Page 51 of Bonds of Pain
When he doesn’t continue, I’m forced to ask. “What did you offer them?”
“Omegas, of course.” He makes the devastating pronouncement with all the gravity as a comment about the weather. “Enough for every Alpha of status in the realm.”
I nearly choke on a shocked laugh. “We don’t have anywhere near that many, not even if you conquered the entire continent.”
“I established the Enclave thinking that would be a solution to the problem. Foolish of me, I know. Unfortunately, there isn’t some hidden cadre of Omegas concealing their designation in our population.” Leopold picks up his empty glass and twirls it between his fingers, watching the light catch in its facets and grooves. He is lost in contemplation for only a moment before his face hardens with the resolve. “No, the problem is biological in nature. There is no amount of force or compulsion that will allow us to overcome it.”
“Do you have a plan to address the situation?” I ask.
Leopold’s lips curl into a knowing smile. “I believe that question should be directed at you, my son. After all, you’re to be my heir. I expect to hear your strategies sooner rather than later if you hope to maintain that position for long.”
The implied threat isn’t lost on me. My father has never been one to tolerate weakness, and the title of heir can be stripped away as easily as it was bestowed.
“The immediate concern is maintaining order,” Leopold continues, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Civil unrest would devastate our position before any external threat materializes. We need to keep the population calm and distracted.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“I’ve arranged for a grand tourney to follow the announcement of your position as heir. Nothing distracts the masses like spectacle and bloodsport.” His eyes glitter with calculated amusement. “The Great Houses will send their champions, and the festivities will provide ample opportunity to gauge their true loyalties.”
I nod, my mind already working through military contingencies. “We should recall the reserve units stationed in the Outlands. Begin training maneuvers with our wider forces, but frame it as preparation for the tourney’s military exhibitions.”
“A prudent suggestion.” He murmurs, obviously pleased. His approval feels bestowed like a rare gift. “I’ve always respected your abilities as a military strategist, Logan. It’s one of the reasons I’ve chosen you over your brothers.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I reply, the formality a shield against the unexpected praise. “But war will not create new Omegas. It will only deplete what few we have.”
Leopold sets his empty glass down with a decisive click. “I have other plans for solving that persistently frustrating problem. My father and his couldn’t fix it, but I will.” His expression darkens. “There are specialists making remarkable progress as we speak. Sometimes solutions require...unconventional approaches. Alphas need Omegas, and they need us. The biological imperative is more important than any other consideration. Be happy you’ve found yours so easily.”
The chill that runs down my spine has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. There’s something in my father’s tone that suggests knowledge beyond what he’s sharing—something that makes me think of Maya, of Cillian, of the bonds that tie us together.
I fully intend to press him for more information, when he cuts me off.
“You’re dismissed,” he says abruptly. “Return to your duties. The announcement ceremony is in three days. I expect you and your Omega to be appropriately prepared.”
I rise and bow, the perfect picture of filial obedience. But as I walk from the throne room, dread settles in my stomach like a stone. My father’s words about Dr. Thane echo in my mind, carrying implications I dare not examine too closely.
Whatever plans he has forsolvingour Omega shortage, I’m certain they will come at a terrible price—one that may already involve those closest to me.
Ipush open the door to the apartment, mind still reeling from my father’s revelations. The sound of laughter hits me first. Genuine, uninhibited laughter that seems out of place in these rooms that have lately held nothing but tension.
The scene before me is unexpected. They’re gathered around the dining table, plates half-empty, wine glasses in various states of fullness. Maya sits beside Cillian, their heads bent so close together they nearly touch, shoulders brushing as she whispers something that makes him smile. Across from them, Ares leans back in his chair, relaxed in a way I rarely see him, while Poe…
Poe. Is. Laughing.
Guffawing, even.
Not the haughty snorts or single surprised chortle that is all I’ve ever heard from him before. True, uninhibited laughter. The sound is so foreign that I pause in the doorway. In all our years together, I can’t recall ever hearing Poe truly laugh. His usual expressions range from stoic vigilance to sardonic amusement, but this uninhibited sound is something entirely new.
I’m pretty sure I fucking hate it. If just because, my first thought is that I want to know just what he finds so damn funny.
Maybe it’s the glare I already know is on my face, but Poe is the first to sense me staring. His laughter cuts off abruptly as his eyes meet mine. The others follow his gaze, and the easy atmosphere evaporates instantly. Maya straightens, putting deliberate space between herself and Cillian. Ares shifts into a more formal posture. The warmth I glimpsed dissolves into watchful silence.
Something sharp and petty twists in my chest. They were enjoying themselves in a way I’ve never seen before, without me.
What the hell is so damn entertaining?
“Don’t stop on my account,” I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice. “You all seem to be having quite the evening.”
No one responds. Maya’s fingers toy with the stem of her wine glass, her eyes carefully avoiding mine. Cillian clears his throat but says nothing.
