The Alpha Prince & His Bullied Omega

Easy, honey

SOMA

Sweat dampens my palms. Through the back door, I slip inside the house as quietly as I can, but the moment it clicks shut, Aunt Helen’s voice booms from the kitchen.

“Somadina.”

I jump, turning to face all three of them. They huddle together like they’ve been waiting for me. Aunt Helen, Sheila, and Maeve stand by the kitchen island, their faces dark with fury.

No slap comes this time. Instead, Aunt Helen holds up her phone, the screen glowing with words that are hard to read from here.

“You stupid, worthless girl,” she hisses. “The palace already called. The Crown Prince himself mentioned your name. How dare you challenge them in front of everyone? Because of you, our family is now on thin ice right before the Selection.”

Maeve’s face drains of color. “If the princes complain to the King, they could rescind our admission to the royal academy.” She glances at her mother, her voice rising in panic. “Mom, we just got accepted this summer. Sheila worked so hard for it. We can’t lose our spots because of her.”

Shadowspire Royal Academy is an institution for all royals and children of important members of the pack. Aunt Helen has been trying to get Sheila into the academy since she turned eighteen last year. But she only succeeded this year.

It’s a boarding academy. Once they leave, I’ll be free from the usual daily torments until they return home during their semester breaks. Aunt Helen has a job that keeps her away most of the time. Maybe she’ll reconsider letting me attend a public college since I have my high school diploma now.

“It wasn’t like that. Mason was only trying to—”

“Quiet.” Aunt Helen slams the phone down. “The High Priestess herself witnessed your little spectacle.”

Sheila steps closer, her eyes gleaming with malice. I lean against the door, not sure if I’d rather take a hit or their verbal attacks.

“Oh, Soma. If Prince Brynne decides to punish us to make an example of you…”

“Leave her,” Maeve says. “Princess Sienna needs help for the ceremony tomorrow. We can send her to pacify them.”

Sheila nods in approval. She walks back to her mom and sister, blowing air over her manicured fingernails.

“If the princes want entertainment at the ceremony, I will personally deliver you to them,” Aunt Helen states calmly. “Stripped and on your knees again if that’s what it takes to save this family. You will smile and obey every command.”

Brynne’s cruel smirk flashes in my mind. We will continue this later. The promise echoes in my head. That memory of me kneeling while the whole yard laughed crashes over me.

Air leaves my lungs, and I clutch my chest.

I can’t breathe.

This house has never been safe, but tomorrow it might become a public stage for the Crown Prince’s cruelty. And my own family will hand me over without hesitation.

“Get started on dinner. Make it perfect,” Aunt Helen adds, every word dipped in venom. “And pray the Moon Goddess grants one of your cousins favor tomorrow, because if she doesn’t…”

The threat lingers in the air as they walk out of the kitchen. I stand there, shaking, my back pressed flat against the door until their footsteps fade. For the first time, Mason’s desperate offer doesn’t sound like madness.

It sounds like survival.

Without thinking, I yank the back door open and bolt. It’s dark outside, but I keep going. The wind lashes at my face as I sprint past the parked cars and my rusty bicycle. My vision blurs with tears, and my muscles scream, but I don’t stop.

One name pounds with every heartbeat. Mason. I need to find him. I run the entire way to Old Man Jimmy’s trailer. My lungs burn, and my legs grow heavy, but I barely feel it.

Adrenaline and fear push me forward until I make the half-hour journey. Mason is usually behind the trailer, messing with Jimmy’s beat-up car to distract himself from life. But tonight, the usual clank of tools is missing. No low music drifts from the radio, and the clearing behind sits too quietly.

The car is gone, and the trailer’s windows are dark. Panic flutters in my chest. I circle to the front and climb the stairs.

“Mason?” I call softly. My knock echoes unanswered.

Has he already left without me? I test the door, and to my surprise, it swings open with a tired creak. They never leave it unlocked. I hesitate on the threshold for a heartbeat and enter. The trailer swallows me in thick darkness.

The hairs on my nape rise as I take another step in and pause. The air smells of stale beer, detergent, old wood, and motor oil. Something seems to breathe in the shadows, or maybe my fear is playing tricks on me. I feel eyes on me, waiting and watching, as if to know who’ll act first.

Floorboards groan under my weight when I finally move, and my pulse thuds in my ears. I keep the lights off, holding my breath as I take a second step toward Mason’s room.

A door creaks somewhere at the back, and I freeze. Someone else is in the trailer with me. Unless they just left. I hurry to the foggy window above the sink and peer out.

Moonlight barely touches the clearing. At the edge of the trees, a tall, hooded figure stands perfectly still, with silver-blond hair peeking from beneath his hood. He doesn’t move or shift, but stares straight at the trailer like he can see me through the glass. My knees buckle, and I drop into a crouch.

What if it’s one of Jimmy’s lenders or enemies? The man talks too much, especially when he’s had a few drinks. When I peek again, the man tilts his head, turns, and slips into the woods.

Something about him feels wrong. Dangerous. I can’t stay here. Better Aunt Helen’s house than Jimmy’s trailer without Mason. I rush back toward the front door, but it opens before I reach it. The speed I’m moving at sends me straight into a solid chest, and I stumble back with a yelp.

“Hey, easy, honey.”

Jimmy’s slurred voice fills the dark. He reeks of piss and cheap beer. Before I can move, his hand catches my wrist in a loose grip, but it’s enough to make my skin crawl.

Pulling free, I whisper, “I’m looking for Mason.”

A single bulb flickers overhead, and I spot Jimmy by the switch. His shirt is stained, and his eyes are glassy.

“We were supposed to meet.”

He snorts. “Always Mason with you.” He sways, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s too drunk to solve. With a shrug, he flips the light back off and shuffles toward his room.

The door slams behind him, and silence rushes back in. I exhale, undecided about returning to Aunt Helen’s house.

What if the hooded man is lurking in the woods?

With Jimmy here, it’s relatively safer. I lock the front door, navigate by memory through the cramped space, and enter Mason’s tiny room.