In exceptional circumstances, a pack may decide to Deny an omega at the conclusion of the Bonding Trials.
Denial should only be considered in extreme circumstances. Should an omega be Denied, they will no longer be permitted to come into contact with alpha packs. They will be banished from Navarre and must cross the wall into Herrith. All contact with Navarre will be banned.
Please note that no omega has been Denied in the history of the Omega Hub.
We’re delighted to welcome you to the Bonding Trials and wish you the best of luck with your mating process.
Kind regards,
Ollena Hayward
Head of the Omega Hub
Tristan falls back into his seat, the letter held tightly in his hand. “Fucking finally.”
This is everything we’ve talked about. Excitement tingles in my spine.
Sienna Michaels.
“I wonder what she’s like?” Tristan muses, running his hand through his hair.
Logan glances between us, a tic in his jaw. “Sienna Michaels? Is she related to Helena Michaels?”
My brow furrows. “Who?”
Gray stirs. “Helena Michaels. That’s that omega, right?”
Tristan nods, his spine stiffening. “She was Soul Bonded.”
My eyes widen.Soul Bonded.
It’s described as a type of ecstasy. A moment of euphoria, of souls connecting for the first time. Soul Bonding is almost unheard of. I remember the name now, although I’ve never met her. The only Soul Bonded for a hundred years.
I lick my lips. “Think it runs in the family?” I ask hoarsely.
Fuck, I hope so. To have that connection with someone, to be their everything… I can’t think of any better feeling than that.
My hands already itch for my pencil, words flowing to my fingers like a fucking waterfall.
Bonding Trials? Bring it the fuck on.
5
SIENNA
“Ilike the feathers,” my mother says defiantly.
Behind her, Jessalyn pulls a face, and my lips purse as I fight back a grin. We’ve been here for hours, and Jess has had a little too much of the free champagne.
Sighing dramatically, she throws herself down onto a purple chaise lounge, spreading her arms out pleadingly. “Helena, she looks like an ostrich.”
We all turn to peer into the mirror as Madame Dumas huffs. “Nobody leaves my premises looking like an ostrich, Ms Rogers.”
“I think it’s the amount,” I murmur quietly. “Maybe the corsetandthe skirt being covered in feathers is a little too much?”
I do feel like a giant bird. That’s not the impression I want to give my new pack.
Madame Dumas frowns, but nods reluctantly. “I think the skirt looks lovely, Miss. Perhaps some beading on the bodice?”
