Page 2 of Omega's Reign

I glance over my shoulder, deciding against turning around. If I return to the throne, I might not leave the safety of my sanctuary for another hour. The longer I take, the longer the alphas stay. The longer my pack has to suffer by being courteous to those who don’t think we are good enough yet.

But they’re going to quickly learn exactly what kind of power I have.

Jordan picks up his pace at the sight of the arched entryway to the dining hall. He wants to enter before me, ensuring it’s safe to do so. I let him lead, swinging our hands back and forth, wishing I could just return to my room. I never thought I’d be such a recluse after being hidden from my father before his death. He tried to use me to gain power outside of Saint Vista by offering me to a malicious pack. My brothers disapproved of the pack our father had chosen for me, knowing how awful Righteous Waters treated omegas, and they helped me fake my death to escape my fate. They blamed Righteous Waters, framing them for my supposed murder, so we wouldn’t have to worry about them. Now with my father dead and the power shift to us, it guarantees it. No one can decide on my mates except for me.

And I chose the Silversteins.

My heart races at the sight of the rest of my pack, gathered at the table with a handful of men and one woman—those who are alphas and leaders within the Platinum Shores territory. There were a few dozen after the Pack Regimes’ reorganization with the cruelest of them all dead like my father, but those alphas were stripped of power by me and the Silversteins with the backing of the new leaders of Saint Vista and all the territories within it.

“Announcing Her Majesty,” Jordan says, calling attention from the room.

The alphas get to their feet but don’t bow as they would for someone else. I try not to let it get to me—it’s been engrained in their very instincts to disregard an omega, especially one bonded with another pack—and they’ve been taught not to approach or speak to me.

I hate it.

Despite being an omega, I’m not used to it. These customs should be banished, and this has to be where it starts.

“Thank you for your patience. I needed a clear head before this conversation. I know that things are happening quickly and are unfamiliar to you all, considering who your former leader of the Pack Regimes was, so I want to get this over with now. I need a census done for each of your areas with every alpha and omega. All packs must be interviewed, and then my trusted counsel will help me make the final decision for whether or not your omegas are safe, in good health, and actually want to be with their packs. We’re no longer allowing buying and trading to strengthen your power. Omegas will come first under my reign. Do you understand?”

Heavy silence greets me, and I straighten my shoulders and walk around the long dining table within the ballroom, the same one used by the former leader of this territory. I should redecorate but refurnishing a palace of this size would take away the time I need to ensure my people get what they need.

“Hello? I asked if you understood.” I stop at the head of the table, flicking my attention to Jordan before eyeing Beckett.

“When Holly speaks to you, you need to respond. We will not tolerate this sort of disrespect. She has been placed as a leader of the Pack Regimes.” Beckett growls with his words, pressing his palms to the wooden table. “Now do you understand? The census must be done immediately. You have one week.”

“Yes, we understand,” the twelve alphas say in unison, speaking to Beckett instead of me.

I don’t know what pisses me off more. The fact that they pretend to respond to me or the fact that Beckett has to demand such things.

“Make it three days,” I say, staring at an alpha to my right, one who hasn’t even tried to look at me. “I want to open the Omega Haven immediately without giving anyone too much of a chance to retaliate or try to traffic their omegas out of Platinum Shores.”

“Three days!” The man finally jerks his attention to me, his mouth turning downward. “That isn’t nearly enough time. I police over a hundred packs. This will cause unnecessary unrest and jeopardize—”

I hold my hand up, cutting him off. “But a week is acceptable? Would you have reacted the same had Beckett demanded three days?” Because I sure as hell don’t think he would’ve. I got under his skin with my shortening of time, using my authority to do so.

The alpha growls without voicing his admission. I know I’m right.

“If Her Majesty believes you can handle things in three days, I’d do your best to prove her right. Show her you are worthy of maintaining your position.” Beckett slides his arm around my waist, addressing the group as a whole. “However, if you need more time, take the week offered. We’ll evaluate things based on how well your pack completes a simple data gathering task you all should have readily available already.” He turns his head to me, closing the space, his heady scent of spice and citrus wafting over my senses. “Anything else, Your Majesty?” he asks, his voice deepening with the softness of his whisper.

It’s hard to be annoyed at him for keeping the situation under control. That’s a “me” problem, anyway. I just want to be obeyed and respected without having an alpha constantly reiterate the fact that what I say goes.

I turn to the group. “I’d like to meet your packs’ omegas again. Tomorrow. We’ll have a gathering here. Do not dress them up if they don’t want to. Allow them to wear whatever makes them feel comfortable. It’s casual.” Without waiting for them to respond, I offer my hand out to Beckett. I don’t want him saying the final word or echoing my instructions.

I just want to leave.

So that’s what I do.

We leave together, entrusting that the rest of the Silversteins will see the alphas out.

I don’t look back.

2

Putting Alphas in Their Places

Holly

“I don’t know whether I’m impressed or infuriated, Holly. You know we have to ease into things if we don’t want any problems.” Beckett crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe to my bedroom suite. He has never come in uninvited despite how many times I’ve told him he’s always welcome.

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