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“And I thank the gods every day for Tahlia and her ribbons.” I winked.

“Ajax.” Her cheeks heated, but the comment pleased her. Her scent turned thick and sweet.

I nudged her into the warm water and washed the mask off.

“Whatever you choose to do, be it filmmaker, sex worker, or omega of leisure, our pack will support you.”

I helped Tully out of the bath and wrapped her in an oversized, warm towel. I brushed my lips against the scent gland on her neck. My alpha instincts demanded I paint myself on her skin.

“You don’t mean that.” Tully let out a wary titter.

“I do. It’s just like this gala. You’re frightened to attend and be judged. But who are you trying to prove yourself to? Show up foryou. Not out of honor or legacy, but because the Hartlock name is yours now.”

Tully shook her head. “But it’s a galaforEsta Hartlock. Celebrating her accomplishments, and then there’s me, just there by luck of being born.”

“The gods work in mysterious ways. Your place is valid, Tully, even if it looks different from what you expect.” I roved my gaze over her face, wanting my words to sink in.

Not because of the prince, or for the success of the gala. Purely because I wanted her free from her perception of herself. Tainted by so many other people’s opinions. There was a twinge in my stomach. Would I be pushing her so hard if I didn’t know a prince requested her presence?

“You always know the right things to say. I can see why you excelled in debate.”

I shot her a smile, and we wandered out into the nest.

“We could stay in here tonight, watch something easy and get take out?”

Tully hesitated before shaking her head. I followed her back to her room, where the champagne dress hung. This time, the sight didn’t make her tremble with fear.

“Don’t let your last name take away from how special you are. You would be a vision in this dress,” I murmured to the shell of her ear, and dropped a kiss to punctuate the statement.

A dull ache spread in my chest, but I shook it off. Tully chewed on her bottom lip and dipped her head in a tentative nod. So brave, my girl.

“Promise to look after me.”

I rested my hands on her shoulders. “Tully, you’ll have to pry me away from you, I mean it.”

Her eyes met mine, and she gifted me another of her brilliant smiles. Her courage was a physical thing, baring its regal headlike a lion, readying itself to roar. I pitied anyone who thought Tully wasn’t worth the Hartlock name.

The day she realized it herself, she would be unstoppable.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll go.”

I smothered a soft spark of unease. Interlacing our fingers, I squeezed. One. Two. Three.

Convincing Tully to attend would be worth it. Especially when she saw how powerful she really was, and how much we adored her as a pack.

26

Tully

Why had I stopped wearing sparkly things? The plunging neckline of the champagne gown revealed a tantalizing swell of cleavage. The soft material hiked high on the right side, allowing one bare leg to tease. I had my spark back, on the outside at least. Inside was being challenged by nausea. Tossing until my upper lip sprang with sweat.

Pan danced his fingers up the generous split. I smothered a surprised gasp. He’d been very affectionate since my heat.

“Perfect, beautiful, and so easy to access,” Pan hummed and my knees wobbled as he stroked along my dampening seam. “Careful, angel. You might ruin the hard work of the scent removers.”

His teeth scraped behind my ear, and his tongue flickered out to taste me.

“Maybe we could forget the gala and stay home?” I breathed.