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Somehow,thatmisdeed went unpunished, clear proof that the law doesn’t apply to everyone. All I’ve managed to glean from snippets of conversations is that Gustav and the general, both Alphas, wanted an Omega. The Omega chose Gustav, and the general’s refusal to accept the rejection led to a fight and Gustav’s death.
It doesn’t sound too far-fetched. I knew Gustav as a brash, impulsive, aggressive man who always made me regret entering any room he was in, but none of it made him deserving of being killed at twenty-four. When I asked Lennart why Lord Larsen hadn’t petitioned the council to have the general deposed, he had no answer for me.
But I think I know why. I think it has to do with Gabriel Agard and the way he managed the impossible. Most commoners can only advance so far in the army, but he was quickly promoted through the ranks. The allegiances he built within the military somehow allowed him to convince the lieutenant generals to elect him as their leader at the unprecedented age of twenty-five. The same assembly of lieutenant generals had a long history of accepting bribes from the Great Houses to install pliable, friendly patsies in the highest positions of power. They must have seen something different in Gabriel Agard, something worth more than any payoff.
Being part of the military is risky, dirty grunt work. All soldiers are trained engineers, directly responsible for the stronghold’s survival, but the gratitude of the population didn’t come with political power—until Gabriel Agard. And despite him being, as many have put it,an uneducated brute who came from nowhere, his rule has been surprisingly thoughtful and democratic. Where previous generals extracted as much labor as possible from commoners and prioritized the noble-born, the current general has focused on redistributing resources to the commoners, taxing the Great Houses to restructure the lower levels, and making sure that all children are clothed and fed. Since he came into power, we healers have had more supplies than ever before.
What the general has accomplished is everything my father wished and worked tirelessly for from the inside, and it breaks my heart that Dad died too early to see it with his own eyes.
But General Agard is also a violent, hotheaded, selfish Alpha. He has launched strikes against his political enemies and has killed dozens of innocent guards solely because of their allegiance to a House. Above all, the business with Gustav showed the world how the general sees Omegas: as playthings, his for the taking.
I’ve never been a fan of the noble-born and their entitlement—in fact, I am mating with Lennartdespiteand notbecause ofhis background—but General Agard is cut from the same arrogant, self-important cloth, and while his reforms may be admirable, he clearly considers himself above our laws. And that, I cannot respect.
“Is this about Lord Larson still seeking revenge for Gustav?” I ask Lara.
She nods. “I think so. Gustav was an asshole, but we all loved him. This isn’t going anywhere good. Can you…?” She holds my hands. “Lennart respects you so much, Sof, and I don’t want my little brother involved in any of my father’s retaliatory plans. Will you talk to him?”
My heart softens. “Of course. I don’t want you to lose two brothers.”
“After the mating,” she hastens to add. “Not on the day you actually become my sister.”
I laugh. “You mean, I should do it tomorrow? When I’m stuck being a Larsen, too, and have nowhere to run if your father gets mad at me?”
“Precisely. Welcome to fighting the system from the inside out. You’ll have plenty of time for that, since you won’t have to work anymore.”
“What? No. We’ve been over this.” My shoulders slump. “I’m not going to stop being a healer just because I’m mating. I can do a lot of good.”
“Oh,Iknow that. I’m not sure my mother or Lennart do, so?—”
Lara stops right as the door opens, and her mother steps in.
“Oh, there you are. We’ve been looking all over for—” Her eyes trail down my healer uniform, which is wrinkled, and ripped, and splattered all over with not-so-mysterious red stains.
“Sorry.” I grin.
Lady Larsen shakes her head, not quite hiding her own smile. “I bet you are. And that’s why I won’t mention that bruise darkening around your eye. Lara, honey, will you call off the bridal search party I had to quickly put together, then tell the maids to bring in the dress?”
“Yes, Mama.” She presses a kiss to her mother’s cheek and leaves.
With an arm around my shoulders, Lady Larsen whisks me to the sonic shower, and twenty minutes later I sit in front of the circular wall mirror in Lara’s room as two members of her staff work tirelessly to turn me into something stunning—while tormenting my poor, throbbing cheekbone.
“Not so much blush, Peter,” Lady Larsen instructs. “Her complexion is already rosy as it is. We wouldn’t want Lennart to think his mate is about to faint from agitation. Don’t worry, Sofia, you are already so pretty. And we managed to hide the black eye. Here, have a sip of tea. I had it made just for you.”
I know I’m pretty. Even when my self-doubt was at its highest, I’ve always known that my looks are pleasing. Lennart is obviously attracted to me, and since he’s the only person with whom I’ve ever considered sharing my bed—the only person who has shown interest in doing so, even when faced with my shortcomings—that should be the end of my ruminating.
But being pretty and being a pretty Omega are different things. I’m not petite and soft-fleshed and luscious. Very little about my lean body suggests nurturing abundance and parental welcome, and my muscles have the kind of strength and suppleness that one wouldn’t be surprised to find on any other designation.
For a while, I believed that I would reach puberty and present as an Alpha. Or not present at all and realize that I was a Beta, just like my parents. The older I got, the more likely the latter seemed. And then, in my late teens, my jaw and neck started itching. I knew immediately what it meant, but I didn’t allow myself to believe it until the healer with whom I’d been training confirmed that my scent glands were emerging. Alphas had those, too, but only at the base of their necks. The rough mark throbbing between my shoulder blades clearly identified me as one thing:
Omega.
My perception of my future required some adjustment, but I could embrace it. As a designation, it was highly compatible with my dream job of being a healer. I’d always been nurturing, always wanted to have a family, and the kind of bond that could form between an Alpha and an Omega who chose each other…Icravedthat. The more I thought about it, the more I loved the idea of being someone’s Omega. It was as though so many of my deepest desires were finally clicking into place. I began eagerly awaiting my first heat, which would signal that I had fully presented.
But it never came. Years and infinite medical tests later, my scent hasn’t developed. I never matured into my Omega designation. I’ll never be able to form a complete bond with an Alpha.
According the world, I am defective. Unfinished. And despite all that, Lennart still asked me to become his mate.
“Here. Spectacular.” Lady Larsen finishes braiding a strand of natural pearls through my hair, then catches my eyes through the mirror. “Are you happy?”
