“I’ll see to it,” I reply, steady as stone.
“Good. That’s all for now. You’re dismissed.”
Helena gets up, eyes blank, and moves to the door. I open it for her, and she slips past me, silent. We walk a few steps before she lets out a heavy sigh.
I glance sideways. “You okay?”
She shrugs, the motion fragile. “He makes it sound like I’m being auctioned off at a livestock fair.”
I want to tell her she’s more than that, but it isn’t my place. Instead, I offer, “You handled it well.”
She makes a noise in her throat, something between a laugh and a sigh. “‘Handled.’ That’s the word, isn’t it? Like Ihandledmanure.”
We move through the hallway with the echo of her father’s words hanging over us. I want to ask her if she ever dreams of slipping out the back gate and never coming back. But I don’t.
I keep pace, always half a step behind, the way I’ve been trained.
Sunlight spills over her as we pass by a window, and she turns her face to it, eyes closing. Her honey scent is suddenly stronger here. In it, I think I can almost smell her emotions: fear, resentment. Even a flash of hope that’s so faint, it might be nothing at all.
That’s the connection an alpha has with their scent-matched omega they’ve been friends with for years—even without a formal bond.
“I hate all of this,” she whispers. “The pageantry. The press. The idea that my entire life comes down to which pack makes the highest bid.”
I let her words hang. Sometimes, silence is safer than any answer. But not always. “That’s not how Omega Selection Day works. The Council decides.”
Helena levels me with a withering look. “And how do you think they decide, Zane? By drawing names from a hat?” She shakes her head. “No. It’s bids and deals like we’re in the Middle Ages still.”
“You went to Omega Finishing School,” I point out. Maybe I shouldn’t because at one point, this was everything Helena wanted. But clearly not anymore.
Helena stops at the corridor’s end and places a hand on the railing that overlooks the garden. “Do you ever wonder if there’s more out there?” Her eyes are fixed on the world beyond the estate walls.
I do, but that’s not my assignment. “All the time.”
She looks at me, blue eyes searching. “If you were me, what would you do?”
The air crackles with the weight of the unsaid. I could tell her the truth—that I’d run, that I’d take the first train out and never look back—but the job is to keep her safe, and sometimes safety means staying exactly where you are.
“I’d play along,” I say. “Until I figured out a way to make it my own.”
She considers this, then nods. “That’s what Emery did. Sort of. And theystilltalk about her in the papers.”
“Emery is tough. So are you.”
She makes a face. “Sure.” Then she pushes off the railing. “Thanks for not letting me fall apart in there.”
“Anytime.”
We head down the stairs, her pace steady. I’m supposed to be the shadow, the bodyguard. But as we step into the light, I can’t help but think I want more than just to protect her. I want to see her win.
“Where to next?” I ask, like it were an ordinary day.
She glances over her shoulder, a real smile flickering across her face. “Anywhere but here.”
I nod. “Lead the way.”
CHAPTER 3
Helena
