Page 135 of Ruled By The Alpha

He was my friend when he came to check on me because I failed to appear for muster. He was my friend when he found me delirious and thrashing in the madness of my first Heat. He was my friend when my Heat triggered his Rut. And he was my friend when he died, gaping and roaring, blood on his mouth and hands from his newly descended fangs and claws, blood exploding red and hot to paint my face when I drove my broadsword through his chest.

Because he was not my Alpha. No more than this man who has traveled so far to handfast with me is my Alpha. And when I tell Tuvarr Justlinn Tomarrson these truths, the only question that will remain is whether he kills me himself or forces me South to meet the new King’s justice.

My mother, who looked at me even more strangely when I told her I could feel my Alpha than when I was presented to her as a newly Revealed Omega, picks up another lily and positions it behind my ear. “I know you have odd notions about this mating, Kieran. I beg you not to discuss them with Tuvarr Tomarrson today.”

“Forgive me, lady mother, I cannot lie.” No lie has passed my lips since I took up my sword. That was my oath to the Mother. My sacrifice for wearing one of her blessed blades. I know my mother thinks that my oath is moot now that I’ve Revealed as an Omega and my sword’s been taken away. But I still feel the Mother’s blessing in my heart, and until she lifts her hand from me, I will not break my oath.

Some might say that in cursing me to be an Omega, the Mother has taken her hand very, very far away.

“It’s not a lie if the words remain unsaid, dear heart,” my mother admonishes gently.

It is. Lies of omission blacken the Mother’s eyes just as much as any other lie.

“Thank you for your wisdom, lady mother,” I say.

She brushes her lips across my cheek without disturbing the powder Rivvard has layered there.

“I’ve had the small parlor readied so you can speak in comfort. Remember, there is no shame in letting your lord enjoy the privileges of an Alpha before the ceremony. It is the King’s own wish you two mate. He has come so far to take your hand; he will not reject you now.”

It is a slight comfort that she thinks so, but then, my mother knows little of the world. She is a perfect Omega, who went from her father’s smallholding on the Broken Islands to my father’s much larger holding on her handfasting. In the thirty years since, she has barely ever left the Omega’s Tower, other than to visit blood relations and to attend the three Kingfests.

I was an Alpha. I have known much of the world. And I know it is not kind.

This Tuvarr Tomarrson, who I met at the new King’s coronation and have less memory of than what I ate for breakfast the morning I met him, will not be kind to such an unsatisfactory, unappealing mate.

“Thank you, lady mother,” I say simply, not wishing to vex her.

She pats Rivvard’s shoulder. “Finish up now, lad, then come to my receiving room for tea and cakes while Kieran speaks with her new lord.”

“I’d be honored, lady Karli,” Rivvard says, without the sarcasm that would taint my tone if I was invited to tea with mymother and the four other Tower Omegas. Not that I ever have been to tea in the Tower, even after my Reveal. I doubt I could even sit in one of the delicate chairs in my mother’s receiving room without crushing it.

My mother brushes her lips across my cheek again before sweeping from my room. My rose-red gown and Rivvard’s basket of flowers and unguents are the only spots of color in this barren stone room. Once I Revealed, I could not stay in my room in the guard barracks, with its good afternoon light and wooden walls carved with the Mother’s Twenty Trials, which I began carving when I was nine and only finished a year ago. But neither could I bear to move into the Omega’s Tower. To keep the peace, my father quietly moved my bed and trunk and desk from my room in the barracks to my brother’s childhood room in the Great Hall one day while I was out riding. But he could not move my carvings, so this room is bare.

Except for Rivvard, who adorns any room he’s in. His hair is a sunbeam, falling in perfect waves to his ankles. His skin is porcelain, barely ever touched by wind or sun. A sharp contrast to my brown complexion, despite his efforts with the powder. His eyes sparkle like new leaves after the dew has fallen, in a delicate-boned face that’s always gently smiling, no matter how dire the situation. I return his smile in the glass as he fastens the last braid with a jeweled pin and tucks a lily into it.

“Don’t let the Alpha muss this hair,” he murmurs, low and sweet.

I chuckle. “I doubt that’s the Alpha’s main concern.”

“An Omega’s rituals are never an Alpha’s main concern. Let him stick his hands under your robes if he has to but tell him to keep his paws out of your hair.” Rivvard brushes a kiss across my cheek in the same manner as my mother.

If things had gone as they should, we would be sharing impassioned kisses today. We would already have known thebliss only an Alpha and an Omega can share. If the Mother blessed us, we might already be bearing the next generation of Feann Alphas and Omegas, since Alpha and Omega pairings almost always breed true, and the Omega takes the Alpha’s house.

Tomorrow, if I’m still alive, I will no longer be of House Feann, with its roots in the ancient Vonna who settled these lands before the Isvaultinn were a twinkle in the Mad God’s eye. Instead, I’ll be the newest Omega of House Tomarr, minted a mere half-century ago when Justlinn Tomarrson threw his lot in with the new King’s uncle and earned himself lands and a title.

Rivvard finishes his fussing. “Kieran, I know you’ll have other, more pressing matters to discuss with the Tuvarr today, but if you could spare a moment to convey my request?”

“I will,” I promise.

Rivvard has remained with me, and wishes to remain with me, despite the fact I can never mate him. There are few female Alphas, many fewer than male Omegas. If Rivvard returned to his father’s house now, he’d only be sold again, likely to a male Alpha. Rivvard begged me to help him avoid that fate, even if it meant life as my attendant.

If I survive today, I will ensure that Rivvard’s future is brighter than my own.

He gives me another air-kiss and follows my mother’s path, leaving a trail of his exotic wood scent that blends pleasantly with my mother’s floral perfume.

I scratch at my hair, where several pins are poking into my scalp. A real Omega would never feel the pins sticking her, or shiver in silk robes because she felt naked and vulnerable without her leather armor, or miss her broadsword like a lost limb.

Prickling, shivering, stunted, I follow the trail of Omega perfume out of my brother’s childhood room, which still smellsmore strongly of him than me, turning left when the Omegas’s trail turns right, and descend to the main level where my fate awaits.

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