Thorir’s jaw ticked. He glanced around, clearly wishing she’d chosen a more private moment. “I did.”
“Why did you stop Leif from telling me? Didn’t I deserve to know?”
Frustration flickered in his eyes, as if wondering why she didn’t grasp it already. “I wanted you to decide without the pact hanging over you—without it swaying you one way or another.”
Her fingers clenched around his. “It’smyfuture. What gave you the right to decide what I should or shouldn’t know?”
Thorir met her gaze evenly. “Now you know. Castiel told you, didn’t he?”
“It doesn’t matter who told me. Are pacts like that common among Alphas?”
He gave a small shrug, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “It’s not uncommon. Omegas have dwindled. There are simply not enough to go around. Sharing ensures Alphas get what they need. It’s logical. Practical.”
Her stomach twisted. “Practical.” The word curdled on her tongue. “Is that what I am? A resource to be rationed?”
Thorir sighed. “Rei, Aethonia is standing with only one Alpha in its royal bloodline. Do you know what that means? How much Father, Mother, and our people fear that one day, a stronger kingdom—one with more Alphas, with a military that dwarfs ours—will simply take over?”
His voice was measured, but an edge ran beneath it, a quiet weight of duty he’d long accepted.
“When you had your Awakening, the entire kingdom rejoiced. Why?” He held her gaze. “Because as an Omega, you have the power tobring another Alpha into the royal line. With Kaelendrin and Alarik interested, you could bringtwo. Do you understand what that means? Aethonia would be stronger. Safer.”
“So it all falls on me, then? To save everyone?”
Thorir’s expression hardened. “You are the Princess of Aethonia. Marrying for national security is your duty.”
Duty. There’d always been duty, but the word had tightened its noose around her neck since her Awakening, spoken by those who never asked if she wanted the life they laid out for her.
She’d been naive to think her choices mattered. That her future was truly hers.
Thorir exhaled slowly. “Two Alphas also means twice the protection for you. In a world like ours, that’s not a small thing.”
Protection.Of course, they’d frame it that way. It sounded reasonable, even noble. Easier to swallow than the truth: she wasn’t a person to them. She was a resource, her worth reduced to what she could provide—whether security or progeny.
Omegas weren’t cherished for who they were, but for what they could do for Alphas: slake their lust, bear their children—preferably Sunborn and Moonfire children.
To them, she was nothing but a necessity, an irreplaceable part of a caste system designed to keep Alphas in control and bloodlines strong. Her future, desires, and freedom were merely afterthoughts, if thoughts at all, sacrificed for the greater good.
Affection, if it ever came, would be a hollow kindness—something doled out to keep her content enough not to rebel. But here was the silver lining: like an endangered animal, she’d be protected, lest she go extinct.
In the end, love was a luxury she was never meant to have.
The realization landed hard and cold. If she allowed such an arrangement, how long would it be before she disappeared entirely? Would there be anything left of herself after everything was taken away?
Inevitability pressing down like an iron shackle. No one asked what she wanted—only that she should submit.
“What else did you keep from me?” she demanded. Torsten had nearly let something slip at the tournament, and they’d yet to address it.
Thorir hesitated. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face before he finally answered. “Prince Kaelendrin is a Sunborn.”
The words landed deceptively simple, yet they shifted something deep within her—like the snap of a bowstring drawn too tight.
“Sunborn?” she echoed. Her gaze locked onto Thorir’s, searching for any trace of jest.
There was none.
“He didn’t tell you?”
Her grip tightened around his hand, crushing the silk of his glove. Of course he hadn’t. Kaelendrin—smiling, bold, wearing those peasant clothes when he challenged other Alpha lords and princes—wasn’t the sort to parade such titles.