"No, Your Highness. Prince Logan is with His Majesty. I can fetch him if you'd like."
I move toward the door, but Ander shifts, blocking my path. Something in his posture changes, becoming predatory. I've always found him unsettling, but today there's something particularly dangerous in his eyes.
"That won't be necessary." Ander tilts his head, inhaling deeply. "Strange. I could swear I smell something... unusual in here."
My pulse quickens. I took my suppressants this morning. I always do. But the latest batch from Bastin hasn't been as effective, requiring more frequent doses.
"Perhaps the cleaning staff used new products," I suggest, keeping my voice level.
"No. That's not it." Ander steps closer, too close. Another deep inhale. “I’ve been chasing this scent for days. It smells like Omega."
I force my expression to remain neutral, but something must give me away — a microexpression, a flicker in my eyes, the slightest change in my scent — because Ander's face transforms with realization.
"Well, well," he purrs. "Isn't this interesting?"
"I don't know what you mean, Prince Ander.” My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears.
"Don't insult my intelligence, Cillian.” He circles me slowly. "You've hidden it well. Very well. I wonder if my brother knows what his loyal guard really is."
I remain silent, calculating my options. Ander makes frequent appearances in the training yard. I could possibly escape him if I throw my all into the attempt. But attacking a crown prince, even in self-defense, would mean execution. My reasons won’t matter.
"I've always been curious," Ander continues, his voice dropping lower. "They say male Omegas are the ultimate perversion. Removed for the good of society.” He stops directly in front of me. "I've always wanted to know if male Omegas slick up like females do."
My shocked expression betrays me completely this time. The suppressants mask my scent, but they can't hide my reactions.
"I see I've hit a nerve." Ander smiles, revealing teeth that seem too sharp. "Let's find out, shall we?"
I back away, but he follows, step for step. "Your Highness, this is inappropriate. Prince Logan will return shortly."
"My brother is occupied for at least another few hours. I made sure of that.”
The realization that this visit was planned sends ice through my veins. I continue backing up until I hit Logan's desk.
Ander reaches out, grabbing my arm with bruising force. "If you make it good enough for me, I might even give you a head start before reporting you to the Guardians for designation fraud."
I try to twist away, but his grip tightens.
"That's a capital offense," I say, struggling to keep my voice steady.
"Indeed it is. You’ll be put to death or spend what little life you have left in the work camps.” His free hand reaches for my face. "Your fate rests entirely on how well you please me. Maybe I’ll keep you for myself. Hide you away from this cruel, cruel world.”
My training kicks in — assess, plan, execute — but every option ends badly. If I fight him, I'm executed for attacking royalty. If I submit, I lose everything I've worked for, everything I am.
"Prince Ander, I must insist?—"
"You're not in a position to insist on anything," he snarls, pushing me back against the desk. Papers scatter to the floor. "You're an Omega playing at being a beta. A fraud. A liar." His hand slides down to my throat. "But I can be merciful if you're good."
The door to the apartment remains closed. No rescue coming. No witnesses. Just me and a predator who's cornered his prey.
CHAPTER 3
Logan
EIGHTEEN MONTHS AGO
I only return to the apartment between meetings because I'm missing the file I need with tariff percentages for the trade minister. My very displeased father is keeping the minister on ice while I fetch my forgotten tablet, so my mood is already about as bad as it gets.
Then I open the door of my apartment and confront a scene my conscious mind struggles to comprehend.
