1
Kirion
“Today’s the day.” Rohan, my father, stood in the doorway to my dressing room, the edge of his red cloak making waves against the floor around his feet.
I glanced up, forcing myself to appear calm. My servant was putting the finishing touches on my hair.
Rohan raised an eyebrow. “I’m excited for you.”
The man had the nerve to smile. It might have been an arrow through my heart if I hadn’t learned of his true soulless core when, at fifteen, I had failed in my ability to shift and was declared a set omega.
First and foremost, my father was nothing if not a narcissistic traditionalist. Everything he did was for his own gain. Being the alpha leader of the wealthiest wolf pack in the world meant he could do as he pleased, control our city, our people, our money. And me.
He didn’t care about me. All he cared about was that he was going to make a small fortune off me. Money he didn’t even need.
When I had angrily brought up that fact, he coolly replied, “You are pack royalty. That means you won’t be bought by lowlifes who would rape and forcibly breed you. You’re one of the lucky ones.”
“You think having money means someone isn’t a rapist? Or worse?” I shot back.
“I’ve given you everything. A formal education, clothes of the highest fashion, jewelry and money. You are privileged. Lucky. This pack has called you a prince since the day you were born. You should thank me that I am allowing only the highest bred, most powerful and richest of the dragons to apply for you. I personally vetted them all.” A smug dismissal came over his face. “I won’t discuss this with you again.”
He hadn’t given me everything. Not the father he could have been. And never love.
“You look decent enough. The dragons will be here in ten minutes.”
All I could do was glare as he walked away.
As I approachedthe entrance to Rohan’s huge, high-ceilinged receiving room, Quint, my servant for many years, whispered quickly as he walked away. “Good luck, sir.”
At least he acted like he cared. I would miss him more than my father.
As I walked in from the side door, I saw my father in the high velvet chair he called his throne. He was flanked by his two favorite bodyguards. There was a rustling of heavy, richclothing toward the audience area. I could smell them amidst the expensive perfumed air and alpha lust. Dragons. How many had come to bid? I didn’t want to look.
I glanced past my father at the columns that held the carvings of our wolf shifter history. I remembered hiding behind them when I was little and spying on my father at meetings thinking one day that might be me running things. I was too young to understand that wolf omegas didn’t inherit. Or that set omegas had no rights at all.
Those were days of better memories. I had all the toys I asked for, private schooling, and a manny who tucked me in and read to me every night. I made friends with all the servant kids. I never once thought we were different from each other until we all got older. By then I was off to boarding school where the other boys were jealous and competitive, and friendships were fleeting.
But those early years were what shaped me. When I felt free and, above all, safe. I was my father’s son. Nothing could harm me. No dragons waited in the wings to drag me away.
If I could freeze time, step through a portal and go backwards, I would. I was the curious kid who loved life. I wanted him back again.
Instead, a bleak future awaited.
Rohan’s voice broke through my thoughts.
“Kirion. Step forward and face your suiters.”
Suiters? The drama of Rohan prickled. It was all a game to him. I was convinced he didn’t have any real feelings.
I forced myself to take one slow step at a time, still not looking out at the dragons. I heard some intakes of breaths, some sighs. Did they think I was beautiful? Some people had told me I was. I liked hair and makeup, but so what? A lot of omegas did. Fashion had been forced on me as a wealthy prince.I liked it. But these were supposed to be rich bastards bidding for me. They should have been used to all of that glamour and stuff.
“Face your prospects,” Rohan ordered.
I turned, lowering my gaze. I wore a brocade fitted vest over a white shirt. The tightness showed off my lean waist. The sleeves were big and my fingers clutched at the cuffs. Leather trousers met dark calf-length boots. Rings were the only jewelry I liked and I wore a lot of them.
“As you all know,” Rohan began, “Kirion comes from the finest of breeding. As a set-omega, he is obedient, submissive and beautiful. He has education from the topmost private schools.”
My cheeks flamed. Rohan was up to his usual marketing. Obedient? Submissive? I didn’t want any of that. If that was how he saw me, it was because he forced his strictness on me causing me to be self-conscious and never feel good enough to be his son. Bottom line, his decision to get rid of me for money had destroyed every dream I’d ever had for my life.
