Page 66 of Run Little Omega

A growl builds in my chest, deep and menacing. They would replace me? After centuries of flawless service, of maintaining the restraint they demanded, of denying my essential nature to uphold court politics? Because I've claimed one omega as exclusively mine?

The mere thought of Briar beneath another alpha sends fresh frost cascading down the tree trunk. Nine dead rivals doesn’t touch what I would do. I would slaughter thousands, freeze the entire forest into eternal winter, tear down the very boundaries between realms before allowing another to touch what belongs to me alone.

I descend silently from the branch, landing behind them with unnatural grace despite my enlarged frame. Both alphas whirl, instincts alerting them to the danger they’re in.

"Prince Cadeyrn," Frostbaine drops immediately to one knee, head bowed. Glacius follows a heartbeat later, trembling visibly as I approach.

"Discussing succession, Lord Frostbaine?" My voice emerges rougher than before, permanently altered by days of primal sounds torn from my throat during claiming. "A curious topic during the Wild Hunt."

Fear sharpens his scent. "A theoretical discussion only, my prince. We were merely?—"

"Merely questioning my fitness to rule," I complete his thought, circling them with predatory deliberation. Ice forms beneath my bare feet with each step, spreading in patterns that echo the cillae growing on me. "Merely suggesting my choice of omega endangers court breeding programs."

"Your exclusive claim breaks precedent," Glacius offers cautiously. "The Hunt traditionally allows multiple alphas to?—"

"I know what the Hunttraditionallypermits," I cut him off, my patience evaporating. "Just as I understand what court physicianstraditionallyclaim about rutting. That it weakens. That it diminishes." I extend my fingers, frost gathering around them like living extensions of my will. "They were profoundly mistaken."

The two alphas exchange nervous glances, fear radiating from them in waves.

"We serve the Winter Court," Frostbaine says carefully. "Our concern is for its continued success, my prince."

"Then perhaps reconsider what true power is,” I reply, magic pulsing visibly beneath my skin as I speak. "Your meticulously calculated breeding programs have yielded generations of declining magical potency. Our power wanes with eachsupposedlyperfect pairing."

My thoughts turn to Briar—her copper hair wild as flame, her amber eyes flashing defiance even as her body yielded beneath mine, the way Wild Magic erupted around us during claiming, awakening dormant plants and causing ancient trees to bow in recognition.

"She carries something unique in her blood," I continue, speaking more to myself than to them. "Something ancient. Something that resonates with dormant elements in my lineage. I sense it through our claiming bond."

Glacius leans forward despite his fear. "You believe she possesses fae heritage?"

"I know she does," I state with absolute certainty. "Just as I know neither of you will ever touch her."

The threat hangs between us, unmistakable though unspoken. Frostbaine swallows hard, while Glacius pales to the shade of fresh snow.

"The council still requires your presence," Frostbaine ventures after a tense silence. "The other courts are demanding explanations about their deceased alphas."

I laugh, the sound harsh and unrestrained. "Let them demand. I'll attend their meeting and explain my position with sufficient clarity for even the Spring Court representatives to comprehend."

Relief flickers across Frostbaine's features. "Thank you, my prince."

"But understand this clearly," I step closer, frost spiraling from my feet to surrounded them menacingly. "My claiming of this omega isn't temporary. She ismine, exclusively and permanently. Any alpha who approaches her will meet the same fate as the others."

Through our bond, I feel Briar stir at the surge of possessive energy. Miles away from me in the forest, she senses my declaration, responding with a pulse of irritation and—beneath it but unmistakable—a flicker of arousal that sends fresh heat coursing through my veins.

She still resists our connection. Fights her nature, fights her response to me, fights what we both know is inevitable. The thought curves my lips into a smile, anticipation building as the crimson moon creeps toward the horizon. Tonight I'll find her again, remind her body who it belongs to while her mind continues its futile rebellion.

"Is there anything else?" I ask, already turning away, already envisioning copper hair spread across forest moss, amber eyes hazed with reluctant pleasure, my teeth breaking her skin as my knot locks us together.

"The Council specifically inquired," Glacius ventures cautiously, "about your interest in this particular omega. Her coloring contradicts our court aesthetic, especially now that her glamour has faded. They wish to understand what qualities make her worthy of such... attention."

I pause, considering how to articulate what I barely comprehend myself. How to describe the instant recognition that struck me at the Gathering Circle, seeing through her glamour to the copper-haired strength beneath. How to explain the scent that incinerated seven centuries of control, awakening instincts I'd been taught to suppress since childhood.

"She fights," I say finally. "Even as her body surrenders to mine, even as pleasure shatters her voice, even as my knot locks within her—she fights. She is strong, and that is… appealing to me.”

The two alphas stare, clearly failing to comprehend.

My mind floods with memories of our first claiming—the sensations remain so vivid they nearly bring me to my knees before these lesser alphas.

I recall finding her in that moonlit clearing beneath the massive blackthorn, copper hair finally breaking through the glamour as her heat peaked. Her scent hit me like physical impact—honey and metal andreadiness—burning away rational thought as my cock hardened painfully against my makeshift clothing.

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