That just intrigues me more.
Her eyes meet mine directly now, a breach of Omega etiquette that sends a small thrill through me. “I believe understanding how peace was achieved in the past might help preserve it in the future, Your Highness.”
A diplomat’s answer—thoughtful, measured, and revealing a mind that thinks beyond her own immediate concerns to the welfare of the kingdom itself. The matron’s face has gone pale with horror at Maya’s forthright response, but I find myself leaning forward, drawn in by her unexpected candor.
Through the pack bond, I feel Cillian’s sudden alertness, like the snap of a taut wire. He’s recognized what I have. This is no ordinary Omega trained to be a decorative, fertile appendage to an Alpha. This is someone with vision, intelligence, and the quiet strength needed to stand beside power without being consumed by it.
The kind of mate that I’ve always hoped to find.
One who could stand beside me at court without cowering away from the darkness.
Someone who can survive.
I catch Cillian’s gaze briefly. His face remains impassive, the perfect guard, but through our connection, I sense his growing unease.
I keep my tone conversational while holding her gaze. “And what is it you want, Maya? More than anything else?”
She blinks once. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Do you want riches, or fame,” I prompt. “Or the ability to have a palace full of servants at your beck and call?”
She licks her lips in a nervous gesture, but holds my gaze. “Those things are nice, I suppose.”
“But they’re not what you really want,” I finish with the distant realization that I’m testing her. I lean forward, taking a deep inhale of that delicious scent. “Tell me what it is you really want.”
“I want…” She hesitates before trailing off.
“Tell me.”
“Freedom!” Maya blurts out. “I want freedom.”
The matron looks ready to faint. Eldritch intercedes, hustling away a red-faced Maya as she makes apologies to me for the outburst.
I let the matron’s assurances that there are more Omegas to choose from flow over me as we’re escorted out, too lost in thought to bother with a reply. Eldritch will figure out my intentions when she receives my request for another interview with Maya.
I’ve found her. A kindred spirit.
And more importantly, the Omega who can win me my throne.
Cillian is silent as we drive back to the palace, his ice-chip eyes fixed on the road ahead. The tension between us fills the car like smoke, making it hard to breathe. I watch the city blur past the window, trying to sort through my tangled thoughts.
It's his silence that finally breaks me.
"Are you going to say anything?" I ask.
He glances at me, his pale hair falling across his forehead. "What would you like me to say, Logan?"
"I don't know. Something. Anything." I drum my fingers against my thigh. "You haven't said a word since we left the Enclave."
Cillian's hands tighten on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "Are you planning to tell her?" he asks abruptly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "About our bond?"
The question catches me off-guard, though it shouldn't. Of course that's what's bothering him.
"Of course not," I reply.
He scoffs, a harsh sound in the confined space. "Of course not," he repeats, mockery edging his tone. "And you think she won't figure it out? That Omega is too smart for her own good, Logan. She'll see right through us."
"You're not giving her enough credit," I counter. "She's stronger than you think."
