Muse

Chapter 30 Sai

Sai

I stand in front of Mavi’s mirror, adjusting the silk shirt against my chest. The mating bond is fresh, my scent shifting to mix with my new mate. Sandalwood now threads with honey and citrus in a way that anyone with a working nose will clock immediately.

I look the same in the reflection, but I smell different and I feel different. There’s a steadiness in my chest that wasn’t there before the bite I placed on Mavi’s ear. A fixed point. Mavi’s mark on me feels like the tether even if the visible evidence has already faded.

I slide the suit jacket on next. The fabric settles perfectly over my shoulders, but my hands pause on the lapels. Mavi steps up behind me, his fingers reaching around and taking the tie I’ve been trying to knot.

He straightens it with careful movements, making sure it sits exactly right against the collar.

The domesticity of it hits me hard. The Omega dressing the Alpha for a family event that’s designed to replace the Omega with someone else.

Mavi doesn’t show bitterness. He simply finishes the knot and then kisses me senseless, reminding me that I’m his.

.. not Elias’. Not the Moreau’s. Not even my family’s.

“You have to go or they’ll get mad,” he says quietly.

“I don’t want to go.” My voice comes out honest in a way it never used to be. “I already know what they’re going to do. They want me and Elias to sign something, to agree formally. To make it real.”

Mavi’s hand slides down my chest, down my stomach, and cups me through my dress pants.

The cage is there, the metal pressing against his palm as my cock strains inside the device he put on me.

My head drops forward as a groan pulls from me.

Mavi just grins. “Still mine, aren’t you, Alpha?

Now, go get them. And then come back to me. ”

I drag him into another kiss before forcing myself to leave the apartment, just barely arriving at the venue minutes before I have to face Elias. No doubt there’s a private room saved for us and paperwork resting on the edge of the table, begging to be signed.

However, just outside the dining room, Alistair and Lyric are waiting. The gatekeeper and the heir, doing their jobs.

They both look tired. Not the composed, dangerous versions I’m used to.

Genuinely strung out. Alistair’s tie is slightly loose, which is unprecedented.

Lyric’s composure is intact but thinner than usual, like varnish worn down by too many coats.

They’ve been managing this arrangement for weeks and my resistance must have been grinding on them.

Though, since they take control of most of our family, I can only imagine how much effort it takes to keep all those points aligned.

Lyric speaks first, his voice clipped. “Just go in there. Sit down. Be pleasant. Get this done. We’re all tired of—” He stops as his nostrils flare and his gaze narrows. “Why do you smell like that?”

I tense.

Alistair leans in and sniffs as well. His face changes with surprise, then a flash of something that might be dark humor. “You’re already mated. You absolute—you’re mated. Your mother is going to have a field day.”

Lyric’s composure cracks. “Why would you do this? The only thing you had to do was obey. The one thing—”

I cut him off. My voice is steady, though I don’t know where the confidence is coming from. “I’m tired of obeying. I’m tired of following everyone else’s rules instead of the ones I choose to follow.”

Alistair asks, “Who is it?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s mine.”

Alistair says, “Your parents are going to try to ruin this. You know that.”

“Let them try. My Omega is mine. You can’t take him away from me.”

Lyric throws up his hands. He laughs, a real laugh, not the controlled lawyer version I’m used to. Something bitter and amused and tired lies underneath the humor. “Damn. They never told you, did they?”

I’m confused. “Told me what?”

Lyric leans against the wall. The composure is fully gone now and what’s underneath is a man who has been running the machine for years and is exhausted by it.

“There’s so much shit around this family because the Alphas aren’t just scattered across every facet of life by accident.

The original family, a few generations back, genuinely believed they were elite.

That the bloodline was sacred. That it had to be preserved through strategic mating.

And that belief traveled down. Your parents, our parents, the whole system—it’s built on the idea that your blood is tarnished if you don’t further it under their rules. ”

My brows furrow. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Lyric answers. “I’m just the bulldog, cousin. I enforce what they built.”

“I know. And I hate you for it.” Alistair snorts. I turn to him. “And you’re just as awful as he is. You could change it. You’re the heir to this whole thing. You choose to keep the machine running.”

Alistair’s face does something complicated—offense, recognition, the faintest edge of shame quickly buried.

I bite my tongue, realizing that as hard as it was for me to finally make a stand, it took someone outside the system to help drag me out.

Even though, I know it’ll be nowhere as easy for Alistair and Lyric to break free.

I might have been one of the golden Alphas, but they’re literally one of the bricks set to keep the Hollis family alive. Removing them would bring the whole thing down.

I straighten my tie, catching a whiff of Mavi’s scent from the fabric. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go break up with my pre-fiancé. Because I already have a mate.”

It takes me a moment to realize that the confidence is coming from Mavi, through the bond.

My beautiful Omega is offering me support from his apartment, giving me the strength I need to keep from freezing.

I gently reach down to brush my fingers against the top of the cage, shaking my ankle at the same time before heading into the dining room.

And there he is, sitting across from the empty chair. Elias Moreau.

He’s beautiful and well-dressed in a way that suggests someone helped him pick the outfit, not because he lacks taste but because he was coached.

His smile is warm and genuine and slightly nervous.

He stands when I enter, which means he’s also been trained, the Moreau family having their own machine, and extends a hand.

“Mr. Hollis. It’s nice to finally meet you properly.”

The word “properly” tells me everything. Elias has been briefed. Previous introductions were attempted or discussed. The Moreau family has been building toward this moment with the same deliberate architecture my family uses.

I shake his hand before taking my seat, noticing there is no paperwork on the table.

A small relief, sure, but that only means this isn’t over but ending it here.

I attempt to keep the Hollis mask on. I am every inch the golden boy the family built me to be, and sitting across from the Omega they chose for me, I have never felt more like a fraud.

Because Elias is nice. That’s the worst part.

Not a villain. Not someone I can dismiss or resent.

A person, clearly nervous, doing his best in a situation he did not fully choose either.

The kind of Omega our family selected because on paper Elias is perfect: connected family, artistic interests that align with mine, attractive, well-mannered, and the sort of match that makes dynasty-builders nod approvingly.

But I feel nothing. Not dislike. Not attraction. Nothing. Every cell in my body is reaching for honey and citrus and a sharp tongue and paint-stained fingers and a voice that says “pet” like it means everything.

Elias soon pauses as he lowers his fork, his expression shifting from nervousness to something more serious. “You’re mated, aren’t you?”

I could lie. The mask is still in place. I could perform my way through the rest of the evening and deal with the fallout later. I don’t. “Yes.”

Elias sags against the cushioned booth, with relief.

The posture change is dramatic, his shoulders dropping, the rigid performance collapsing into something more human and exhausted.

He presses his hands over his face for a moment, breathes, then looks at me with eyes that are suddenly, unexpectedly bright.

“Please tell me this means it won’t happen. Please.”

I blink. This is not the reaction I prepared for.

Elias leans forward, his voice dropping a little.

“Nothing against you, Mr. Hollis, you seem perfectly fine. But I…” He stops and then starts again.

“I have someone. Someone I want. Someone my family would never approve of and I can’t, I don’t want this.

” He gestures at the table, the restaurant, the arrangement. “I never wanted this.”

Two Omegas caught in the same machine. Mavi walked away from his at twenty and built everything from scratch. Elias is still inside his, unable to leave, hoping someone else will break the lock.

My chest aches with recognition. “Then we’ll mutually agree to end this,” I say. “We’ll tell both families—”

Elias shakes his head. “You have to break it. My family needs this arrangement. They would never let me be the one to step down. If I refuse, the consequences…” He doesn’t finish but he doesn’t have to. I know what family consequences look like.

“Then I’ll break it. Gladly.”

Elias looks at me. The relief in his face is so raw, so naked, that I have to look away. This Omega has been carrying the same weight I have, the machine’s expectations, the dynasty’s demands, but unlike me, Elias has not found a Mavi to help him carry it.

“Your person,” I say. “The one you want. Fight for them.”

Elias’ smile spreads across his face, though there’s a hint of sadness beneath it. “That’s easy for you to say, Mr. Hollis. You’re a Hollis. I’m a Moreau. We don’t fight. We comply.”

We finish dinner with an understanding between us that neither family will like. Elias holds my hand a beat longer than necessary. “Thank you. And… tell your mate they’re lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

I step out of the restaurant into the night air and for the first time in as long as I can remember my lungs fill completely as I take a breath that goes all the way to the bottom of my chest. There's no tightness and there's no constriction and there's no noise pressing in from the edges of my thoughts.

I pull out my phone, the screen showing a wall of notifications that keep climbing as the family group chat detonates with disbelief and anger and questions flying back and forth.

I scroll through the messages because even now I can't help cataloging the exact order in which the reactions arrive.

One cousin I barely know sends a single word that says respect and I stare at it for a long moment before I type my own reply into the chaos.

Yes. I'm mated.

I send it and then I remove myself from the chat entirely. The notifications stop at once and the silence that follows feels like the cleanest thing I’ve ever heard because it belongs only to me.

My phone rings immediately, Koda checking in of course because he would never let something like this sit unanswered. I answer while I walk toward my car as his voice comes through the ear piece.

“I'm guessing you saw the chat,” I push out.

“Cousin, the chat exploded. Lyric's message was three words. He's already mated. Alistair followed up with the skull emoji. I'm pretty sure your aunt had a stroke.”

I laugh, the genuine sound startling me because it rises from a place beyond humor from relief so deep it has to escape somewhere. “I broke the arrangement. Elias looked relieved when I told him. The family chat is a fire but I don’t have to watch it burn anymore.”

Koda's voice stays warm underneath the humor when he speaks again. “I love that for you. Seriously.”

“It's not over yet. I still have to deal with my parents and the real confrontation that is coming.”

“And you'll handle it. With that Omega of yours standing right beside you. He's good for you Sai. I've never heard you sound like this. Like an actual person instead of a machine they programmed.”

A beat passes while I consider saying something about Koda himself, about the races and the exhaustion I can hear beneath his charm but tonight isn’t for that conversation. Tonight belongs to Mavi and the quiet I am driving toward.

“Thanks Koda.”

“Go home to your mate, idiot.”

After he hangs up, I pull up to the building and take the stairs two at a time until I reach Mavi's apartment.

I open the door to find Mavi sitting on the couch with a book or a painting or something else that no longer matters because the moment the door opens he stands and moves toward me with the energy of someone who has been waiting while pretending he was not.

I pull him into a hug and press my face in his hair as I breathe him in, holding the person I just chose in front of my family and a restaurant full of expensive mistakes.

Mavi lets himself be held for three full seconds before he pulls back to study my face. His eyes search mine checking for the freeze or the spiral or any sign of damage but he won’t find them.

“It's over?”

“Almost. The arrangement is done. Elias didn’t want it either. He has someone. But my parents will come for us. I don’t know what they will do to my work.”

Mavi studies me for another moment. Then he speaks with the matter-of-fact tone of someone stating an obvious truth. “What do you mean? Your name is on everything. Unless they control your money directly everyone comes to Sai Hollis.”

“Because I am a Hollis.”

“Maybe at first.” Mavi's voice warms further. “But now? The other models at my shoots, the editors the gallery, and other people they are always talking about Sai this, Sai that. Never Sai Hollis. Just Sai. You are you, babe. Your family can’t take that from you because they did not build it. You did.”

“I love you,” I say simply because it’s the first time the words have come out this clearly.

Mavi's expression softens into something that sits underneath the sharp grin and the cam confidence. “So, what's on the agenda tonight? Fuck, sorry. Sai...”

A wild grin takes over my face, the kind of grin that Mavi has only seen a handful of times and each one has been a revelation. “You. You are on the agenda. Please?”

Mavi bursts out laughing as the sound bounces off the apartment walls.

I pick him up and set him on the kitchen counter while his legs wrap around me still laughing before I drop to my knees right there in front of him.

The moment I press my face to his cock through his boxers, the laugh turns to a moan.