Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
MAYA
I have absolutely no memory of being escorted out of the throne room and down the winding corridors of the palace to the harem. Blinding lights and incomprehensible whispers distract me until I can only focus on putting one foot in front of the other without making a fool of myself.
One moment, Logan’s dark voice is commanding me away. In the next, a room full of harem betas is staring at me, their expressions varying from mildly curious to openly hostile.
A few of them size me up, gazes lingering on my form-fitting dress, which is probably the most expensive thing I’ve ever owned. After paying off my debt to the Enclave, I’d used every bit left to buy it because I knew I’d be under intense scrutiny from the moment I stepped foot in the palace.
When every gaze lingered on the hundreds of crystals woven into the gossamer fabric, I knew I’d made the right decision not to spare even a single credit .
I already knew that Logan would do his best to humiliate me. We haven’t officially signed a mating contract, not yet anyway. When I finally received the palace summons, part of me wondered if he would publicly reject me in front of the entire court and have me thrown out of the palace on my ass.
But I came anyway, because I had no choice. Consoling myself with the thought that I’d, at least, have this dress and a paid off balance with the Enclave to show for it. A damn sight more than I had yesterday.
That debt was a problem I hadn’t expected to solve so quickly. It was another reason that I avoided going to my mother for help. She would have dumped me at the Enclave’s front door, bound and gagged, before she risked them trying to recoup any of their money from her.
Poe’s bribe presented a much more elegant solution. I’d almost be grateful to him if he wasn’t such a raging asshole.
The harem betas quickly lose interest in me, returning to their own conversations. There are a few chaise lounges and chairs set around tea tables, but all the seats are occupied. The mismatched furniture that was here before must have been returned where it belonged. I’m left standing awkwardly by the door, with the distinct impression that I am not supposed to be here.
A familiar face approaches me, looking somehow even more harried than the last time I saw her.
“Maya, yes?” Perkins huffs, when she is still several yards away. “Hurry after me. I’ve just been told to bring you to the contract negotiation. No time to dawdle.”
“Contract negotiation?”
“Since you’re no longer under a lien with the Enclave, I’ll stand in as your representative.” Perkins stops short and stares at my dress for a beat. “Well, I’ll be. I assumed we would need to provide a wardrobe for you, but this is better than anything we have in the harem closet.” Shaking her head to clear it, she spins on her heel and gestures for me to follow her.“It looks like a custom Viladi?”
I sweep my skirt out of the way so the crystals don’t snag on a nearby chair. “It is.”
“No offense meant, but the dress you wore to the interview was obviously rented. How on earth did you get this one between yesterday and today?”
“Just good luck, I suppose.”
Josephine Viladi has been the go-to dress designer in Melilla for years. She designed every dress I ever wore to Enclave events, representing a good portion of the debt I accrued over the years. Showing up at her shop with a bag full of credits certainly helped, but I’d also gotten lucky. This dress had been a special-order, but the customer never returned after putting down their deposit. Viladi had been willing to do last-minute alterations if I didn’t expect a discount on someone else’s custom design.
From the moment I’d seen the shimmery confection pinned to a dress form in the window, I knew it was what I needed. I might have only been in the throne room for a few minutes before Logan ordered me away, but that was more than enough time to make the impression of an Omega worthy for a prince.
I can’t trust that whatever urges drove Logan to choose me won’t fade once the novelty of having me at his mercy inevitably wears off. Having a contract provides some protection, but I’m sure there are a hundred ways for him to weasel out of it if he that’s what he wants to do. If I want palace protections, then I have to figure out a way to stay here.
One of these princes will become king. Only the king can pardon someone for their crimes.
I push away the thoughts I have refused to acknowledge for the past few weeks. Eventually, the fragile walls I’ve erected are going to come down, but that day won’t be today.
If Perkins notices that I’ve gotten lost in my own thoughts, it doesn’t stop her from barreling forward with conversation as she leads me down a long hallway lined with closed doors. One is partly open and I peek inside to see a small windowless room, sparsely decorated with a neatly made twin bed and desk.
It looks more like a jail cell than anything else.
“Most of these rooms are bedrooms. Every girl in the harem has her own.” Perkins glances over her shoulder to make sure I’m still following. “I’ll give you a better tour later once I’ve found the time. Next month, maybe.”
It didn’t occur to me to consider the logistics of all this. “You’ve been that busy?”
“I don’t know what the king was thinking. You’re not the only Omega just dumped in the harem today with no instructions for what to do with her. This whole thing has been a nightmare. I haven’t slept since he made his pronouncement with all the preparations.”
I’m not stupid enough to trust someone I don’t know, but I get the impression that Perkins will be helpful if I stay on her good side. Playing the imperious Omega won’t get me very far with her .
So I decide to let a touch of my true opinion slip through.
“The royals get to do what they want, I suppose. They don’t have to think about the effect it has on everyone else. Everyone knows it isn’t the nobility who keeps the world running.”
“I know that’s the damn truth,” Perkins replies with a laugh. She cast me a sly look. “We’ll see if you feel the same way when you’ve got your own crown on your head.”
I place a solemn hand on my chest before winking at her. “From this point forward, you officially have permission to remind me of where I came from whenever you think it’s appropriate.”
“Imagine that, me giving the what for to a royal.” She claps her hands in genuine delight. “My mam would have been just tickled to see it, rest her soul.”
“Mine would snatch the crown right off my head if given half the chance.”
Perkins laughs so hard that her face turns bright red and her round belly sways from side to side with the force of her mirth. She has to pause in the middle of the hallway, bent over and wheezing.
I politely wait for her to catch her breath, privately wondering if I can even remember the last time I heard anyone laugh out loud like this.
God, that is bleak.
The laughter slowly fades as Perkins composes herself. She continues down the hallway, still chuckling.
Perkins pauses at a closed door. She looks back at me, a pensive expression on her face.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be letting you know this before the negotiation is done, but I’ve already been told that you’re to be housed here with the harem betas indefinitely.” She gives me a look of more than idle curiosity. I get the immediate impression that she isn’t the type to accept things that make no sense to her. “All the other princes seem excited to have their Omegas in their own apartments, as close to them as possible. It’s interesting to see Prince Logan deviating from the norm.”
She probably knows Logan better than I do, working here and all. I don’t have to ask if it’s normal for him to buck tradition.
“Logan has never cared much about what is normal, I assume.”
“Right in one.” Her hand comes to rest on the doorknob, but she doesn’t turn it. The look she casts me is considering. “It surprised me you interviewed with only one prince. Logan wouldn’t have been my first choice for you.”
If she doesn’t know the history already, I won’t be the one to share it with her. Or maybe this is a test, and she wants to see just how much I’ll disclose when asked directly.
I decide to play the middle.
“I had good reason to think he’d choose me,” I admit, my tone neutral. “The same couldn’t be said for any of the other princes.”
“The betas here tell stories about Logan, of course. Though you’ll not hear me repeating idle chatter.”
I cough to hide my laugh. That means Perkins is probably the biggest purveyor of gossip in the entire palace. I’ll have to remember that .
“I’m sure I’ve heard at least a bit,” I assure her.
“It’s too late to give you the advice I’d give my own daughter. She wouldn’t be standing here right now if I had even one thing to say about it, I’ll tell you that.” Perkins levels me with a look of deadly seriousness. She reaches out with one hand as if to touch my shoulder, but then lets it drop before making contact. “I’ll do my best to see you’re treated fairly with the contract, but only so much can be done. Hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into with Prince Logan.”
I nod in understanding, ignoring the cramping pit of unease in my stomach. “Don’t worry. I’m stronger than I look.”
She rolls her eyes, but a small smile returns to her face. “Don’t think it’s possible for you to be weaker, my dear, so I suppose we’ll leave it at that.”
Perkins pushes open the door, revealing an office similar to the one where I’d had my interview the day before.
A large oak desk dominates the space with two small chairs placed in front of it.
But this time, it isn’t Logan I see when the desk chair swivels to face me.
A gaze the color and warmth of icicles rises to meet mine. The blue-eyed beta looks completely unsurprised to see me and equally uninterested.He doesn’t even bother to rise from the desk.
“Have a seat. Let’s get this over with.”
T he beta regards me with no expression on his face. His pale blue eyes aren’t much different from the surface of a frozen lake. That layer of ice presents an illusion of safety. Take one step too far out and that ice cracks beneath your feet, sucking you down to your death in the frigid water below.
I know what the others want from me. Logan craves payback for the humiliation he suffered a year ago. Ares sees another conquest to notch his bedpost. Poe wants to hurt me as much as he likely does every Omega he encounters.
But Cillian is a mystery. Present for practically every moment, but somehow removed at the same time. It isn’t uncommon for betas to become cruel where Omegas are concerned, compensating for the inevitable inferiority complex they develop in the face of Alpha posturing.
Except Cillian didn’t seem to enjoy his front-row seat to Logan’s antics, though he made no effort to stop it.
I haven’t missed how that dead gaze follows me. Maybe he just considers me another potential threat to the prince.
Or maybe there is something else. Some variable I missed when concocting a wild plan to ensure my safety by aligning myself with the most dangerous men in the palace.
The beta pointedly clears his throat. My cheeks burn as I realize I’ve been staring at him for a solid minute, lost in my own thoughts.
Shit, I’m getting sloppy.
His secrets, whatever they might be, are a distraction that I can’t afford.
I look down at the tablet as he slides a tablet across the counter. The words on the screen are tiny enough that I squint to read them.As they coalesce, sentences carve themselves into my brain with knifepoint pressure.
The Omega will serve Prince Logan’s unless or until he sees fit to end this agreement.
The Omega will allow Prince Logan, or his representatives, to make all decisions concerning her wardrobe and personal grooming, including services that are painful or permanent.
The Omega will submit to the sexual desires of Prince Logan and any representatives he designates without exception or delay.
The Omega will yield to whatever punishment Prince Logan deems fit if her behavior is ever unacceptable.
The Omega will not pursue sexual pleasure, with herself or others, outside of that specifically allowed by Prince Logan, or his duly appointed representative.
My vision blurs as I reach a detailed list of sexual acts I might be asked to perform, each more disgusting than the last. The Enclave’s training regimen was exhaustive, so some things I expect, but others push well past my boundaries. Heinous acts. Humiliating acts. The sort of thing not even fit for a back-alley whorehouse, much less the refined rooms of the palace.
Perkins says what I’m thinking before I get the chance, outrage in her voice. “This is not the standard contract template.”
Cillian doesn’t so much as blink. “That is correct.”
“I demand an explanation,” she growls, sounding like a mama bear spotting a hunter near one of her cubs. “This is hardly a mating contract at all.“
“Prince Logan is not prepared to offer anything irrevocable at this time,” he replies smoothly. “His acceptance of this Omega is…provisional.”
“Provisional?” the head mother repeats, her outraged tone making the word a question. “That was not the king’s edict?—“
“Even our king has no authority over the mate relationship between an Alpha and an Omega. That power lies only with the gods,” Cillian interrupts harshly, face the most expressive I’ve ever seen it. Anger flashes in his gaze, sharp cracks in the sheet of ice, before he pulls himself back and continues more calmly. “Logan intends to obey his father’s orders, but he wants to ensure that Ms. Tantamount is a worthy choice before he offers a more permanent arrangement. If he decides against bonding her and the mating contract is cancelled, then the Omega will be compensated for her time and services rendered.”
In other words, he will ruin me and then cast me out.
Perkins’s cheeks swell as she inhales, her expression practically apoplectic with suppressed rage. “This is not a brothel, beta. I will not have you turn any of my girls into a common prostitute.”
He shrugs, unaffected by the woman’s outburst. “She doesn’t have to sign it.”
“This is ridiculous!”
“Take it up with Prince Logan,” he replies coldly. “Or I could inform the king that you are refusing to perform your duties as a contract mediator.”
Perkins swallows back whatever else she would have said with an audible choking sound.
Cillian’s attention returns to me, ignoring the woman beside me who practically vibrates with indignation .
He holds up a metal stylus pen, balancing it on one long tapered finger. “Which is it going to be, Omega?”
Logan is testing me. He might want me, but he certainly doesn’t trust me. This contract is his way of trying to determine just how desperate I am to be here. Agreeing to his terms without complaint would be all the proof he needs that I have ulterior motives.
I need this to work, but giving up my last iota of power might be the very worst thing I could do.
Taking a single fortifying breath, I decide to gamble. “I assume these terms are negotiable.”
There is a moment of silence so profound that it creates its own pressure in my ears.
“Assumptions are a very dangerous thing around here,” Cillian finally murmurs, raising one pale eyebrow.
“This isn’t indentured servitude or slavery,” Perkins insists, finally recovering her authoritative tone. “The terms are always negotiable.”
“Not this time.”
She crosses her hands primly in front of her, but her expression is resolute. “Then you should return to your master like a good guard dog and inform him of your failure as his representative. As her appointed advocate, I cannot allow this Omega to sign such an unfair contract.”
My heart sinks as he snatches up the tablet. I’d overplayed my hand and now I’m going to be dumped at the palace gates with nothing to show for my trouble. Maybe I could convince Viladi to give me a partial refund if I return the dress.
But no amount of money is going to fix my problems …
Cillian taps the stylus once on the screen without bothering to look at me. “What did you have in mind?”
It takes a moment for my mind to catch up.. “You don’t have to ask Prince Logan?”
Annoyance flashes across his face before his expression returns to the more familiar mask.
“Did you want me to?” he bites out.
Relief rushes over me. This was likely just the first test of many, but I’m still happy to have passed it.
Feeling bolder, I hold out my hand for the tablet. Cillian briefly hesitates before relinquishing it, mouth pinched in a thin line.
“I won’t consent to anything that causes permanent damage.” I thumb through the list of explicit kinks. My knowledge might be exhaustive, but it’s still entirely theoretical. I think back to the educational materials we’d been encouraged to consume at the Enclave. Most of it would have qualified as pornography if there had been better pictures accompanying the dry and academic text. A proper Omega is supposed to be prepared for anything her Alpha might want from her. Figuratively or literally. “For example, section 7.2 references bondage and rope suspension. That can cause muscle or nerve injury.”
“Not when done properly, but I’ll concede your point.” His brief smile is there and gone so quickly that I might have imagined it. “To clarify, you are willing to endure temporary incapacitation as long as any injury does not result in long-term disability?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Fine.”
“What about permanent cosmetic procedures? ”
“No one is shaving my eyebrows and tattooing on new ones, if that’s what you mean.”
“Electrolysis?”
“You’re not shocking me with electricity, beta.”
He rolls his eyes. “Electrolysis, not electricity. Not entirely painless, but it’s a common procedure for the permanent removal of body hair.”
I can’t stop the blush that heats my cheeks, more from anger than embarrassment. Obviously, Logan would want me plucked more bare than a spring chicken. A fuzzy armpit might ruin the image of physical perfection that everyone expects from a proper Omega.
I swear most Alphas would be happier with a porcelain doll, assuming it had holes in the right places and could cry on demand.
“Acceptable from the neck down only.”
Cillian scoffs at that. “I sincerely doubt Logan has any intention of defiling your crowning glory.”
His words aren’t a compliment and I don’t miss his note of sarcasm. If I ever really did need to make a run for it, I might as well fly a bright purple banner behind me.
“Is there anything in the contract that prevents me from changing it? My hair, I mean?” I ask casually. “Cutting? Dyeing? Shaving it all off bootcamp style?”
Cillian’s lips twitch in quickly stifled amusement. “There is not.”
Definitely a tidbit worth remembering.
We comb through the rest of the contract as I fight off waves of shame at what I’m signing up to do. Perkins stays mostly silent, aside from gasps of surprise and growls of outrage at some of the terms. It’s obvious that Logan wants me publicly humiliated in every way he can imagine.
The reality of my situation settles over me by the time we get to the end.
Logan has no intention of bonding with me as his Omega or even keeping me around long-term. A mating bond creates an obligation between an Alpha and an Omega. Alphas are compelled by their biology to protect their Omegas, too many emotions become shared for it to be otherwise.They aren’t able to do any actual damage without harming themselves.
If Logan did half of the things allowed by our contract, any bond formed between us would be broken beyond repair, shattered bits of glass shredding our insides until we were hollow shells.
The bond would feel like breaking your own heart, over and over again.
Cillian takes back the tablet and makes a few quick notes with the stylus. “I believe we’ve come to an acceptable place.”
“I have one more stipulation.”
“Why am I not surprised?” he replies with a grimace. “This has already taken long enough. Out with it.”
Cillian gives no obvious reaction when I make my last demand. The ice in his eyes remains so thick I can practically skate across it as he stares at me.
Perkins has a stronger reaction, her jaw dropping practically to the floor. She whispers urgent questions about whether I’m really sure about this, that I’ll ruin any chance I have at a permanent position.
Turning away with a frown, Cillian taps a message onto the tablet screen. “I need confirmation for this.”
I cross my arms over my chest to hide a nervous shiver. “Take your time.”
The tablet pings almost immediately in response, as if the recipient was waiting for it. It makes me wonder why Logan isn’t here himself. Maybe assigning the lowest-ranked member of his inner circle to was just another insult heaped on top of all the rest.
Cillian raises his head to look at me, gaze tracking over my face as if searching for something. If he finds it, he gives no sign. His expression remains carefully neutral as he holds the stylus out to me.
“Prince Logan will accept all of your terms, understanding that they remain entirely confidential. Sign here at the bottom.”
I feel a surge of relief, so potent that I almost pass out.
That relief is immediately followed by suspicion.
Sure, Logan threw down the first gauntlet when he turned our mating contract into a kink permission slip. If I were still an Enclave Omega, the instructors would have forbidden me from signing it, even with the negotiated concessions. But my last request was entirely unprecedented, scandalous even, and I’m smart enough to know that he has no obvious reason to accept it.
Unless I’m playing right into his hands.
But even if that’s true, I don’t have any other choice.
My fingers just barely brush against his as I take the stylus pen. Cillian yanks his hand back as if the touch burned.
The slim bit of metal feels too heavy in my hand, the tips of my fingertips tingling with whispers of electricity that I know are in my imagination. My vision focuses and blurs simultaneously, the periphery fading out as the thick black signature line of the contract grows larger until it’s all I can see.
Perkins makes an involuntary movement as if to stop me, though we all know it’s too late for that. A single look from Cillian deflates her, his expression the coldest I’ve seen it so far.
With a single exhale, I sign myself away.
“You’re dismissed,” he snaps at the house mother. “She belongs to Prince Logan now.”
With a stiff curtsy and a last sympathetic look cast in my direction, Perkins turns on her heel and stomps out of the room.
The door slams shut behind her, loudly enough to echo in the sudden silence.
“What’s next?” I ask, hating the note of apprehension in my voice.
Cillian continues to stare at me, saying nothing. His gaze peruses my body in a slow appraisal. He lingers on the high slit of my dress, dancing over my slim waist and the curve of my chest, before returning to my face.
But there isn’t any heat to his attention.
If anything, he looks at me like a hunk of meat hanging in the butcher window. And he can’t decide if I’m worth taking home for a holiday dinner.
He takes a step forward. I instinctively back away before catching myself. It’s too late for the shrinking violet routine. My consent has been signed and witnessed. As Logan’s duly appointed representative , there really isn’t much Cillian can’t do to me.
The idea makes my skin crawl, even as my heart starts beating about a thousand beats per minute.
Frozen, I stare at the ground as the tips of his shiny boots come to a stop just at the edge of my gold, strappy sandals, also courtesy of Viladi.
He doesn’t speak until I finally look up, our faces close enough that his eyes dominate my vision in a shock of frozen blue.
“I underestimated you,” he murmurs, finally. His breath coasts over my cheek, exhaling a scent sweeter than I expect, even though I can’t quite place it. “Fair warning, though. I won’t do it again.”
There is absolutely no good answer to that.