A tentative knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I slide the dagger back into its hidden sheath and let my mask fall into place. "Enter."
The door opens to reveal my father and brother. Cassian looks terrible—his Light Court robes are rumpled, his golden eyes bloodshot, his usually immaculate hair disheveled. His Alpha scent is sour with guilt and distress, none of the confident authority a young Alpha should carry. My father appears more composed, but I can see the strain in the tight set of his shoulders and the lines around his mouth. His own Alpha presence is carefully controlled, revealing nothing.
"Seraphina," Cassian says, rushing forward. "I'm so sorry—this is all my fault. If I hadn't?—"
I hold up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "It's done, Cassian. No use dwelling on it now."
"But how can you be so calm?" he asks, searching my face. His Alpha instincts must be screaming to protect me, to challenge Malakai for forcing this. "He's a monster. Everyone knows what he's capable of. And you—" He stops abruptly, glancing at our father. "You're?—"
"Omega," I finish quietly, letting the word hang between us. There's no point in hiding it now, not when Malakai has already scented the truth beneath my suppressants. "Yes, Cassian. I'm an Omega. Have been since I presented at fifteen."
Cassian's face goes pale. "But that's impossible. I would have known. Father would have—" He turns to our father accusingly. "You knew? All this time?"
"Of course I knew," Father says with the cold pragmatism that's served him well in Light Court politics. "Why do you think Seraphina has been on suppressants since she presented? An Omega daughter of a military general, trained as a tactful attaché?" He shakes his head. "The Light Court would have married her off to some Alpha councilor before she turned sixteen, breeding stock for powerful bloodlines. This way, she's been useful."
The word useful lands like a blow. Is that all I've ever been to him?
In Light Court, Omegas are treasures. Protected. Sequestered. Bred to powerful Alphas to strengthen bloodlines and create magically gifted children. The moment I presented as Omega at fifteen, I would have been assessed, tested, and matched to some councilor's son within the year. My life was planned out: bonding ceremony at sixteen, first child by seventeen, spending my days in some Alpha's home, my only purpose to bear strong heirs and look beautiful at court functions.
In Shadow Court, from what I've heard, Omegas have slightly more freedom—they can hold positions, can choose whether to bond. But they're still seen as property once claimed. The claiming bite isn't just biological. It's magical ownership, permanent and absolute. An Alpha's mate becomes an extension of the Alpha, their identity subsumed into their mate's power.
Either way, being Omega meant being owned. So I hid. The Order gave me purpose beyond breeding. Nine years of suppressants, of building a life where my designation didn't define me, where I was valued for skills rather than biology.
And now Malakai is going to strip it all away.
The claiming will mark me as his Omega for everyone to see. The scent change alone will announce it to both courts—my natural vanilla and light magic scent will be permanently mingled with his dark cedar and winter smoke. No more hiding. No more pretending I'm anything other than what my biology says I am.
Every Omega in both courts will know I'm claimed. Every Alpha will know I'm his. And the political ramifications—a Light Court Omega bound to the Shadow Lord—will reshape the power dynamics of both courts.
I'll become a symbol. A prize. A breeding vessel for the prophesied heir.
Everything I've fought against for nine years, made inevitable by a single night.
"Would you prefer I collapse into hysterics?" I ask Cassian coolly, deflecting from the hurt my father's words cause. "Would that solve anything?"
In my head, I recite the opening verses of "The Light Bearer's Lament," an ancient poem my mother taught me. When darkness threatens to consume, remember that shadow cannot exist without light...
The familiar words help me maintain my composure when I want to scream.
"Seraphina," my father says, stepping forward. "We need to talk. Privately."
I arch an eyebrow. "I believe we're already private, unless Shadow Court spies lurk in the walls."
"They might," my father says grimly. He makes a subtle gesture with his hand—a small flare of light magic that briefly illuminates the room before settling into a faint shimmer around us—a privacy ward, simple but effective against eavesdropping.
"Now we can speak freely," he says.
I cross my arms. "What is there to say? You didn’t exactly put up a fight."
Cassian winces. My father's expression remains impassive, his Alpha scent revealing nothing.
"Is that what you think?" he asks. "That I've sacrificed you?"
"What would you call it?" I snap, my calm facade cracking. "I'm to marry a man who calls himself the monster of the Shadow Court, who threatened to execute my brother in front of me, who looked at me like—" I cut myself off, unwilling to voice how Malakai had looked at me, like a predator sizing up prey. Like an Alpha who'd just scented his mate. "Tell me, Father, what would you call it if not a sacrifice?"
"I would call it an opportunity," he says quietly.
I freeze. "What?"
