I resumed scrubbing, but my attention had shifted. The mechanical motions of cleaning faded into the background as calculations began to take shape in my mind. Three princes seeking omegas. A household desperate for elevation. And me, the defective omega kept hidden, used only for profit through heat contracts.
"You're getting ash on your skirt again, Cinders. It's so disgusting."
Vella's voice dripped with the particular disdain she reserved for me, a toxic blend of superiority and barely concealed fear. I didn't look up as my stepsister entered the room, her expensive perfume unable to fully mask the sweet omega scent that grew stronger as she approached her cycle. Unlike me, her biology functioned exactly as it should, a perfect, desirable omega, bred and trained for advantageous matching.
"Apologies," I murmured, shifting my position to minimize contact between my ash-stained apron and the threadbare grayfabric of my dress beneath. "I'll change before assisting with your preparations."
Vella moved into my field of vision, forcing me to acknowledge her presence. Her honey-blonde hair was already partially styled, her fair skin enhanced with expensive cosmetics imported from the Eastern Territories. She looked exactly as an omega should, delicate, appealing, ornamental. Everything I was not.
"Mother says you'll be helping me prepare for the Convergence," she said, voice lilting with poorly concealed excitement. "Though I can't imagine what help you could possibly offer. You wouldn't know court fashion if it slapped you across your sooty face."
I kept my expression neutral, my eyes appropriately lowered. "I'll follow your instructions carefully."
Coris appeared in the doorway behind Vella, her slight frame nearly hidden in the shadow of the hall. My other stepsister watched our interaction with wary eyes, her fingers nervously twisting the small charm bracelet at her wrist. She never participated in Vella's taunts, but neither did she intervene. In the Morvane household, survival meant choosing your battles carefully, a lesson Coris had learned perhaps too well.
"It doesn't matter anyway," Vella continued, pacing the room now, her nervous energy betraying her affected confidence. "Even the most desperate Alpha wouldn't look twice at you. You're too broken to ever be chosen." A cruel smile curved her lips as she paused, glancing back at me. "Though Mother says the court has grown desperate enough to take anything these days. Perhaps they'd find use for you in the kitchens."
The words should have hollowed me out further, should have reinforced the cage I had lived in for so long. Instead, something shifted beneath my ribs, a sensation so unfamiliar I nearly gasped aloud. Sharp and restless, it moved through myblood like a counterpoint to the suppressants’ chill. Nothing like weakness. Nothing like submission.
I kept my head bowed, but my awareness expanded, suddenly hyperconscious of every detail in the room. Vella’s hands trembled slightly despite her bravado. Coris kept a careful, calculated distance from both of us. On Lady Morvane’s desk, the contract ledger lay open to a page marked with my name at the top.
"Come upstairs when you've finished," Vella ordered, already turning away. "And wash your hands properly this time. I still have marks from where you touched my blue silk last week."
She swept from the room, Coris trailing in her wake like a nervous shadow. I remained kneeling before the hearth, the brush suspended above the stones, listening to their footsteps fade down the corridor. Only when I was certain I was alone did I allow myself to move differently, not just to obey, but to observe.
I rose slowly, my knees protesting after hours on the hard floor. The room was empty now, but evidence of its occupants lingered, Lady Morvane’s ledger, a discarded suppressant vial on her desk, and Vella’s scent marker deliberately left on the chair I would need to clean later. Power in this household was communicated through a thousand tiny cruelties.
My feet made no sound as I crossed to Lady Morvane's desk, eyes scanning the open ledger. My name and the current year, followed by columns of dates, amounts, names. Each entry represented a heat, a contract, a period where my body belonged even less to me than it usually did. My finger traced the most recent entry: LORD HARWICK-ALPHA-TERTIARY. PAYMENT: 300 GOLD SOVEREIGNS. SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: FULL SEDATION.
The familiar numbness tried to claim me, the protective distance I had cultivated over years of survival. But that newsensation, that sharp, restless thing inside me, pushed back against it and demanded presence rather than escape.
My gaze shifted to the small crystal vial discarded on the corner of the desk. Lady Morvane was typically meticulous about returning unused suppressants to the locked cabinet in her private chambers, but preparations for the Royal Convergence had disrupted household routines. The clear liquid caught the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains, innocuous yet powerful enough to control my entire existence.
I should have returned it to its proper place. Should have completed my cleaning, changed my clothes, and gone upstairs to assist Vella as ordered. Instead, my fingers closed around the vial, the glass cool against my skin. With a motion so practiced it was nearly unconscious, I slipped it into the hidden pocket sewn into the seam of my dress. Not to use, not yet, but to possess. To have something meant to control me under my own control instead.
The door to the study opened, and I immediately resumed cleaning the nearby table, my movements fluid and unremarkable. The visiting Alpha who entered, one of Lady Morvane’s business associates, barely glanced in my direction before striding toward the desk. I kept my head lowered, my scent suppressed to near nonexistence, rendering me practically invisible.
Yet something made him pause. His nostrils flared slightly, his expression tightening as if something about the room, about me, didn't sit quite right with his Alpha senses. For a heartbeat, our eyes met, and I saw confusion flash across his features before dismissal replaced it. Just another servant. Just another omega. Nothing worth noting.
He moved on, but I remained frozen, that strange new sensation spreading through my chest, my arms, my fingertips. The vial pressed against my thigh through the fabric of my dress,a small weight that somehow felt monumental. Something inside me was changing, awakening from a dormancy so prolonged I'd forgotten it existed at all.
I returned to my scrubbing, my movements identical to those I'd performed thousands of times before. But beneath the familiar rhythm of brush against stone, beneath the crawling chill of suppressants in my blood, beneath the weight of a life spent in shadows and ash—something was beginning to burn.
CHAPTER 2
The outside air hit my lungs like a shock of cold water after years of breathing nothing but dust and stone. Five steps beyond the manor's service entrance, and already my skin prickled with wrongness, with exposure. Lady Morvane's grip on my arm wasn't necessary; where would I run? The suppressants made my blood sluggish, my thoughts thick, but even through that chemical fog, I felt the night pressing against me, watching. I kept my eyes down, counting cobblestones, focusing on the rhythm of my heartbeat instead of the terrifying openness of the sky above.
"Remember your instructions," Lady Morvane hissed, her breath sour with anxiety against my ear. "Eyes down. Speak to no one. If anyone addresses you directly, you defer to me."
I nodded once, the gesture small enough to avoid disturbing the careful arrangement of my hair. Other servants spent hours on me, scrubbing the ash from my skin until it glowed pink and raw, drowning me in scent-neutralizing oils, pinning my wild hair into severe submission. The dress they'd forced me into was plain but clean, designed to render me invisible while still marking me as servant rather than guest.
"And for gods' sake, keep your breathing controlled," Lady Morvane added, fingers digging deeper, finding the tender flesh beneath my sleeve. "One slip, one hint of what you are, and you'll wish I'd left you to rot in that cellar."
I didn't need the reminder. I'd witnessed what happened to exposed omegas… especially defective ones like me, with unpredictable cycles and unreliable heat responses. We disappeared, traded into contracts and our bodies used to ease Alpha ruts without the messy complication of mating bonds. The lucky ones became breeding surrogates for wealthy families with infertile mates. The unlucky ones... I pushed the thought away.
The venue loomed before us, a merchant lord's home transformed for the evening into a marketplace of flesh. Lights spilled from tall windows, and the low rumble of conversation carried on the night air. My stomach twisted as Lady Morvane guided me toward the servants' entrance at the rear.
"You will serve and observe. Nothing more," she said, smoothing her immaculate gown with her free hand. "This is an education for you, Nyx. Watch carefully what happens to omegas who fail to maintain proper control."
