Chapter 21
twenty-one
DARCY
The grand ballroom buzzed with the hive mind of politics, a symphony of pompous voices and tinkling glasses. As I stepped through the threshold, the chandeliers cast a golden light over the sea of over starched suits and debutante dresses. Everyone was playing their part with practiced ease, dancing to the tune of nepotism and power that my father so adoringly conducted. And I wore my mask for the evening, a pearlescent smile that seemed permanently etched onto my face.
"…and that's where the new bill we're proposing will uphold the sanctity and structure of the traditional home," a silver-tongued senator spewed, his words garnering nods from the crowd. "There's no place in the workforce for our delicate omegas with their… re-occurring afflictions."
Careful, Darling, I thought, gritting my teeth behind a placid smile. With every word, he might as well have been lacing his drink with his own poison.
"Quite right!" another chimed in beside him, a woman sporting a string of gleaming pearls. She looked at me as she spoke, her gaze patronizing. "An omega's place, after all, is managing the household, nurturing the young, caring for her alphas with grace and poise – not muddling it up in the cut-throat world that alphas and betas have built." Her eyes lingered on mine, expecting agreement, possibly even gratitude for her alleged wisdom.
They might as well have branded 'Property of" on my forehead. Not that it mattered in this room, where it was less about who was speaking and more about repeating the same archaic sentiments until every omega in the radius was convinced of their "rightful place." A place that was most decidedly not at the conference table, but rather sprawled out beneath it while the alphas made decision after decision.
"Indeed," was all I allowed myself to say, the word escaping like a sigh at a particularly dull play you're forced to applaud. Inside, the rebel in me was anything but compliant. Let them think I was simply another omega, ripe for the plucking in their political fruit bowl.
Yet, as the air filled with the staleness of their rhetoric, I couldn't help but think of Dr. Parsons and what she'd say at this very moment. They'd probably faint hearing the truth of my little side project – the work that fed my soul much more than any alpha’s knot ever would.
"Thank you for your insight. It's truly wonderful to see such dedication to preserving our community's values," was my rehearsed and hollow response. The honeyed words dripped effortlessly from my lips—a skill honed to perfection over years of expectation and performance.
As the night wore on, the speeches continued, each one less about omegas’ well-being and more about keeping us in delicate, ornamental birdcages. I stood there, the perfect puppet, nodding as they waxed poetic about the "natural balance" of our society with omegas at hearth and home. Internally, I was hacking away at their logic with the same precision with which I coded.
There was a time when thoughts of rebellion would redden my cheeks and tremble my hands, revealing my inner turmoil. But tonight, surrounded by the very people attempting to dictate my path, I felt nothing but a quiet determination. How could they understand the burn of ambition that raged within me, dwarfing the heat even my own body could elicit?
To them, I was barely more than a vessel: a pretty, pliant omega to be dangled in front of future allies like a carrot on a stick. Never mind that I had goals beyond the confines of a gilded birdcage. Never mind that I had dreams burning brighter than the thousands of watts illuminating this charade for all to see. But they didn't deserve to know that. Dr. Parsons was the only one who knew how I truly spent my quiet hours, and she did nothing but encourage my talent.
As for the rest of them – let them talk. Talk until their throats cracked and their voices turned into nothing more than background noise. I had prepared for this night, arranged every detail with meticulous care. The silent countdown in my mind was nearing its completion, and soon, with any luck, I wouldn't just be smiling for show.
* * *
I barely had time to register the cool air of the hallway after leaving the washroom when my father's hand clamped down on my shoulder. His grip was firm, the kind that brooked no argument, even as he wore a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"There you are, Darcy," he said, his voice a touch too loud for comfort. "I've been looking all over for you. Come, there's something we need to discuss in my office."
The red flags in my mind were waving like a distress signal on a sinking ship, but what could I do? I had been raised to obey, to be the 'good girl' he constantly touted to his cronies. So, I nodded, the motion stiff and unnatural, and followed him down the corridor.
As we entered his office, the scent of driftwood with an underlying note of fish hit me—Alpha Reyes. He was sitting there, an expectant look on his face, and I felt the walls closing in. With each beat, my heart reverberated through my chest, a booming sound that drowned out everything else.
Before I could voice the questions burning on my tongue, I felt the sharp prick of a needle in my neck. My father's face was a mask of calm as he depressed the plunger, injecting me with something that sent waves of numbness coursing through my veins. I stumbled, my legs turning to jelly, and he snapped at me to sit down. I did as he commanded, the world tilting on its axis.
"Darcy," he began, his tone carrying a weight of false regret, "you're going to go with Alpha Reyes. He's won the right to bond you into the Ravenwood pack."
My mind reeled, the implications of his words crashing down on me like a house of cards. He continued, explaining that he had induced my heat with the drug he'd just administered. My heat. The very thing I'd been suppressing with every ounce of willpower I possessed.
"Once you're fully in the throes of your heat, you won't be able to fight them off," he said, an edge of satisfaction creeping into his voice. "You'll be the obedient omega you're meant to be, and you'll finally have a place and a pack. Doesn’t that sound lovely?"
The drug was doing its work, my body growing heavier by the second. A warmth was spreading through me, a warmth that had nothing to do with comfort and everything to do with primal need. My cheeks flamed beneath my foundation, the heat of my skin threatening to melt the makeup from my face.
Panic set in, a wild animal trapped in a snare. Just as darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision, the lights flickered and died. Instinct took over, and I found myself reaching for the pen on my father's desk, the one with the heavy, embossed emblem at its cap.
With a strength born of sheer terror, I drove the pen into Alpha Reyes' throat. His gurgled cry of surprise was lost in the chaos of the darkness. I didn't wait to see the outcome; I turned and ran.