Steppinginto the ball is like wading into a tank full of sharks, all eager to sink their teeth into us, but we’re not without friends and allies. Headmaster Langford and his mate, Dr. Sienna Spencer-Langford, sweep ahead of a pack I don’t recognize to greet us, Langford gleefully clapping Ianon the shoulder. The headmaster is a rosy-faced alpha, settling into middle age, but there’s no mistaking his dominance. It holds the worst of the sharks at bay as he leans toward Ian.
“You’re happy,” he observes with a smile that makes his ruddy mustache twitch.
Ian beams, the smile lighting up his face and making his ice-blue eyes sparkle. “I am. More so than I’ve ever been in my life.”
Sienna shoots me a secretive little smile, woman to woman. “You’re radiant, Juniper.” The older omega-turned-beta is just as radiant in a gun-metal silk sheath and matching heels, as at ease in her finery as she is in front of one of her history classes. “You have my congratulations on completing your pack.”
If she picks up on the way my smile falters, she doesn’t mention it, but her sharp, knowing gaze never leaves me as she clasps my hands in hers.
We’re passed off to Pack Leclerc, and Cassian’s mother and fathers waste no time in greeting us, and pulling us, one after the other, into hugs and handshakes. The whole pack is in attendance, even Cassian’s father, Gerard, though the older alpha leans heavily on a cane. Cassian gives me a quick squeeze as I take in the injured mage. Of those involved in the Soldiers of Saint Aldous’ attack on the Council of Nine, my mate’s father bears the worst injuries of those who lived; and Gerard Leclerc may not have lived if not for Ian’s quick work neutralizing and removing the wicked Mark of Baphomet hex. The attack won’t soon be forgotten, the aftershocks still rippling through mage society. We lost two council members, one in the attack and another to her injuries days later. In the chaos of the days following the attack, two new council members were appointed to the Council of Nine, both sympathetic to the Soldiers of SaintAldous. They don’t have a majority on the council—not yet—but the Soldiers have never hesitated to pass legislation at the end of their scribes before. They won’t now. Not as they claim power and pass through order after order while the rest of the council scrambles to right itself. It’s madness, and it’s only going to get worse. The Soldiers want to control omegas at any cost and eradicate those who can’t be controlled.
Omegas like me, I think with a frown, the air of triumph that buoyed me across the dance floor shrinking in my breast.
“Don’t you frown, dear girl,” Bethany says, taking my hands. “Tonight is a night of celebration.”
Cassian’s delicate omega mother is resplendent in the same midnight-blue silk I’ve donned and waves her hand at her son as she demands a picture of us together. Cassian obliges with an indulgent grin before hugging his mother tightly and pulling her into his first dance of the night, and as Beth laughs and twirls, I hardly begrudge her claiming my mate’s first dance.
Our entry into tonight’s ball is so unlike my appearance at last year’s Lunar Ball. Trapped in a collared dress Radcliffe forced me to wear if I wanted Trinity to live, I was scrutinized for any hint of impropriety by my brother, Aspen, and my father. That night, I greeted my family of alphas by bearing my slender, collared neck. An owned omega.
Tonight, I greet my new family with joy. Free.
Free, and in the face of growing injustice, not without my triumphs, my courage, and my thorns.
CHAPTER TWO
“Sister.”
The alpha dominance in the hissed word sends a vicious chill down my spine, but it’s not Aspen that steals me away for my first dance, but Hawthorn. He sweeps me in close and whispers in my ear. “Look pissy and proper. Father’s watching.”
And he is. My alpha father, Redwood Rose, watches me like a hawk, like the calculating predator he is. I send him a serene smile, though I feel anything but. He may not be my legal guardian any longer, but I was foolish to think I’d cut all the puppet strings he wields over me. I realize now, my stomach sinking in my belly, that I’m not free. Though I toppled the first domino, taking out Andrew Radcliffe and avoiding a mating that would have resulted in my torture and death, mating for love instead, my father still has his claws in me—and his strings. With just a few words from my brother, I slipped behind a demure mask of propriety, acting like the omega my father wants me to be.
I turn my attention back to my brother, frowning at the faint lines around his eyes. Saints, my alpha brother isexhausted.He catches my grimace, always more perceptive than I think he is. “Father is up to something,” he says, his tone low enough that only I can hear him. “He recovered from his disappointment with Rad’s project far too quickly. He’s been off… distracted. I don’t like it. And I don’t like not knowing what’s going on.” He frowns, chewing the inside of his cheek as he casts his gaze around the ballroom.
I follow his line of sight and land on Mai Huong, Fairhaven Academy’s chief healer, and a friend of both mine and Hawthorn’s. From her place beside her two alpha mates, she watches us—or, more specifically, Hawthorn—a look approaching wistfulness on her face.
I’m even more surprised when I see that same wistfulness mirrored in Hawthorn’s conflicted expression.
I know they’d been friends, but…
“I don’t know what he’s planning or what he’s involved himself in now,” my brother mutters, returning his attention to me with a deep frown, “but expect something big.”
Like me, Hawthorn hides behind a mask where our father is concerned. He’s been a loyal son, following in our father’s footsteps at Rose Pharmaceuticals, all with the aim of uncovering my father’s wicked deeds. No wonder he looks exhausted.
I duck my chin in a barely perceptible nod and then scan the room once more. “And where is my other brother?”
Hawthorn’s frown deepens. “Claire’s unwell. The flu, Father said. Aspen stayed home to care for her and the triplets.”
Now it’s my turn to frown. “That’s… unlike him.”
“Very,” Hawthorn mutters, and suddenly, the exhaustion around his eyes seems to overtake him, just for a second, before he can recover himself.
“What do you know about him?” I murmur.
He chews the inside of his cheek again, his jaw ticking. “More than I should and less than I’d like. His movements have been strange lately. He’s been flying between Fairhaven and New York, same as Father, but he hasn’t been coming into headquarters at all.”
I’m just about to ask what Aspen would be doing in Fairhaven, or what business he’d have in New York City outside of the Rose Pharmaceuticals headquarters when Hawthorn silences me with a severe look.
“I’ll have your next dance, Miss Rose,” Andrew Radcliffe’s father says, a sneer in his voice.
