Pre-Sundering entries show a different pattern entirely. Montgomery women listed as "natural omegas" with successful bondings, long lives, many children. The bloodline was strong then, when magic flowed freely between worlds.
Then comes the gap—five hundred years of silence during the Sundering, when the worlds were severed and magic nearly died. The few records that exist from that time show women born with omega nature who never awakened, never knew what they were. They lived and died as ordinary humans, their potential locked away.
When the worlds reconnected fifty years ago, everything changed. The records resume with desperate attempts to awaken dormant bloodlines:
Eleanor Montgomery (b. 1756, died during Sundering). Potential omega, never awakened. Lived as human.
Catherine Montgomery (b. 1802, claimed 1855). First post-Sundering attempt. Partial awakening during magical intervention, lost in childbirth attempting transformation.
Margaret Montgomery (b. 1843, observed 1865). Omega nature detected but dormant. Died before awakening could be attempted.
Elizabeth Montgomery (b. 1851, died 1866). Strong potential, promising fire, fever took her during failed awakening ritual.
Anna Montgomery (b. 1864, claimed 1884). Successfully awakened, claimed by Stone Court alpha, but faded within the year—insufficient bond strength.
And then, at the bottom, in Aratus's distinctive handwriting:
Elise Montgomery (b. 1885). Exceptional potential. First natural awakening since reconnection. Fire unlike any previous generation. Begin watching at debut. Claim when fully ripened.
My hands shake as I turn the page. There's more—a separate journal, leather-bound and worn, documenting my entire life from the outside. Twenty years of observation, analysis, planning.
Year One of Watching: The girl shows remarkable fire for one so young. Tantrums that could power small cities. Her emptiness grows with each year, making her perfect for eventual claiming.
Year Three: Father's debts mount beautifully. The shipping ventures I've guided toward failure are bankrupting him slowly. Soon I'll have legal justification for collection.
Year Five: She threw crystal at a servant today for bringing the wrong tea. The rage burns hotter even as her omega nature ripens beneath the surface. She'll be magnificent when broken properly.
Year Eight: Almost ready. The hollow ache in her is visible now, driving her to increasingly desperate attempts to feel something real. Perfect.
Year Twelve: First signs of magical sensitivity. She's unconsciously responding to alpha pheromones in crowded rooms, though she doesn't understand what's happening to her.
Year Fifteen: The transformation window is opening. Her scent carries omega potential now, faint but unmistakable to those who know how to detect it.
Year Twenty: Collection time. She's reached peak ripeness—old enough to survive transformation, young enough to mold completely. The emptiness in her soul will make bonding easier. She's been starving for what only an alpha can provide.
Page after page of my private moments, documented and analyzed like a scientist studying a specimen. My tantrums, myemptiness, my desperate search for something to fill the void inside me. The way I threw objects when frustrated, the way I withdrew when nothing brought satisfaction, the way I raged against a world that never gave me what I needed.
All of it recorded by the man who planned to become that something.
Every rebellion cataloged as proof of my need for control. Every moment of loneliness noted as evidence of my readiness for bonding. Every desperate attempt to feel alive turned into justification for what he would do to me.
I run to the nearest waste basket and vomit until my stomach is empty, my transformed body rejecting the horror of understanding with violent revulsion.
When Aratus finds me there twenty minutes later, shaking and sick, he doesn't offer comfort. Just watches me with those cold eyes while I wipe bile from my lips with trembling fingers.
"You've been hunting my family for centuries," I whisper.
"Yes."
"Breeding us like livestock."
"Carefully selecting for desired traits, yes." No apology in his voice. No shame or regret. Just calm acknowledgment of facts. "The omega gift is rare. It requires cultivation."
"I was never a person to you. Just a project."
"You were both." He moves closer, and I hate how my body relaxes slightly at his proximity. "Your bloodline carries old magic, Elise. Fae magic that's been sleeping, waiting for the right alpha to wake it up."
"And if I'd died during transformation? Like the others?"
