Page 69 of The Princess and the Pack

Ivy nods, lifting up on her toes to bless my cheek with the soft press of her lips. “Soon, I think, Cillian. I’m trying.”

It’s so much more than I’ve earned, but I cherish the small hope she’s left at my feet. Just as I savor the warmth—the radiant resonance—that lingers where her lips touched.

It’s all I have to hold me over as she leaves the comfort of my embrace, taking my heart along with her.

Sloan is maddening in his perpetual belief in me, and his annoying habit of being correct. I’m lucky beyond words to have friends like him and Tiernan—and the royal pains in my arse that are the McKenna triplets.

I rushed from the north wing of the castle in search of my omega. I don’t want this wound I’ve caused to fester for a second longer. I should have asked where she’d be, but my feet led me, just as Fate did, directly to her.

My queen exits the throne room, a frown upon her pretty face. I can’t have that. Time to fix this mess once and for all.

“Your Majesty!” I call, walking toward her with purpose. This is too public a setting for all the things I need to say, but urgency wins out over practicality. “May I have a moment?”

“Of course, Lord Rafferty.” Her pretty blue eyes shine with amusement.

The moment I’m close enough to scent her, I breathe easier. Her presence alone is a miracle—a healing essence from the gods themselves, made just for me.

Ivy ambles beside me, a tentative smile on her lips. Our fingers nearly touch, the tension between us thrumming as though we are alone in her nest. I was so stupid to ruin our moment earlier—still relying on the walls I’d built to keep me safe from further pain.

But Ivy isn’t the arbiter of my heartbreak. She’s my salvation—the one who heals my hurts. Just as I’ll be for her. She’ll never need to worry about my loyalty. I’m so fucking obsessed with her—I’d rather cut out my own heart than ever betray her.

No matter what my family took from me by means of my self-worth, I wished against all odds for a great love. One that didn’t leave me empty. I know now that wish was granted when Ivy came into my world. She was always meant to be mine—to renew my tired spirit and bring me back to life.

The moment I scented her, my stone-covered heart pounded with an insistent need to be near her.

To keep her.

To surrender.

Truly, she is everything I dared to dream for in the dark.

“I’m sorry, love,” I breathe.

“As am I.” Her words are hushed, careful of any onlookers roaming these halls.

“Ivy, no. You don’t need to be sorry,ever. I was callous when all you did was give me a chance. It’s just—I’m terrified to want you as badly as I do.”

Ivy’s fingers brush against mine in a secret reassurance that she’s here with me. Her scent is sweet and bursting with ardor. “I’d rather die than hurt you, Oran,” she whispers.

“That makes two of us.” I smile, trailing the tips of my fingers across the soft skin of her wrist. This delicate dance of sweet words and soft touches in the open is a thrill, but I can’t wait for the day when I no longer have to conceal my affection.

My mate halts, turning with purpose to face me. “I’ve thought about you so often,” she admits. “Every night since I left, you visited me in my dreams. But I need to know if you truly want this. A pack—me?”

Gods, my heart aches for the way she regards me with such openness. I wish I could pull her into my arms and kiss any remnants of doubt from her sweet mouth.

“Omega,” I growl, angry with myself for having planted such questions in her mind. “You have invaded every thought—every dream—since the second I was graced with your beauty. All I want is to love you for the rest of my days. And to share your heart with Cillian and Sloan? I’m honored beyond measure. So if this pack is what you want, you have us.”

Precious tears well up in her ocean eyes as she steps forward. I think she might very well embrace me despite the lingering courtiers. I’ll let her—I’ll never deny her anything again.

But just as I feel the heat of her body, a familiar,unwelcomesight cuts across the hall.

The bastard who sired me sure knows how to kill a mood. I’ve been avoiding him since the royal wedding, but it seems he’s not yet done trying to ruin my fucking life.

I halt Ivy’s movement, a soft touch on her shoulder as I look over the top of her head. Best not to take your eyes off a circling predator. “Wait here,” I say, as sternly as I can.

Ivy’s scent quickly sours, and I fucking hate myself. I just promised I’d never hurt her, and I’ve done just that. But this trust is so tenuous, and I’m not about to have my father flaunt another omega under her nose. Ivy deserves more than that. And this close to her heat? I don’t want to upset the delicate balance of her emotions.

“Oran?” she asks, confused. She reaches for my wrist, but I pull away.

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