Page 62 of The Princess and the Pack

Such a sweet sound coming from her sinful lips. Goddess, the things I would do to her if she would have me. Our night in the study doesn’t begin to cover all the ways I’ve wanted to worship her.

I’m no angel, unlike Cillian. I didn’t have the foresight to wait. But what I can offer her is dedication. I’ll learn every single thing she likes,every fucking thing, so as to bring her pleasure.

Ivy shuffles closer, so we’re almost nose to nose, her delicate hand wrapped in mine as she stares into my eyes. There’s sadness lingering there, but no more tears for me to dry. I hate that she’s had to shed so many these last few days.

“How are you feeling, love?” I ask, trying not to focus too much on her mouth. If I keep staring, I’ll do something stupid like kiss her, when what she needs is a compassionate ear.

Sloan would be so much better at this than me.

“A bit shocked, if I’m honest.”

“Understandably so. It’s a lot to take in. When Cillian first told me, I wondered how so many people could be so ignorant to this.”

She offers me a half-smile—I’ll take it. Any way to connect with her is a way I’ll gladly accept.

“It breaks my heart. I always thought my mother died because my father was a terrible, philandering liar, and it killed her to know she’d never have his love or his loyalty. But to learn this?”

Ah, I see now her sensitivity to lying. If it’s what she’s come to expect from alphas, it probably hurt her to be proven right.

“Appears as though I’m not the one with an arsehole for a father,” I chuckle, though there’s not much humor there. I would never want Ivy to have to go through what I did. Or anyone, for that matter.

She hums, letting go of my hand to trace the freckles along the bridge of my nose. My skin tingles where she touches, sparks flying with each sweet caress. “My father was too busy doing anythingotherthan raising us. The only ones he cared for in any capacity were Hawthorn and Sage. His heir and his spare.”

I nod, understanding too well. “And your mother?”

She shrugs. “Resentful. Indifferent. My sister Rose was more of a mother to me than she was.”

I stop her tracing, grabbing her by the wrist to place a kiss on her open palm. My poor sweet girl. Growing up without the love she deserves.

“My mother too,” I offer. “My father...well, my father only ever found me good for one thing.”

Her brow furrows. “What’s that?”

“Making alpha heirs. Marrying whoever he says, even if it’s a short and loveless life.”

Ivy’s scent sours, and I want to kick myself. Of course, she doesn’t want to hear about the possibility of her alpha being with someone else.

“I refused, love. Told him I’d never marry anyone he chose for me. I always wanted more than that sad, empty life our station demands.”

Her frown lifts, relief on her pretty face instantaneous, and I’m more than a little prideful that she feels so territorial over me.

“Do you think people will accept us?” she asks. “Our...pack?”

That isthequestion, isn’t it?

“I wish I could say yes. But, I’m certain it won’t be a popular choice with everyone.”

Ivy’s silent. Her soft breaths fan across my face, her big, blue eyes still transfixed on me. She’s so open, like this—offering me insight into her heart.

“Do you care whateveryonethinks?” she asks.

“I don’t give a shite whatanyonethinks. Only you.”

My omega’s cheeks are so very telling of her feelings, always blushing pretty pink when she’s flustered. “Why?”

“Why what?” I respond, smiling.

“Why does my opinion matter so much?”

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