Chapter 33
Gabriel
It had been a long day. And it wasn’t over quite yet. I was anxious with the thought, pacing the hallway outside the main ballroom, rumpling my dress shirt. Mother would be annoyed when I slipped back in.
It was hard to place my own annoyance, most of it revolving around Sophia. She hadn’t done anything wrong exactly. If anything, she’d proven in the short two days since the Hunt that I had, in fact, chosen correctly.
She was calm, composed, but approachable. Already, members of the Kingdom Pack were gushing about her. And she was beautiful; petite. She carried herself well. Tonight, she wore a forest green gown that was understated but highlighted her best features.
I glanced back through the partially open doors and saw her speaking with one of the betas who was involved with city planning for the Kingdom. She laughed, and even that was a beautiful sound. A chunk of honey blonde hair fell from her updo, and she moved it behind her ear gracefully.
I sighed and turned to pace some more but was cut short by Charles.
“My King,” he said evenly, hands behind his back.
“Not now, Charles,” I growled, stepping around him and continuing to pace.
A servant passed with a tray of cream puffs and scampered quickly by as I glared.
“I was just coming to make sure you weren’t going to run away, or perhaps throw yourself from one of the higher towers.”
I shot him a glare, but slowed down, self-consciously straightening my cuffs.
“Our towers aren’t even that high, Charles. A wolf wouldn’t die from that fall.”
He shrugged. “Maim yourself, then, maybe.”
Another glance back into the ballroom told me the music was starting up again slowly, someone with their back to me asking my mother to dance, Sophia starting to look for me surreptitiously.
“I’m not going to off myself.” The growl was unintentional but made my point. Charles looked mollified.
“Good. I would hate for our leader to be outdone by a simple marriage.”
“Why have you never married, Charles? You’re, what—in your early fifties now?”
The servant glanced at me, his face impressively impassive still.
“I’ve lived my life to serve you and your father, sir.”
It was a deflection, and a somewhat obvious one. I rolled my eyes and he sighed, loosening his posture a bit.
“If you’re really asking, Gabriel—are you really asking?”
I nodded before he continued.
“Similar to your own situation, I never really felt the draw to find a mate. It’s actually very common in the Sturgeon Pack, so I don’t worry about it too much.”
My eyes narrowed as I considered him. He wasn’t an unattractive man. Small in stature, but he had a good face, a strong jaw.
“You’ve never felt connected to anyone then?”
He considered it briefly, but then shook his head. “No. I suppose I always feel a sort of detachment. I’ve considered taking up a mate just for propriety, of course, but it’s my belief that it’s a wasted effort if there’s no real connection with anyone.”
I nodded, eyes far away as I considered his words. Charles searched my face.
“Of course, I’m only an omega, my King. So that choice doesn’t quite matter for me—doesn’t affect others.”
He said it lightly, but the meaning behind the words was clear. It was my responsibility to mate whether I felt drawn to anyone or not.
But what Charles didn’t understand, as he nodded toward the door and I followed a few steps behind him back toward the dancing, was that I did feel drawn to someone.
It just wasn’t the woman who was sitting and waiting for me to return to the festivities.