The Omega the Alpha Couldn't Kill

Silver burned. It didn't kill fast and that was the point. Once the pain hollowed you out, it offered the deal: stop caring, stop hurting. Most people took it. Nova wasn't there yet, but she was damn close. It'd been three days. Three days of hanging by her wrists, dead weight on silver, like a piece of meat on a hook. If she let herself sag, the silver seared deeper into her flesh. There was a precise balance that kept her alive, alternating between her boot tips on stone and gravity. A sweet spot somewhere between agony and slightly worse agony. A noise escaped her throat as she adjusted herself. She bit down on it before it turned into a scream. Drawing attention to herself would only cost her in the long term. Invisible, she reminded herself. Be invisible. Hard to do when you're dangling from a ceiling like a chandelier nobody asked for. Below the tower, steel rang against steel. Training drills. Morning rotation with the young ones. She heard a barked command, a laugh, and boots scuffing gravel. She mapped it all in her head, the way she always did. Distance. Sound. Time. At this point, she could've drawn the training grounds from memory without ever stepping foot in them. The next time she opened her eyes, moonlight spilled through the narrow window slit. The sound of boots on stone was what jarred her awake. Someone was in the tower and moving with purpose. Alarm bells rang in her mind. If someone was here, that meant Riven was about to cause her more pain. Then she caught a scent she didn't recognize. It was warm, like the forest after rain. And a hint of eucalyptus threaded underneath. The footsteps grew closer, moving up the stairs. Her lungs stopped working, refusing to expand, as though her body had decided suffocation was preferable to discovery. She hung there, still as death, and waited. The footsteps stopped outside the door. The lock groaned. Then everything went black. ✦✦✦ The worst part wasn't the alliance. It wasn't the fact he'd agreed to take the Ashbane princess as his chosen mate. It was the soup. His Gamma stared down at it. Jax: Is this a test? Are we being hazed? Fin: Smile and eat the water. "I asked the cooks to prepare something simple," Princess Meredith announced proudly. "I was told Shadowclaw men prefer uncomplicated meals." Fin stared down at the bowl of hot water called soup. Jax stared at Meredith. Velora swooped in. "What my daughter means is that hearty, straightforward dishes suit warriors. She wished to honor your tastes." "Yes. Exactly what I meant." She had meant none of that. That's when Fin caught it. A scent that made his wolf stir. He stiffened in his chair. Vanilla and something else. He inhaled again sharply. It vanished before he could place it. He turned, scanning the room. Nobles in gold-threaded robes. Meredith Ashbane staring at him and not blinking. A servant approached from behind to refill his goblet. "Do not hover near the Alpha," Meredith clipped. The servant froze mid-step. Actually, the man's soul left his body. Alpha Riven Ashbane released a slow exhale, clearly mindlinking her. She shrugged. "What? Presentation matters, brother." Velora tried again, voice tight. "She only wishes to make a good impression." "Yes," Meredith agreed brightly. "A queen must be prepared and informed. Unlike slaves and omegas, who can't manage the most basic tasks." The silence that followed was the specific kind that occurs when everyone at the table collectively decides to ignore what was just said. Fin: There it is. Jax: What? You don't enjoy being insulted by someone who thinks she's being helpful? Meredith broke the silence. Because of course she did. "I had scouts reporting every hour once you entered our territory." Jax kept his expression neutral, but Fin could feel the smart-ass energy radiating off of him from across the table. Fin: Don't. Jax: She's bragging about stalking you. At dinner. To your face. Fin: I heard her, Jax. Jax: Just making sure, because my brain tried to reject it. Riven clapped his hands together. "Dessert!" There was no dessert. A servant sprinted towards the kitchens. Velora raised her goblet. "To new alliances." Jax lifted his cup with a grin that had no business being there. "To surviving dinner." Fin jolted for the second time. There it was again. That scent he thought he'd imagined. Vanilla and moonlight. He inhaled once. Twice. Gods, he needed more. His wolf snarled inside his mind. Xeon: Find it. Fin drew in another breath, but it was gone. ✦✦✦ That night, he dreamed of a goddess standing in a silent field. Her hair was the color of moonlight, almost white and glowing. Her green eyes lifted to his. A single tear slid down her cheek. She looked at him with confusion, with fear, with a kind of wounded innocence that punched straight through his ribs. His paws moved forward, desperate to reach her before anything else could. "Who are you?" she whispered, voice trembling. His heart lurched and he tried to shift to human form. Commanded his body to move, to rise, to change. Nothing happened. Inconvenient did not begin to cover it. His paws dug into the cold ground, scraping forward in desperation. And then he saw them. Tendrils of shadow creeping across the field. It swelled like black smoke around her. She let out a high-pitched scream of agony. He lunged. A wall of darkness surged up between them, slamming against him like a storm. His claws gouged the earth but the shadow would not break. Her scream cut off. ✦✦✦ Fin jolted awake, sitting up in the bed. Sweat soaked his bare chest. His pulse hammered against his throat. "Just a dream." He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. But it wasn't. He knew it in the same place he knew how to breathe. Xeon: Find her. He tossed and turned for ten minutes, but the feeling gnawed at him. His wolf had started pacing at minute two. By minute six, Xeon was howling internally loud enough to rattle Fin's teeth. Xeon: You always have a choice. The trick is figuring out the right one. There was no choice. He would find her. He rose abruptly, pulling on his boots. His body moved on its own, carrying him to the door. No shirt. Instinct didn't care about dignity. Out the door. Down the stone hall. Past silent guards who knew better than to question. The scent slammed into him again, full force. Vanilla and moonlight curled through the air like a summons. He followed it, each step faster than the last, stopping at a narrow spiral staircase. Old stone. Every instinct screamed that if he delayed even a breath, something terrible would happen. He climbed, two stairs at a time. His hand closed around a door handle at the top. It was locked. Xeon: Kick it down. He didn't need his wolf to tell him, because the instinct was already there. He drove his boot into the wood with Alpha force. The frame groaned but held. He slammed his shoulder into it next, the impact jarring bone, but he didn't care. He hit it again, harder. The rusted lock cracked, finally tearing loose. The door flew inward.