Page 5 of Consort

It’s the way of shifters, they say. But I say it’s bullshit.

My life will not be dictated by others, especially not some arrogant Alpha. I want to choose a mate for myself or at least have the freedom to be alone. The thought of becoming anyone’s possession makes me want to set the whole camp on fire. I’m worth more than that, even if every other shifter in Faerie disagrees with me.

Frustrated, I dig a hole in the soft dirt near the stream and shove my sleeping clothes and undergarment inside. A growl slips out as I stare at the proof of my unwanted designation.After dropping in what’s left of the soap, I cover everything up with soil and pack it down tightly.

I’ll need a better fix than this.

I turn and tiptoe back through camp, planning to hide under my blanket for the rest of the day. I’m careful to avoid eye contact with any of the shifters milling about along the way. Thankfully, the Alphas begin their hunt in the early morning, so the guards are the only ones around. And they’re all on the perimeter. None of the Betas sipping their coffee are going to pick up any traces of Omega on me.

Shifters don’t live in huts like the fae. Most of us use large tents that can be quickly packed up and moved. The fae hate us and any other species who isn’t like them. They usually won’t attack an entire pack with many Alphas protecting it, but we have to be prepared to move suddenly, just in case.

Our pack hasn’t been attacked in my lifetime, but I’ve heard stories of fae raids. I don’t know if every fae is bad, but the raids are awful enough to make our kind fear them all.

They storm into camps, led by the queen’s soldiers, who possess magic we could never defend ourselves against. They kill and take what little we have. Their hate makes no sense. We have nothing of value, and we keep to ourselves, not hurting anyone. I’ve never heard of a shifter who dared to challenge the queen. Yet, they treat us like enemies, so we have to flee if we find too many lingering nearby.

When my family’s tent comes into view, I find my mother heading toward the entrance, clutching a bundle of herbs. Her long, black braid matches my own, though mine is a tangled mess at the moment from all my panicking.

I quickly slip inside before she can enter, startling her. After a moment, she pulls the flap back and joins me.

“What’s got you so lively today?” she asks with a warm smile.

I burst into tears, unable to hold my anger above my worrynow that I’m with her. I’ll need to find a way to shut down all these pathetic Omega emotions, but for now, I just need my mother to hold me.

With a soft gasp at my outburst, she sets the herbs down on our small table and wraps me in her arms. “What’s troubling you, my little pup?”

“I’m not a pup anymore, Mother,” I sniff, clinging to her as if she can fix this.

She waits patiently for me to calm down while gently wiping away each tear as it falls. Once I finally feel steady enough to speak, I whisper, “I’m an Omega.”

My stomach roils with the admission, but hiding in my delusion won’t help. I need a solution.

My mother stiffens and turns to look at my face. Her chest rises in little jumps as she scents me. “Well, I don’t smell Omega, Rue. Why do you think this?”

It should ease my mind that she can’t scent it on me, but she’s just a Beta. This close, an Alpha would have no trouble picking up on any lingering traces I may have missed.

“I woke with slick in my undergarment, Mother. That’s why.”

Dread replaces the doubt on her face. The same dread I was tackled by when I realized what I’d become. She swallows hard but quickly tries to sound encouraging. Her words are shaky because she knows they aren’t entirely true.

“The Prime is a respectable Alpha, dear.”

Our Prime, Bock, recently lost his Luna–his Omega mate. He’s been waiting for one of our pack’s juveniles to present as an Omega and become his new Luna. So, lucky me… I’m to be the replacement.

The idea of being forced to mate any Alpha is repulsive enough, but the Prime is the last Alpha I would want to be bound to. He may be a powerful leader and generous provider, but he tries to distributeeverythingevenly. Even things that shouldnever be shared.

“It will be an honor to be our pack’s Luna, dear,” my mother says quietly, still trying to reassure me.

“An honor?” I hiss, pulling away from her. “Like it was for our last Luna? The one who abandoned her young and fled, finding a fae to put her out of her misery? Is that the kind of honor you’re referring to?”

My mother doesn’t argue. She can’t. Our Luna looked haggard most of the time as she handled her duties for the pack. She’d smile, but it never quite reached her eyes. She was beautiful but in a sad, far-off kind of way.

There were three Omegas in our pack before the Luna was killed. How she got away unaccompanied is a mystery, but I have no doubt in my mind she was looking for death. I don’t think Bock ever physically hurt her, but he proudly offered her up during her heats and whenever his Alphas had an itch their Beta mates couldn’t scratch.

He sees it as an honorable thing, providing a scarce resource for his most esteemed Alpha soldiers. He offered up his own Omega so the other two Omegas in the pack could honor their mates in peace.

Ideally, a shifter would find their scent match–their fated mate. But that’s so rare that no one waits around for it. And Omegas are so scarce, an Alpha is lucky to have a chance with one at all. So, the Alphas think Bock sharing his Omega is fantastic. But how horrible and degrading for the poor Luna herself.

I doubt she ever protested, though. That’s not something good Omegas do.

---