Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
MAYA
I wake up to an empty bed that has gone long cold, even if Poe’s scent still lingers on the sheets. It’s late in the morning, judging from the full sunlight coming through the window. The loud voices audible through the walls must mean I’m the last to be up for the day.
For a moment, I consider burrowing deeper into the covers, pretending the world outside doesn’t exist. But the last thing I want to do is risk one of them deciding to come looking for me.
When I return to Logan’s chambers to find something to wear, both he and Cillian are already gone.
I select a simple dress. Nothing fancy, just something comfortable that won’t draw attention.
After last night with Poe, I’m not sure how to face any of them.
The dynamic has shifted again, and I need time to recalibrate my approach.
What I don’t expect is the chaos that greets me.
Logan paces the length of the dining room, barking orders into a communication device.
The staff who normally brings breakfast, scurry around him looking on the verge of tears.
His hair is disheveled, as if he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly, but the rest of him is immaculate.
Today, he is wearing a starkly white dress uniform with every button and medal on his chest shined to absolute perfection.
Cillian stands nearby, tablet in hand, fingers flying across the screen as he processes whatever instructions Logan fires at him, even as I sense through the bond his distant urge to fix Logan’s appearance,
Ares leans back in his chair with arms crossed, watching the frenzy with a mixture of amusement and concern. Poe sits at the far table, methodically cleaning what appears to be a small handgun.
None of them notices me until I’m fully in the room.
Logan whirls around mid-sentence, golden eyes landing on me with laser focus. “What are you wearing?”
I glance down at my simple dress. “A dress?”
“A sack, I think you mean.” He dismisses my outfit with a wave.
“You have the meeting with the Omega coalition this morning. You need to be dressed in something befitting your station. There should be a green day dress hanging in the hall bathroom. You have just enough time to change before you need to leave.”
“She needs to eat,” Ares says, mouth full of a bite of sausage.
“If she’s late, I’m taking it out of your ass.
” Logan turns back to me with a critical eye, a tinny voice still coming from his comm unit that he appears to be ignoring.
“Wear your hair up with the dress, no need to distract from the sigil around your neck. Ares will escort you there and back. Do not go anywhere in the palace alone. I’ll see you tonight.
” He turns away without waiting for a response from me and returns his attention to his comm unit as he strides toward the door.
“Damn it, no. I already told you this afternoon won’t work.
If the ambassador wants to meet with me that badly, then the urge probably won’t have faded by tomorrow. ”
Cillian throws me an apologetic shrug before following Logan out.
Poe stands, holstering his weapon beneath his jacket. “I have to leave too.”
I expect him to simply walk past me like the others, but he pauses, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. The gesture is so unexpected, so tender, that I freeze in place.
“Be careful today,” he murmurs against my skin before pulling away.
The door closes behind him, leaving me alone with Ares.
“What’s going on?” I ask, still reeling slightly from Poe’s casual display of affection.
Ares shrugs, but his relaxed posture doesn’t match the tension in his eyes. “Word has officially gotten out that Logan is about to be named heir. Everything is moving faster now.” He gestures toward the hallway. “Go get changed. I’ll make a plate for you.”
“It’s fine. I don’t want to be late.”
“Doesn’t matter if you are,” he says with a scoff. “You’re a royal consort now. People wait for you, not the other way around.”
“I’m sure there will be food at this meeting.”
He makes a face of disgust as he waves me away. “Cakes and cucumber sandwiches aren’t food. You can thank me later when your body isn’t screaming for some protein.”
In the hallway bathroom, I find the green dress hanging exactly where Logan said it would be.
It’s beautiful, not overly ornate but clearly expensive, with subtle beading along the neckline that catches the light.
The color reminds me of forest shadows, a shade that suits my coloring like it was created for me.
I’m not sure which bothers me more—that Logan is now dictating my wardrobe or that he actually has decent taste.
“Remind me what the Omega coalition is again?” I ask as I reenter the dining room.
Ares slides a piled-high plate across the table and gestures for me to take a seat. “A social club for the mates of high-ranking Alphas in government. They do charity work, organize fundraisers, boring shit like that to keep them occupied.”
Because gods forbid they give an Omega something actually important to do.
I realize I’ve spoken the thought aloud only when Ares responds to it.
“Queen Midale was an advocate for Omegas to have positions in government. She’d been pushing for a referendum in the senate before she died.”
“I didn’t know that.” I pick up a slice of bacon and nibble at it, despite a complete lack of appetite. “Logan never talks about his mother. It’s strange.”
“He barely knew her. He was young when she died,” he replies easily. “Midale was more progressive than most people realize, maybe radical in some ways.”
And a predator, I think, remembering what I learned about her from Poe. Sounds like she was suited to palace life is more ways than one, though that is a thought I keep to myself.
Curiosity peaked, I lean closer. “Radical how?”
Ares shrugs, looking somewhat abashed. “I’m probably saying too much. Midale had…ideas about how things should be between Alphas and Omegas. The king would occasionally indulge her by letting her address the officially address his cabinet and rouse some small number of supporters. But…”
“But the king never had any intention of instituting any real change,” I finish for him. “Because if he wanted to do that, then he would have.”
He actually has the nerve to look apologetic. “Things are the way they are.”
I push the plate away, inexplicably annoyed with him.
Ares is a prototypical Alpha, exactly who this system is designed to most uplift.
I shouldn’t expect him to be some staunch advocate of Omega rights, but his easy acceptance of the status quo is still infuriating.
“I suppose I should just be happy with garden parties and charity events.”
He drums his fingers on the table, eyes flicking from the nearly full plate back to me as if warring with the urge to force me to eat it. “Have a little more.”
“I don’t want this.”
A muscle in his jaw twitches once. “Then, I’ll get you something else. What would you like?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Ares studies me with an unreadable expression. Finally, he lets out a soft sigh. “What do you want from me here, Maya?”
What do I want? Aside from a way to turn back time, there isn’t a damn thing he can give me.
“Maybe I just want some acknowledgment of how messed up this all is. A trick of birth shouldn’t put you in control of another person.”
His expression is incredulous. “You think I have control over you? I can’t even get you to fucking eat.”
I cover my eyes with the heels of my palms, resisting the urge to scream at him. “That isn’t what I mean.”
He gently grips my wrists, pulling my hands down until I’m forced to look at him. The sympathy in his gaze is more than I would have expected to see from him.
“Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it,” he says, voice earnest.
I haven’t decided what sort of punishment Ares deserves for what happened to me. Or how to deliver it. And I won’t unless I get close enough to him to figure it out.
I should have known that he wouldn’t be able to resist a damsel in distress.
This is an opportunity I didn’t expect to get so easily.
I can take advantage of Ares’s desire to protect, to be that idealized Alpha he sees himself as.
Logan’s head on a pike is probably too much, but I need to ask him for something good.
Something Logan won’t like, that might be the start of a wedge driven between them.
“I want to leave the palace.”
His eyebrows go up. “And go where?”
“It doesn’t matter. I just want to get away for a few hours. I’ve barely even left the apartment for days.”
He looks at me for a long moment, considering.
I can practically see the wheels turning in his head.
The volatility of Logan’s reaction has to be weighed against the points he’ll score for fulfilling my request. Finally, he gives a small nod.
“Fine, but you have to finish these eggs. We’ll go out after the coalition meeting. ”
“Deal.” I pick up my fork, feeling a surge of triumph. “Thank you.”
He gives a rueful chuckle as he leans back in his chair. “Thank me after Logan gets done rearranging my internal organs.”
I reach out and gently squeeze his hand. “I really do appreciate this, you know. That you’re listening to me.”
The slight flush on his cheeks tells me I’ve hit my mark. For all his confidence, Ares just wants me to feel like I need him. He wants to provide and to be appreciated for it.
It’s almost enough to make me want to actually like him.
Too bad, almost isn’t good enough.
“ A t least you’re fashionably late!” I hear her voice just before Saffron grabs my arm as we approach the doors of the receiving room where the coalition meeting is being held. “I love this dress.”
“Logan chose it, if you can believe that.”
Scarlet-colored eyebrows climb up her forehead. “You’re joking. Nikolai is a dear, but he wouldn’t know a day dress from a nightgown.”
I give her a thin smile. “Just lucky, I guess.”