“So I am to be used as a symbol, then.” Ian’s hands shook.
Sigric pushed away from the desk and returned to his chair, sitting slowly. “Of sorts.”
“And if I fail to produce a clutch?”
“You will not fail.” Sigric closed his laptop. He looked up at Ian, expression plain. “If you do not succeed in producing a clutch after spending two heats with your omega, he will be taken away, and another will be provided to you. You will breed until your omega lays. It is as simple as that.”
No.
Ian’s desperation grew. For the last year, he had been working in tandem with Geoffrey in a bid to legally overthrow the council’s ruling, but none of their attempts had been successful. Today, mere hours before his omega was scheduled to arrive, had been his last chance to convince his father that he was the wrong choice, but it looked like there would be no changing his mind. When his father got like this, no argument, regardless of merit, would sway him.
You can run away,a small voice whispered in his mind, and for a moment, Ian entertained the notion, until he realized it would mean leaving Geoffrey behind.
Perhaps, if he called Geoffrey later, they could both run. It would mean abandoning their duties, families, and hoards, yes, but Ian saw no other solution. A life spent in poverty would be preferable to one spent shackled to an omega he didn’t want while the man he had done the impossible with suffered from his inaction. If it came down to it, Ian would spend every last ounce of gold in his hoard to be with the one he loved—with Geoffrey. His mate.
“I do not condone this experiment, Father,” Ian said in a low voice. At this point, he knew what he thought didn’t matter, and never would, but if he didn’t say it, he felt like he might go insane. “I understand that I am the only one granted permission to reside within Amethyst territory, but—”
The phone situated on Sigric’s desk rang twice. Sigric picked it up and held it to his ear. “Yes?”
Silence. Ian watched, certain that whatever news the phone call was relaying would not be in his best interest.
“Very good. Thank you, Bishop.” Sigric ended the call and turned his attention to Ian. “The omega has arrived and will be presented to the guest house in the next half hour. You will be there to welcome him.”
Blood rushed to Ian’s head, each new beat of his heart causing pulsing, chaotic sound to rush his eardrums. He would not be allowed to dispute his father’s decision any more than he would be able to change his father’s mind about the Amethyst clan. There was no point in finishing his sentence or sharing how he felt—his father would never see him as anything more than a whelp no matter what accomplishments and accreditations Ian earned in his life. It was pointless to argue.
“Well?” Sigric demanded. “Don’t stand there looking daft—go.”
The fight had been lost. Ian’s hands were tied.
Tonight, after calling Geoffrey, he would run.
3
Geoffrey
“Pourquoi me détestes-tu, monsieur dragon?”
Geoffrey sniffed and answered in English, “I don’t hate you, omega.”
“I do not think I believe you, but then, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Soon you will deposit me like a stray cat in my new home and never see me again.Problème résolu.”
If only Geoffrey’s problems were so easily solved. Acid churned in his stomach, not helped by the twisting and turning roads following the steep cliff coastline of Northern California. He’d been charged with escorting Matthieu into Topaz territory and verifying that the coital contract had been enacted while Everard and Harrison traveled to another Ruby cloister, and not for the first time that trip, he wished that Matthieu would simply disappear. For a time the omega had looked out the window of the limousine avidly, but after a while he’d given up, apparently bored by endless stretches of “océan et vaches,” as he’d complained. Instead, the omega had taken to staring at Geoffrey, and Geoffrey, in turn, stared at the ocean and the cows, since the omega was correct that was all there was to see.
He didn’t look at the omega, with his tousled auburn hair that fell into large, messy curls around his face, and his large, brandy-colored eyes. To Geoffrey, he looked very French, and while that shouldn’t have rankled, it did. There was something about his insouciant ennui that grated on Geoffrey’s nerves, and he was sure the attitude was thoroughly calculated. Either that, or the omega was a complete caricature. He might as well be wearing a striped shirt and beret while chain smoking and carrying a baguette.
“I’d think you’d be pleased the journey is nearly over,” Geoffrey said stiffly. “You’ll have something to look at besides the ocean and cows.”
The omega snorted. “Ah oui. Le plafond d’un dragon.”
A dragon’s ceiling. Geoffrey might have been sympathetic, except that ceiling belonged to Ian. It was all Geoffrey could do to not scratch the lovely, yet surly, omega’s eyes out with his talons. Then the ungrateful whelp wouldn’t have to see anything at all.
“Yes,” Geoffrey replied, his dry tone masking his utter rage. “A dreadful fate, to be sure. How hard your life is, to be selected to share the bed of a dragon and be adorned by items from his hoard.”
The omega snorted. “You do it, then. Take my place. Be the sacrificial omega and spread your legs for a strange man you don’t know, let alone like, just so he can possibly impregnate you with his seed. Then you can bear his eggs, knowing they will be taken from you. It soundscharmant, does it not? Surely worth a few golden baubles.”
The words felt like arrows shot into Geoffrey’s chest. It was infuriating to hear what he wanted more than anything thrown into his face with mockery. “There is a very good chance you will bond with your dragon. The odds are quite high, according to my brother’s mate. If that should happen, you will have your children and your dragon for eternity.” Saying those words was like rubbing salt in his own wounds. Geoffrey had thought, once, that perhaps he and Ian shared a bond. It certainly felt like their souls were entwined. But he knew, deep down, that it wasn’t possible. Only alphas and omegas could bond. He and Ian had been fooling themselves.
“Je veux ma liberté.” The omega curled his lip in disgust and it did nothing to mar his beauty. Ian would no doubt come to love him, and he’d be sure to forget about Geoffrey, who was too tall, too thin, too plain, and too alpha. “But instead of freedom, if I’m ‘lucky’ I’ll have compelled devotion to a stranger. Artificial love. A biological prison sentence. Yes, it’s what every omega dreams of, I’m sure.”
