Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
MAYA
D espite the lack of an official announcement, word of Logan’s new position as heir has already filtered through court.
Invitations for meetings and events have come pouring in, enough that I almost miss the days I spent locked in Logan’s bedroom in the aftermath of my heat.
I only had him and Cillian to deal with then, at least.
Instead, I find myself standing in the corner of a full ballroom surrounded by people I don’t know.
I hold the empty champagne flute like a shield, wishing I could disappear into the gilded wallpaper.
The room buzzes with aristocratic chatter in the sharply perfumed air and the clinking of crystal glassware.
These people have spent lifetimes perfecting the art of polite conversation while sliding daggers between ribs.
I’ve spent barely any time in the palace, and already sick of the spectacle.
“You look like you’re contemplating jumping out that window.”
I turn to find Cillian beside me, his ice-chip eyes scanning the crowd before settling on me. The bond between us pulses with his awareness of my discomfort.
“Just weighing my options,” I mutter. “Third floor might not be high enough.”
His mouth quirks. “The Enclave didn’t prepare you for royal gatherings?”
I shoot him a withering look. For some reason, I don’t feel any need to hide my frustration from him.
Maybe it’s the bond, compelling me to honesty.
“Oh sure, between ‘ How to Please Your Alpha ’ and ‘ Proper Posture for Breeding ,’ they squeezed in ‘ Emotionally Reconciling a Corrupted Bond with a Future King and His Bodyguard Turned Secret Lover Who Hates You .’ It was my favorite class.”
I expect anger, but Cillian’s expression softens slightly. “I don’t hate you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“I don’t,” he insists, taking my empty glass and setting it on a passing server’s tray. “In fact, under different circumstances, I think I would like you very much. You’re funny, at least. That’s not something I can say about any other woman that Logan has entertained over the years.”
The admission catches me off guard. I search his face for signs of manipulation but find only a quiet sincerity that’s more dangerous than any lie.
Before I can decide how to respond, Cillian nods toward a cluster of women near the orchestra. “See the woman in the purple dress? That’s Countess Renfield. Rumor has it she’s had three husbands, and each died more mysteriously than the last.”
I follow his gaze. “The one with the peacock feather in her hair?”
“That’s the one. And the man she’s talking to? Lord Barclay. Claims to be the greatest hunter in Melilla, but actually pays locals to kill the animals he poses with.”
Despite myself, I feel my lips twitch upward. “What about the couple by the dessert table?”
“Ah, the Duchess and Duke of Westfield. They hate each other so much they live at opposite ends of their estate. They only appear together at events like this, and they’ve perfected the art of smiling while plotting each other’s demise.
It’s fairly well-established that she tried to poison him at a gala last year. ”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re making that up.”
“I wish I were,” Cillian says, his eyes dancing with something almost like mischief. “Court is just elaborate theater. Might as well enjoy the show until it’s your turn on stage.”
“If I’m playing a part, I wish I’d done a little more research before auditioning,” I say, tracing the rim of a water glass a server just placed in my hand. “The role of future queen with a fake mate and an involuntary bond with his secret Omega lover wasn’t exactly covered in my Enclave training.”
Cillian’s expression shifts, the playfulness fading into something more somber. He stares into the crowd, but I can tell he’s seeing something else entirely.
“I’m sorry,” he says finally, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “For how I treated you when you arrived. This—“ he gestures vaguely between us “—is exactly what I hoped to avoid. I never wanted anyone else dragged into our mess.”
“Why can’t you just hate him?” I ask, knowing I don’t need to use a name for us both to know exactly who I’m talking about.
Cillian’s eyes find mine, a sad smile playing at his lips. “For the same reason you can’t hate me.”
His words might as well be an arrow to the chest. Because he’s right. Despite everything, despite knowing I should despise Cillian for his part in my captivity, I don’t. The bond between us makes it impossible to truly hate him, just as his bond with Logan creates the same conflict for him.
But if Logan deserves to be punished, then Cillian does too. I can’t let hormones and mysticism distract me from what I need to do.
I open my mouth to tell him to keep his fake sentiment to himself when a smooth voice speaks from behind me.
“I believe this is the part where I tell you your new pack Omega is absolutely lovely, Cillian. How delightful to see you again, Maya. Or, soon to be Princess Maya, I suppose. Bonding seems to agree with you.”
The voice slides over my shoulder like a knife. I jump, my body reacting before my brain can catch up. I’ve heard that voice in my nightmares too many times not to recognize it immediately.
Dr. Sionis Thane stands behind me, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that matches the steel in his eyes. His smile is polite, professional, and completely at odds with the predatory gleam I recognize all too well.
“Dr. Thane,” I manage, my voice barely steady. “What a surprise.”
“Is it?” His gaze flicks to my necklace, the Corellian crest sitting at my throat. “I would think the future queen would expect to see the royal inquisitor at court functions.”
I want to run. My gaze flicks to the nearest exit, and the throng of people standing between me and the ballroom doors. But where would I go? There isn’t anywhere left to run.
The memory of metal tables and restraints flashes through my mind. The scent of antiseptic and fear. His voice, clinical and detached as he cataloged my responses to pain.
I’m frozen, unable to speak or move. Waiting for the inevitable torment that comes with the sound of his voice.
Cillian surprises me by stepping slightly in front of me, his body language remains casual, but the positioning is deliberate. Through our bond, I feel his confusion at my reaction, but also the immediate protective response that he can’t help but feel.
The urge to huddle behind him for protection is both deeply confusing and impossible to ignore.
“Dr. Thane,” Cillian says smoothly, “I didn’t realize you were attending tonight. I thought you’d be busy with your investigation.”
“The king seemed particularly desirous of my presence here tonight. One must make time for social obligations.” Thane’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Speaking of which, I find myself in need of an escort for tomorrow’s interviews in the harem.
Several new Omegas had arrived from the provinces immediately prior to the attack on the palace, and I’m conducting routine questioning. ”
Cillian raises a pale eyebrow, looking very much like the haughty second-hand to a prince. “I was under the impression you were tasked with investigating Ander’s murder. What does that have to do with the palace attack?”
“Answering that question is precisely the purpose of my investigation,” Thane smoothly replies. “I understand that Lady Maya might be of assistance, as she has spent considerable time both inside and outside the harem. Her…perspective would be invaluable.”
“I’m afraid Maya has prior commitments tomorrow,” Cillian says firmly, despite having no way of knowing why I’m a trembling mess behind him. “Perhaps one of the other royal Omegas could help you instead.”
“My use of Maya has already been personally approved by the king. He was the one who mentioned her by name when I requested an escort.” Thane’s voice hardens slightly beneath its thin veneer of civility.
“His Majesty agrees that the future queen should take an interest in palace affairs, especially those concerning Omegas.”
My mouth goes dry. The king himself approved this? I want to scream, to tell Cillian exactly who and what this man is, but the words stick in my throat. If I expose Thane now, he could reveal what he did to me—and worse, what I did to escape.
“Prince Logan has ultimate authority over his Omega. I assure you that I speak with his full authority when I tell you that Maya’s schedule is not up for debate.”
A gleam of interest flashes in Thane’s eyes. “Do you now? Speak with his authority? How interesting.”
The doctor’s attention shifts fully to Cillian, his clinical gaze narrowing with interest. His nostrils flare slightly as he gives the other man a lingering appraisal.
“Perhaps you would be available instead, Cillian?” Thane’s voice drops to a silky tone that makes my skin crawl. “I’m aware you’ve spent considerable time in the harem in the past.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. The way he’s looking at Cillian—like a specimen under glass—is exactly how he looked at me strapped to his examination table.
“Multiple Omegas have commented on the comfort they feel in your presence,” Thane continues, his head tilting slightly. “I find that...interesting.”
I feel Cillian stiffen beside me. Through our bond, a flash of confusion mingles with the sharp fear he must feel from me through the bond.
Thane knows. Somehow, he knows Cillian is an Omega.
My mind races through the possibilities. If Thane exposes Cillian’s true designation, everything falls apart. Logan would be revealed as mated to a male Omega, breaking taboos that even royal privilege can’t overcome. The king would never name him heir. And Cillian—what would happen to him?