Page 4 of Fated or Knot

My essence, the purple hue I’d once carried in my wings and hair, was almost gone. The shoulder-length strands hanging down around my face were a snowy white, my wings ashen. Even now, I regretted how naive my six-year-old self had been for not realizing Cymora was going to trick me into a deal after my father’s funeral. And now I could tell no one why I was fading, not even myself, since she’d forbidden me from speaking of it.

I had to get away from her and her orders before they destroyed me for good. There was still a chance I could start over in a sanctuary city, where only omegas and betas were allowed to live. But first, I had to hide the dark circles under my eyes and the fact I didn’t have a traditional dress to wear to the Omega Masquerade. I used the makeup spread across the vanity to cover up what I could and to put some color back on my lips.

Next, I dressed in my newest servant’s dress and put my smock back on, then dug around the bags until I found what I needed—a pair of Laurel’s amethyst studs and the spare mask I’d snuck into a side pocket and hidden under my nightclothes.

The mask was the first one I’d designed for my stepsister, but she’d turned her nose up at it, saying it wasn’t fit for a mermaidor what she’d appear to be at the event, a pixie with water fae parentage. I’d kept it and poured my essence into it when there was some to be spared. The fabric was designed in the shape of leaves around the eyeholes, with a butterfly made of genuine silver on the brow, large enough to cover the skin where a pack mark would rest.

Travel, or Laurel’s rough handling, had warped the butterfly’s slender wings and bent its little wire antennae, but it was still the key to my freedom. I tied it to my face and activated the essence imbued within it. In the mirror, I adjusted myself. I made my servant’s clothes into a pixie dress, silver and purple hugging the curve of my waist. Soundless bells rested against my thighs.

There was still a bit of magic left in the mask to complete the illusion. With the amethysts pinned to my ears, I copied their color to spread to my wings. Numbness returned to my arms, creeping swiftly from my fingertips this time, but I cut off the magic before I grew too dizzy.

A lavender pixie glowed in the mirror, chest rising as I gasped. “It’s not real,” I whispered to ground myself.

However, I couldn’t help a shimmy to admire the fake dress and the washed-out purple I’d coated my wings with. There was nothing I could do for my hair color, but that was okay. For a few short hours before I ran, I could have one of the things Cymora didn’t want for me: to be myself, an omega. I would beseen.

I’d meet the same wealthy alphas as Laurel. Maybe even let them get close enough for a sniff so my scent would distract them. I’d been practicing my pickpocketing skills, after all. How else was I going to get the coin required to leave Ilysnor before my stepfamily recaptured me?

3

LARK

The sun set while I navigated to the castle through noisy crowds of beta revelers around each street corner. Even though I cringed at every touch, both accidental and not, I didn’t have any essence to spare to fly to my destination. Besides, I needed to slip in after the presenting ceremony, where each and every omega walked in on the arm of their guardian while the attending alphas looked on.

Cymora had been planning for this moment meticulously. That was the only reason I knew it existed. My lack of an introduction shouldn’t matter—I had to focus on what did. I was there to steal enough valuables to afford a magirail ticket and the services of an essence spinner to touch up my suppressant tattoo before my journey away from Ilysnor. In the process, I might enjoy the attention of a few alphas before I left to start my new life in the one place my stepfamily and Pack Ellisar wouldn’t find me.

My foot dragged painfully after blocks of dodging the celebrating fae, and my anxiety was at an all-time high. There were so many fae here, and I was an omega on her own. Anumber of awful things could’ve happened under the anonymity of a crowd, so I kept as alert as possible for potential danger.

Don’t bring attention to yourself.I tried not to jump from every shadow and motion of those around me. It only earned me glances and perusals of my illusioned-on dress.

Any drunken, grasping fae that noticed me were typically reaching for my body, not my mask. Habitually, I checked the edges of it, making sure it was still secured. By the time I made it to the closed gate in front of the castle grounds, extra tendrils of fatigue pulled at my limbs. I briefly considered taking a nap behind one of the shrubs in the castle gardens.

Still, I kept my voice light for the pair of guardsmen standing sentinel behind the gate. “Am I too late for the Omega Masquerade?” I asked, fluttering my lashes with a forced, tired laugh. “I, um, took too long getting ready.”

The pair of betas exchanged a glance. They had the power to turn me away and ruin my plan without cause or remorse. The seconds passed with excruciating sluggishness as they spoke behind their hands and gestured before coming to a decision.

“Right this way, miss,” the one on the left said, opening the gate long enough for me to slip inside.

Not all betas are like Cymora and Laurel,I reminded myself in relief. The guard seemed surprisingly nice. He even offered his arm with a friendly smile.

I wavered, unsure why he’d extended his elbow my way. I’d seen other females rest a hand on the forearm of their companions. I tentatively placed my hand on his arm before he gently took my fingers and fixed them to rest properly in the crook of his elbow. Then he steered me up the path to the event. The stone walkway was lined with spring blooms glowing brightly with essence from within.

“You’ve missed the presenting ceremony, I’m afraid. I could still try to announce you, if you’d like?” the guard offered. Heslowed his stride, shifting to accommodate a particularly bad limp that sent fractals of pain up my right leg.

“No,” I puffed out. “That…that’s okay.”

He glanced down at me, face creased with concern. “Where is your guardian, miss?” Once we entered the castle, I saw that he was a forest elf with strands of gray shot through his leaf-green hair. He had kind eyes, though I suspected he saw more of my secrets than I would’ve liked. I hadn’t expected anyone to care enough to ask that question.

In an unguarded moment, I said, “I am without one.” Like any fae, I couldn’t lie, but I still kicked myself a moment later for telling the whole truth to this stranger.

His brows rose past the visor of his helmet. “In that case, at least let me escort you to the royal pack,” he said.

“No…I don’t…” I stammered.

“It’s protocol, miss. The queen greets every omega who attends the masquerade.” His face smoothed into a comforting look. “She’s the kindest female I’ve ever worked for. You have nothing to worry about.”

He’d led me through a couple of corridors, to a spiraling staircase that took us a while to climb. My cheeks burned like little suns as I puffed and struggled. The guard became one of my favorite people by providing his support along the way and not commenting.

Eventually, we made it to the top of a railing looking over a ballroom in full swing. We were on eye level with a chandelier dripping with specialized essence that glimmered in crystalized drops, providing gentle illumination for the sight below us. The ballroom was gigantic, lined on all sides by massive windowpanes adorned with ornate drapes.

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