CHAPTER 1
Fire. This place needed to burn down to the ashes I constantly cleaned.
They say omegas are born to serve, but I was born to disappear. I've become so good at it that sometimes I wonder if the ash beneath my nails has replaced my blood, turning me into a ghost made of soot and silence. My brush scrapes against Lady Morvane's hearth, the third one I've cleaned today, while the weight of her gaze presses between my shoulder blades. She's watching, always watching, but she doesn't see me. Not the real me. No one does. And that's exactly why, when the Royal Convergence begins tomorrow, I'm going to burn everything down.
I scraped harder at the blackened stones of the hearth, the rough bristles of the brush biting into my palms with each motion. The manor stretched around me, cavernous and cold despite the dying embers that had warmed Lady Morvane's quarters through the night. My shoulders ached with the familiar tension of being watched, evaluated, measured against some standard I would never quite meet.
Beneath my skin, the scent suppressants crawled like ice in my veins, a chemical leash that made obedience not a choicebut a physical necessity. The liquid coated my tongue each morning tasted of metal and submission, turning my omega scent to nothing. I'd learned years ago that fighting them only made the side effects worse… the headaches that split my skull, the tremors that made even simple tasks like this one nearly impossible.
Not to mention Lady Morvane would order others to hold me down while she forced the potions and water down my throat until I couldn't help but choke on them as they went down against my will.
A drop of sweat slid down my spine despite the chill, my body fighting itself as I worked. The sound of the brush against stone echoed in the otherwise silent room, a scraping rhythm that marked time in a life where days blurred together. Grit and soot turned the water in my bucket black. I would need to change it soon, fetch more from the well in the yard, return to my knees, and continue the endless process of cleaning what would only be dirtied again.
"You missed a corner."
Lady Morvane's voice cut through the silence without warning, though I hadn't heard her approach. She was always watching. Somehow.
I stiffened but didn't turn, didn't rise, didn't speak. My fingers clenched around the brush until my knuckles whitened.
"Did you hear me, girl?" Closer now, the subtle scent of her expensive perfume attempting to mask her Beta nature. She believed the artificial fragrance gave her authority. Perhaps it did, with some.
"Yes, Lady Morvane." My voice emerged exactly as I'd trained it to—flat, emotionless, a servant's proper response. The response she'd ordered other servants beat into me at an early age. I shifted, attacking the corner she'd indicated with methodical precision. "I'll address it immediately."
Her footsteps circled behind me, deliberate and measured. The hem of her dove-gray dress swept into my peripheral vision, immaculate and tailored to emphasize her position. Everything about Lady Morvane was calculated, from her appearance to her words to her cruelty.
"Your heat is approaching." Not a question but a clinical observation. "I can see it in your complexion, despite those suppressants. You always get that... sheen."
My brush faltered for just a fraction of a second before I forced my hand to continue its motion.
"You're repulsive. That stench that just won't go away no matter how much I try to fix you."
The suppressants were supposed to eliminate all signs of my cycle. If she could detect it anyway, the dosage might be weakening. The thought sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the manor's perpetual cold.
"The contract is finalized," she continued, circling me like a buyer inspecting damaged goods. "Lord Harwick's youngest son. The one with the unfortunate temperament. His father believes your... condition... might actually be beneficial. Less chance of an unwanted attachment forming when your scent is so... muted."
I kept my eyes fixed on the hearth, on the stubborn black stain I was trying to scrub away. My "condition," the defect that made me less valuable than a normal omega. The irony that it had somehow increased my worth to certain buyers was not lost on me. Damaged goods for damaged Alphas, a perfect match in Lady Morvane’s ledger books.
"You'll be prepared properly this time," she added, her voice cooling further. "The last client complained that you were too... present. The medication should help with that."
Present. As if consciousness itself was an inconvenience during the service I provided. My teeth clenched behind closedlips, but I kept scrubbing, kept breathing in the measured pattern that helped maintain my facade of compliance. The suppressants made me foggy enough already; whatever additional "medication" she planned would likely render me barely conscious during the heat itself.
I should have felt horror. Instead, I felt a strange detachment, as if I were watching someone else's life unfolding, someone else's body being bartered and sold. Years of this had hollowed me out, scooped away pieces of myself until what remained was hardly a person at all.
Lady Morvane's fingers suddenly gripped my chin, forcing my face up to meet her gaze. Her touch was cool, clinical, her gray eyes assessing me with the dispassion of someone evaluating livestock.
"Your sister will need your assistance with preparations for the Royal Convergence," she said, studying my features for any reaction. "The palace announced this morning that all eligible omegas are to be presented. This could be Vella's opportunity to secure her future... and by extension, this household's."
Something flickered in my chest, not quite hope, nothing so innocent, but awareness. Information I had not been meant to have. The Royal Convergence, where the three princes would select their consorts. Among other important and powerful Alphas. I had heard whispers among the servants, but nothing concrete until now.
"Of course," I murmured, lowering my eyes appropriately. "I'll do whatever is needed."
She released my chin with a slight push, as if even touching me had soiled her fingers. "See that you do. And make yourself presentable before you attend her. I won't have you tracking ash through the house again."
Pain exploded across my face, the sharp sting fading quickly from years of abuse. I had braced enough that I did not stumble,which made her face twist into a snarl. She hated that I was no longer as affected when she inflicted pain on me as I had been when I was younger. I was torn between giving up completely or killing her as she slept and dealing with the consequences. They would not last long. The punishment for murder was murder.
Her footsteps retreated across the polished floor, but she paused at the doorway. "Oh, and Nyx? Remember that your monthly inspection with Dr. Mercer is tomorrow. We need to ensure your suppressant levels are... adequate."
The door closed behind her with a soft click that somehow felt more final than a slam. I remained kneeling for several long moments, the brush motionless in my hand, my mind cataloging every word, every implication. The Royal Convergence. Dr. Mercer. The contract already finalized for my next heat. Pieces of a puzzle I'd been assembling for years.
