced at my chest and then away. “I could smell you.”
She said it quietly, almost sadly, and for a moment, the anger I’d felt since this morning quieted. I had smelled her, too, the moment I stepped through the window—disrupted by the overly floral scent of Sophia and the myriad of products she used. Val smelled real. Natural.
“Valarie?” Sophia said behind me.
Our eyes widened as we stared at each other, frozen with the door still ajar. Her mouth parted but it was a moment before she said anything.
“Yes? Did you need me?” I could hear that the slightly higher pitch was unusual, but Sophia didn’t seem to notice as she continued.
“That gown your mother made—I forgot to check if we had any shoes to match it. Could you take a look, and if we don’t, go down to the shops first thing?”
“Of course!”
We waited for a few moments, listening to Sophia shuffle around in the living quarters. Then her footsteps receded, and her door clicked shut.
Valarie glowered up at me, her chin sharp with defiance. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s too easy for you to get caught.”
“Will you come with me?” I asked abruptly, as surprised by the question as she was.
“What?”
I sighed. “Come with me?”
She visibly swayed, frowning as she considered. Then she nodded and turned away, muttering, “Let me throw on pants quickly.”
I peered out into the living room as she dressed and when I looked back at her, she had on dark leggings that fit every toned muscle in her thighs. I swallowed.
Valarie slipped past me and moved quickly to the window, stepping silently through.
I was mildly impressed. Over the last few days, it had become even more obvious that many of the princesses lacked certain skills, certain habits of our ancestors.
They were noisy, loud, ungainly. But Valarie moved like a wolf.
I tried to imagine how it would translate to her changed form.
What her coat would look like, how she would carry her ears.
Out in the garden, I took her hand and pulled her gently down a side path. The palace was built around this garden.
“All of this,” I told her as we moved quietly, “was for my great grandmother. She lost her sight as she aged, and my great grandfather had the newer parts of the palace built around a garden.”
“I don’t know if I would call this a garden, exactly,” Valarie murmured as she gazed around us. This section was wilder than the flower beds—lilacs, slightly out of control, wound up from the ground. They were long past flowering, but the heavy branches bowed toward us as we ducked under them.
“I didn’t know your great grandmother was blind,” Valarie admitted after a few moments of silence. “I didn’t pay much attention to history in school.”
I grinned back at her. “Don’t worry. It’s not something we like to talk about often. The men in the family, they’re all weak for their females—some packs don’t like that.”
“You don’t seem weak for females.”
It was a low blow, and I winced. But she was right.
So far, I hadn’t felt that romanticism that my father and his father before him had talked about.
I had no urge to settle down with a mate.
That wanderlust was still inside me. I’d just never realized until now how claustrophobic the palace, and my own pack’s territory, felt.
We emerged from a narrow path and ended up standing before an old, old oak tree. Valarie’s eyed widened as she tipped her head back to stare up at the wide spread of branches.
“This—this is the tree.”
“Well, it’s technically the only tree in the garden. The others were taken down, but my great grandfather insisted on keeping this one.”
For the first time since I stepped into her suite, Valarie actually met my eyes. They were clouded, confused, but she blushed slightly.
“What I mean is, this is the tree I keep seeing shadows of. In the morning, the shadows of the leaves wake me up.”
I nodded, understanding. Her hand dropped from mine, and she walked toward the tree, circling the broad trunk. The leaves had changed color and were now tinged yellow, red, and deep brown.
“It’s wonderful,” she said simply, and I could tell by the way she curled her fingers into her palm she was just itching to touch it. But no branches were low enough to climb. Even in my childhood they’d been well over a grown man’s head.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, turning toward me.
The answer stuck in my throat. I didn’t really… know.
Instead of replying, I walked around the other side of the trunk, until we couldn’t see one another, and I kicked at the leaves and dirt. Valarie came jogging around to my side, brow furrowed.
“Do you bring other women here?” she asked bluntly, and my face twisted in anger.
“No! Why would I—no.”
“Well, I heard on the grapevine that you bring them into the gardens,” she scoffed, crossing her arms, and turning back toward the tree. It was only mildly satisfying to see her annoyed.
“Really? You’re the one who said we couldn’t see each other anymore—”
“And we can’t!”
“Because you’re already seeing someone, aren’t you?” I cut in harshly.
Her head whipped around, hair falling out of the loose bun it had been in.
“What are you talking about?”
I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to fight the anger and jealousy rising inside me.
“I saw you today. In the courtyard, with that man—”
She half-scoffed, half-laughed, but didn’t meet my eyes. “That was—was an old friend,” she tried lamely.
“The way you were looking at him didn’t look like he was an old friend.”
She glared at the bitterness in my voice and turned, scuffing her bare feet in the leaves.
“He was more than a friend once,” she muttered, hair obscuring her face. “But he’s not anymore. He’s married.”
I could hear the strain in her voice and immediately regretted bringing this up. It was clear that neither of us were happy with the situation.
“You don’t get it,” Valarie burst out suddenly, turning and sitting on a large rock.
I moved closer, sitting nearby, both of us facing the tree.
“I came here to help Sophia with the Hunt. If she hadn’t asked me, my family would have been out of work for a while.
You don’t know what it’s like.” Her voice rose at the end in frustration, and she glared at me.
“Know what what’s like?”
“Being an omega. You don’t get it. All your life you’ve been here, in the Kingdom, you grew up in a family of leaders.
” Her eyes looked hurt when they met mine again.
“I didn’t have all of this, Gabriel, or even a shot at it.
The best I can do is serve my alpha. And by being with you, I risk all of that.
Sophia might seem sweet—she is sweet—but if she knew what we were doing, how I’d betrayed her, my family would be run out of the pack. ”
“So, you could come here,” I said, frowning.
She laughed at that.
“Come here? What if you choose Sophia? You think she would let me in the same territory as you? And what if you don’t choose her? You think I could live here, with people knowing who I was, what we’ve done?”
It was quiet for a while as I tried to find a solution to all of this. But there really wasn’t one. She was right—the other Hunts had been different. It had been obvious I wasn’t going to choose a mate. But this year, I had to. And I was putting Valarie in harm’s way by pursuing her.
She stood stiffly, fingers rubbing a golden leaf she’d picked up off the ground.
“I should go back,” she said, and without waiting for an answer, headed off the way we’d come, leaving me alone under the oak.