Chapter 6 #2
“Why did you stop Leif from telling me? Didn’t I deserve to know?”
Frustration flickered in his eyes, as if wondering why she didn’t grasp it already. “I wanted you to decide without the pact hanging over you—without it swaying you one way or another.”
Her fingers clenched around his. “It’s my future. What gave you the right to decide what I should or shouldn’t know?”
Thorir met her gaze evenly. “Now you know. Castiel told you, didn’t he?”
“It doesn’t matter who told me. Are pacts like that common among Alphas?”
He gave a small shrug, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “It’s not uncommon. Omegas have dwindled. There are simply not enough to go around. Sharing ensures Alphas get what they need. It’s logical. Practical.”
Her stomach twisted. “Practical.” The word curdled on her tongue. “Is that what I am? A resource to be rationed?”
Thorir sighed. “Rei, Aethonia is standing with only one Alpha in its royal bloodline. Do you know what that means? How much Father, Mother, and our people fear that one day, a stronger kingdom—one with more Alphas, with a military that dwarfs ours—will simply take over?”
His voice was measured, but an edge ran beneath it, a quiet weight of duty he’d long accepted.
“When you had your Awakening, the entire kingdom rejoiced. Why?” He held her gaze. “Because as an Omega, you have the power to bring another Alpha into the royal line. With Kaelendrin and Alarik interested, you could bring two . Do you understand what that means? Aethonia would be stronger. Safer.”
“So it all falls on me, then? To save everyone?”
Thorir’s expression hardened. “You are the Princess of Aethonia. Marrying for national security is your duty.”
Duty . There’d always been duty, but the word had tightened its noose around her neck since her Awakening, spoken by those who never asked if she wanted the life they laid out for her.
She’d been naive to think her choices mattered. That her future was truly hers.
Thorir exhaled slowly. “Two Alphas also means twice the protection for you. In a world like ours, that’s not a small thing.”
Protection. Of course, they’d frame it that way. It sounded reasonable, even noble. Easier to swallow than the truth: she wasn’t a person to them. She was a resource, her worth reduced to what she could provide—whether security or progeny.
Omegas weren’t cherished for who they were, but for what they could do for Alphas: slake their lust, bear their children—preferably Sunborn and Moonfire children.
To them, she was nothing but a necessity, an irreplaceable part of a caste system designed to keep Alphas in control and bloodlines strong. Her future, desires, and freedom were merely afterthoughts, if thoughts at all, sacrificed for the greater good.
Affection, if it ever came, would be a hollow kindness—something doled out to keep her content enough not to rebel. But here was the silver lining: like an endangered animal, she’d be protected, lest she go extinct.
In the end, love was a luxury she was never meant to have.
The realization landed hard and cold. If she allowed such an arrangement, how long would it be before she disappeared entirely? Would there be anything left of herself after everything was taken away?
Inevitability pressing down like an iron shackle. No one asked what she wanted—only that she should submit .
“What else did you keep from me?” she demanded. Torsten had nearly let something slip at the tournament, and they’d yet to address it.
Thorir hesitated. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face before he finally answered. “Prince Kaelendrin is a Sunborn.”
The words landed deceptively simple, yet they shifted something deep within her—like the snap of a bowstring drawn too tight.
“Sunborn?” she echoed. Her gaze locked onto Thorir’s, searching for any trace of jest.
There was none.
“He didn’t tell you?”
Her grip tightened around his hand, crushing the silk of his glove. Of course he hadn’t. Kaelendrin—smiling, bold, wearing those peasant clothes when he challenged other Alpha lords and princes—wasn’t the sort to parade such titles.
But . . . Sunborn?
Reiya swallowed, trying to calm the tremor in her chest. Sunborns were more than rare—they were legends in flesh.
Warriors blessed by Solthar himself, harbingers of golden eras.
But it wasn’t just their strength or the omen of their birth that set them apart.
They carried an undeniable pull, a presence that turned heads, bent wills, and commanded devotion without effort.
The realization settled sharp and unwelcome.
He had danced with her, teased her, met her gaze like any other man. And she—foolishly—had let herself believe it was equal. That her laughter had been hers to give.
But it hadn’t been, had it?
Her stomach twisted. Of course he knew precisely what to say, how to look at her, how to tilt his head just so.
His Sunborn gaze—bright, impossible to ignore—drew her in as easily as the tide followed the moon.
His presence wrapped around her, blurring the lines between choice and instinct, until she couldn’t tell where his influence ended and her own will began.
And she had laughed with him— laughed —as if it’d been her own decision .
Her pulse quickened, and she clenched his hand until her knuckles whitened, as if that might somehow quell the shake threatening to creep in.
In the face of her silence, and under the pressure of her grip, Thorir’s expression softened, a rare glimpse of the brother beneath the stoic figure.
“Rei, this world . . . it isn’t kind to Omegas—especially ones without a protector.
Many Omegas have gone missing during the last few years.
Kidnapped, enslaved, smuggled out of Issoirea, no one knows.
With Kaelendrin and Alarik by your side, you’ll have two Alphas who’d do anything to keep you safe. ”
Yes, the world wasn’t kind to Omegas—she’d heard the stories of Omegas taken from their homes by force, even married ones, only to vanish or be dragged into forced unions with new Alphas.
Some were rumoured to vanish into the underground Omega auction in the city of Bashkor, a bustling trade hub known as much for its legitimate commerce as its illegal dealings.
But as Thorir spoke of Kaelendrin and Alarik—two Alphas, two shields between her and the world—another realization twisted in her chest.
Their ultimate goal wouldn’t be to protect her. It would be to possess her.
Two Alphas didn’t mean twice the freedom. It meant twice the shackles, double the cage.
With that realization, something inside her snapped—clean and sudden. The ache that had simmered beneath the surface ignited, burning away the last remnants of restraint.
Enough of this.
She had swallowed their expectations, worn the mask of obedience, and waited for far too long.
Before she could think twice, Reiya spun on her heel, her decision crystallizing with every step.
The silk of her gown brushed against her legs as she strode away, cool and slippery against her heated skin.
Thorir called after her, his voice distant, but she didn’t falter.
Her heart drummed against her ribcage, each beat an echo of defiance.
Dancing couples parted, their smiles faltering into curiosity as she glided between them.
Let them watch. Let them wonder.
By the time they realized what she’d done, it would already be too late.