"She is perfect for the palace," I acknowledge with a sigh. "Exactly who my father expects to see at my side. One of the only simpering misses at the damn Enclave I could actually see in a crown."
And I want her more than I've ever wanted any woman before, but I don't say that either.
"Logan."
He says my name in a way that forces me to turn around and face him.
"Cillian," I respond evenly.
His gaze is unblinking. "Do you love me?"
The question stops me short. Cillian is my best friend. My closest confidant. I want him to be protected as much as I don't want to see him hurt. The emotional distance between us has been something like torture.
What do you call all that?
"There are more important things than love," I say, finally.
Cillian tilts his head back and glares at the ceiling. "If you're forcing me to hate a girl I've never even met, at least I know you'll torture her in more ways than I could ever even dream up."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
He waves that away with a sigh before returning his gaze to mine. I can feel his disdain through our link because it tastes like metal at the back of my tongue.
"What exactly is your plan here?" he demands.
There hasn't been a plan. My father can't be gainsaid, not without good reason. So I had dutifully attended these monitored and practically scripted interviews at the Enclave, waiting for a good excuse to reject even their most attractive Omegas. But Maya has never given me one.
If anything, I like her more every time she opens her mouth.
I glare at my own reflection, annoyed that my tie is somehow still crooked as I undo it for the fifth time. "I'm working on that."
Cillian stomps over and rips the tie out of my hands before wrapping it around my neck. "If this perfect little Enclave Omega hasn't given you a reason to refuse her, then you need to figure out how to get her to reject you. Buy yourself some time to figure out a way to secure the throne without an heir."
"And how do you recommend I do that?"
"Just make sure she figures out quick that you consider Omegas to be entirely disposal. Shouldn't be hard for you."
He yanks the tie with choking force, dancing away before I can grab for him.
"You think I consider Omegas disposable? After everything I've done to protect you? Every day you draw breath in the palace, I risk my legacy and both of our fucking lives. You're not disposable."
"And what is she?" Cillian challenges. "This purple-haired girl who's got you so twisted up?"
The question hangs between us. What is Maya to me? A political necessity? A biological match? Something more dangerous?
"She's...interesting," I admit finally. "Smart. Doesn't simper or pretend. She looks me in the eye when most Omegas at the Enclave can barely manage to look at my shoes."
Cillian's scent shifts, the jealousy sharpening. "Sounds like you've already made a decision."
There is no decision. No Alpha can bond two Omegas. An unbonded Omega can't produce an heir.
"I haven't decided anything." I check my watch. "And now I'm going to be late."
"Would that be such a tragedy?" Cillian mutters.
I straighten my jacket one final time. "My father has made it clear what's expected. His obsession with legacy has never been greater. He has made no secret that he expects his sons to produce heirs."
The words land like a physical blow. Cillian flinches, and through our bond, I feel the flash of hurt before he locks it away.
