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My gaze strayed to the grand portrait above Cryssa’s head, seeking the artist’s rendition of nature for a measure of resolve.
“Fucked?”
I’d never heard Cryssa curse before, not in the privacy of our rooms and certainly never in public. The abrasive word grazed my skin, and I sat upright as though at the mercy of a lash.
The curse seemed to linger between us for an eternity. I tried to analyze the word, pry apart the tenor of her voice to grasp how she was feeling. But not so much as the inflection gave her away. She sounded cool, calm, collected—as though she was speaking to the council rather than her intended mate.
Unlike her, I wore my guilt like a cape, wrapping it tightly around my frame.
Finally, Cryssa sighed, breaking the silence.
“I suppose I should’ve known.”
My gaze shot to hers, uncomprehending.
“What do you mean?” I queried.
“I saw the way she looked at you.” Cryssa’s lips flattened into a thin line. “The night of her coronation, I watched you dance. I saw the tension that lingered between the two of you. And her eyes… It was as if she were starving, and you were the only thing that could satisfy her hunger.”
I swallowed, the sound echoing too loudly.
“But I thought,” she continued, pausing for breath. “I thought you weren’t interested in pleasure. I offer it all the time and you push me away… So, I assumed sex didn’t interest you, but companionship did. Some people are like that, and it would have been all right with me. But I was wrong, wasn’t I?”
I scrambled for something to say—anything that would abate the sting of this conversation.
“Youareinterested in pleasure,” Cryssa concluded, straightening her spine as though preparing for battle. “Just not… Not with me.”
“It’s not your fault!” I hastened to assure her, setting the mug down before the trembling in my fingers sent it flying to the carpet.
Cryssa’s smile held just the briefest tinge of sadness.
“I know it’s not my fault, sweet Alpha,” she said, her voice low. “At least up here.”
She tapped the side of her temple with her fingertip.
“But in here,” she said, her palm hovering over her heart. “It feels like I’ve failed.”
“Cryssa…” Her name was strangled on my tongue.
There was much to say—apologies, explanations, regrets. I grappled with the riot of emotions inside me, knowing Cryssa deservedso much morethan I could have ever given her. She deserved a mate who cherished her and worshiped every step she took—someone who would spend their days trying to make her smile.
Not someone who would invite the attention of another Alpha without remorse.
“There is nothing wrong with you, Cryssa. You need to know that. I’ve always cherished you in my life. You’re smart and beautiful and capable…”
“Please, stop.”
“You are the perfect embodiment of an omega—in every way. I know how incredibly lucky I am that you chosemewhen a score of other Alphas were vying for your attention—”
“Enough, Olympia!” She stood too quickly, the edge of her knee bumping against the table between us. The mug tipped over, spilling steaming tea across the wood. “I don’t need your placations!”
Her scent soured in the span of a heartbeat, and she crossed her arms over her chest, gazing down at the splatter of tea. I scented the air, trying not to grimace at the acidity of her pheromones. Disappointment, anger, and regret lingered between us, and I wished I could wash it all away with my words.
I rose, but didn’t step forward.
Every part of Cryssascreamedthat she needed her space, from her taut muscles to the tense edge of her jaw. When she crossed to the far window, I didn’t follow.
The night was still. Nary a breeze rustled the flowers in the grand garden below.
