EXCLUSIVE: PIPER SUMNER—SECRET OMEGA?! Medical records leaked!
ROYAL ROMANCE IN SHAMBLES—PRINCE KELLEN’S ‘MATE’ HIDES TRUE NATURE
SHOCKING TWIST: POP STAR OMEGA REJECTS ALPHA SUITORS—HERE’S WHY
And my favorite, for sheer efficiency:
SUMNER FAKED HER STATUS: Fans Betrayed!!!
My mouth goes dry. There’s a sour, chemical taste behind my tongue. I’m so busy not breathing that it takes me a second to realize Kellen’s moved next to me, eyes wide.
His voice is hushed and heartbreakingly soft. “Piper?”
I shove my phone at him, hard enough that he fumbles it. “Guess we made the news.”
He reads for maybe a second before his jaw snaps shut with a click. “Fuck.” He glances at Elliot and Nolan. “Who the hell leaked this?”
Nolan starts pacing the length of the living room in the manor estate. “Do not answer anything. Not media, not DMs. Not even Raelynn.”
I nod and then toss the phone toward a lone, unoccupied chair twenty feet away. I want nothing to do with it or the information it brings.
Kellen takes out his own phone and starts scrolling faster than I can process, but I know the story by heart: A “source” leaked medical documents showing my omega status, with handy screenshots and hospital badges blurred but absolutely real. Every tabloid in the hemisphere wants to know why I “lied” and whether I used my music to “seduce” an entire royal family.
Because of course.
“Does Raelynn know?” I croak, voice barely above a whisper.
Nolan’s mouth twitches. “If she does, she’s already prepping a denial.”
I rub my nose, trying to block the scents filling the room. Nolan’s anxious burning wood smoke makes my eyes water, while Kellen’s ocean-pine hits the back of my throat like I’ve swallowed cologne. My hand flies to my neck. The cherry-vanilla I’ve spent years hiding is now seeping from my skin, sweet and unmistakable. Kellen’s nostrils flare. Nolan won’t look at me.
Kellen pockets his phone and then takes my hands in his. “If you want to deny or spin this, I’ll help you. We’ll help you.”
“We’ll do more than help,” Nolan says, turning from the window. “We’ll burn them to the ground.”
I want to laugh, but my brain is playing four chess games with itself and all of them end in stalemate. “Wecan’tjust ignore this.”
“Technically,” Kellen says, “I can do whatever I want. I’m not the one with a new album and tour coming up.”
He means it as a joke, but it’s like his reminder is the catalyst for more notifications as they storm off my phone. This time I even receive a couple FaceTime attempts. I ignore all of it, staring instead at the note I’d been scribbling for my next song:please just let me breathe for a minute.
How apt.
Elliot sits down on my other side. The faint scent of sandalwood and leather drifts from him, and I find myself counting my breaths—in for four, out for four—matching the steady rise and fall of his chest beside me. “We have to assume the palace already knows.”
“They’re probably the source,” Nolan growls.
It’s a decent bet. My entire relationship with Kellen has been a series of negotiated peaces and plausible denials, each one more fragile than the last. But this is different. This is medical records. This is years of perfectly calibrated ambiguity evaporating in an hour.
I blink hard. “I’m not ashamed to be an omega.” Which is true. But it was one secret of my personal life I was really rather hoping to keep.
Kellen cups my cheek, and even though he looks ready to tear someone’s throat out, he smiles. “Good, you shouldn’t be.”
Nolan’s phone rings. His posture stiffens when he glances down at it. “We’ve got company. Kellen’s parents have sent more Ravenwood Shield to secure the property.”
Elliot checks his own phone, then nods to Kellen. “Royal comms are blowing up. Your father wants to talk.”
“Of course he does,” Kellen mutters. “Can’t have the prince consorting with a ‘predatory omega.’”
