Page 54 of Unlikely Omega

My face is burning. “Whatever.”

“We were different species, us humans and the Fae. But close enough to interbreed. The alphas and omegas are remnants of that mixture. That’s how the Fae reproduce, you know. They are the ones who named the rest of us ‘humans.’ It was a contemptuous term. And now we despise what they left behind.”

“What does it matter? I’m not Fae. And… and I won’t do anything, so can you just tell the Temple and these military oafs to get off my back? I’m just an acolyte of Artume. Nothing more.”

“They are scared,” he says.

“I noticed.”

“There is a prophecy about the Fae omegas,” he goes on.

“I heard. But there are no Fae left in the world,” I say, my lips numb. “And prophecies are often a load of crap.”

“You’re right, there aren’t any more full-blooded Fae. We made sure of that. But in some of us, the Fae blood still runs strong, and the prophecy says that omegas will rise with enough Fae in them to breed more.”

“More what?”

“More Fae. A Fae omega awakens her alphas. She will know instinctively who they are. And together they will turn the wheel of fate.”

“I’m not…” I swallow hard, my throat too dry. “I’m not a Fae omega.” The lie is starting to feel uncomfortable on my lips. The truth is inescapable. “And I don’t believe in prophecies or fated mates.”

“Ah, but what if fate believes in you?”

“What does that even mean?” I lift my chin. “I don’t understand.”

“It means,” he says, “that I have other uses for you. We’re leaving.”

“Stop it.” He’s gripping my wrist in a bruising hold and no matter how hard I pull away, I can’t get him to let go. Men are so frigging strong. How many times do I have to try and get away to accept that I can’t? It feels like I’ve been doing nothing else in the past few days. “I’m not going with you.”

“Shut up.” He pulls me out of a vertical cut he’s made in the back of his tent. “If you yell or otherwise make noise, I’m gagging you.”

“You wouldn’t.” I gasp when he drags me through the narrow opening and out into the frigid air. Damn, I’m still in my wet garments and the wind is icy. “What will you do with me?”

“Being an army priest isn’t easy.”

“So, what, you’ll trade me for a better post?” I ask, appalled.

“That’s a thought. But I may have a better idea.”

“What idea?” I resist his pull but he yanks me forward so hard I almost fall to my knees. “I won’t leave Finn.”

“The priest who traveled with you, I presume? I have no use for him.”

“I don’t care. I’m not leaving him.”

“Who told you that you have the power to do as you please? Nobody asked you for your opinion. Come on, the guards won’t stop us. They know me.”

“And what will you do, sell me?”

“If the coin is good. There are men who like to keep a menagerie.”

Bile rises in my throat. “You’re a priest. You wouldn’t anger the gods by selling an acolyte!”

“You think the gods are flawless and virtuous?” He yanks viciously on my wrist and I stumble after him, past a horses’ pen. “Have you even read the myths of the Twelve? Or worse, the Thirteen Fae gods before them? They raped and pillaged, much like the race who passed them on to us.”

“I don’t believe the Fae were as bad as the stories make them out to be,” I say, and not only because I want to be contrary—which I very much do.

“Then you’re stupid. They were worse. Then again, so were we. Keep moving. Time is of the essence.”

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