This will go from,“Aww, cute, the prince and a pop star are dating,”to doubling-down on the fact we’re an alpha and omega super fast. Not that Kellen probably doesn’t already get enough of that in his life.
Kellen sits up, sets his drink on the end table, and gives me a grave look. “Of course. When you didn’t bring it up with my parents, I assumed that this was not public knowledge.”
I shift in my seat a little. “It’s not private, it just doesn’t exist. It’s career suicide if discovered. I’m not about to gamble the last decade of work on a pop culture moment. So, yeah, secrecy oath. Sworn?”
“Sworn,” says Kellen without hesitation.
Elliot nods once. “Your secret is safe.”
I let out a heavy breath. “Great. Now that we’re all oathbound, we can talk about this ‘pack’ situation.”
It gets quiet again. I can practically taste the unspoken thoughts in the air, floating just behind the scent of sandalwood, ocean, cherries, and burning wood. Scent-matches are supposed to be rare. Like, lottery-winner rare. So the fact that I am not just compatible with these three butscent-matched? That’s… what’s the opposite of a jackpot?
Nolan speaks first. “I want to make clear that none of this changes my responsibilities to you, Piper. As your bodyguard, my first duty is your safety, not—” He cuts off and glances at Kellen. “Not courtship, or whatever narrative they want to spin, or may want to if they discover the truth about the four of us.”
Elliot actually smiles, small and fleeting. “It’s not a requirement, Piper. Scent-matching, pack-bonding, whatever you want to call it—socially, it’s an expectation, but biologically, you can ignore it. You’re not obligated to—” He waves a hand in the air. “—bond.”
Easy to say before I’m in heat or any of them are in rut.
“I’m aware,” I say. “Which is why I’m setting boundaries now. No pack, no bond, just a working arrangement until we’re out of this mess.”
Kellen looks wounded for half a second, then covers it with a tight smile. “If that’s what you want, Piper.”
I throw up my hands. “It’s not about what I want, it’s about what will keep me from getting ruined in the press, and what will keep you from being disowned. Not to mention, we’ve known each other for, what, a day? Elliot and Nolan don’t even like each other, let alone?—”
“We can work together,” Elliot interrupts, glancing at Nolan. “If it means protecting our clients.”
“Clients,” Nolan echoes, but there’s no venom in it. He almost sounds relieved.
Therein lies the issue.
We’ve discovered a rare bond but won’t acknowledge it further because Kellen and I areclients, and I’m meant to be on a stage, not at home with lots of kids running around. Kellen’s life would be the least affected. An alpha prince? It’s basically mandatory they get assigned an omega if they don’t find one.
Kellen chews his lip. “I don’t want to be rude, but can we talk about the logistics? I don’t know how long we’re supposed to bedoing this. My parents are already drafting public statements for all manner of milestones.”
“Until the press dies down, I assume,” says Nolan. “Then we can quietly end the arrangement.”
“Or loudly,” I say fairly sarcastically. “Depends how dramatic we’re feeling.”
Elliot stands up and moves to refill his glass of water. He walks with a stiffness I can’t ignore. “Perhaps we should outline the terms of this arrangement. Public interactions, joint appearances, media obligations?—”
“Like a contract?” I’m unable to suppress a laugh. “I’m surprised Raelynn didn’t already demand that, honestly.”
Kellen’s ears turn pink. “That actually makes sense. We should be clear on what’s expected.”
“Fine.” I reach for a pad of stationary from the side table, something with an embossed royal crest and probably a tracking chip in the paper. “Let’s make a list.”
Nolan moves away from the window for the first time and sits opposite me. He gives a polite but perfunctory nod to Elliot, who remains standing. Kellen pulls a decorative pillow onto his lap, probably to keep from fidgeting his hands.
I uncap the pen. “First rule: No accidental pack-bonding.”
Kellen shakes his head. “How do we avoid that, exactly?”
I shrug. “No interactions beyond necessary.”
My inner omega screams at the idea of this. At pushing away scent matches. She doesn’t understand the freedom of not being bonded or in a pack. She just wants to be claimed and bound, to serve her purpose.
Elliot offers the next rule. “No physical affection in private. In public, as required for the charade.”
