Page 82 of Bonds of Pain
Cillian has taken up a guard position behind us. He doesn’t say a word or make a sound. But even without looking at him, I feel the depth of his annoyance through the bond.
Logan’s arm wraps more solidly around my waist. His tone remains even, but carries the slightest hint of warning. “My Omega is perfect just the way she is.”
I ignore the way my chest lightens at the words. Logan has never had a problem saying the right things. It’s his actions that matter in the end.
The oldest Alpha seated at the table, hair as white as his eyes are keen, finally speaks. “So we see. Your father has made assurances that the Omega propagation effort we all sacrificed so much for would eventually bear dividends. We’re all happy to see that appears to be the case.”
“Indeed.” Logan’s smile is little more than a baring of his teeth. “I think the next round starts with you, Lord Farqin.”
With that, the men return to their game while my mind whirls.
Omega propagation effort?
What the hell does that mean?
My throat clenches with the effort to swallow back demanding questions. Questions I know Logan won’t deign to answer.
It’s no secret that Alphas outnumber Omegas practically ten-to-one in the general population. You don’t need to be conspiracy-minded to assume the king would undertake any feasible effort to increase the Omega birthrate. It makes perfect sense.
So why do I feel like something nefarious is going on?
I blink back to an awareness of my surroundings when the stench of liquor burns my nostrils.
My gaze moves from the glass being held under my nose to Logan’s slight smirk.
“Take a sip,” he murmurs. “It’ll help you relax.”
I do, because that’s easier than refusing him in front of these strange Alphas. But as the drink burns down my throat, I can’t resist a small barb.
“I could down the rest of the bottle and it won’t change much.”
The youngest Alpha at the table—he can’t be more than a few years older than me—leans forward with an eager smile. His gaze flicks from Logan to me as he reaches into his jacket pocket.
“Perhaps the lady would prefer something more to her taste?” He produces a small baggie filled with pale pink powder, holding it between two fingers like an offering. “This is extracted from the rosa mentis flower that only grows in the western mountain ranges. We call it blush back home.”
“I’m familiar.” Logan’s hand tightens on my waist, his voice dropping to a dangerous octave. “My Omega doesn’t need your provincial narcotics.”
I stiffen at his presumption. My Omega doesn’tneed, he says. Not even a question of what I might want.
The bearded Alpha chuckles, eyeing the baggie with interest. “Come now, Prince Logan. A little blush never hurt anyone. It’s quite popular among the nobility in our region, even some of our most respected Omegas partake.”
“Indeed,” adds the white-haired Lord Farqin. “My own mate finds it quite enjoyable during social gatherings. Helps her overcome her natural shyness.”
I can only imagine that shyness has something to do with being ogled like an exotic animal in a zoo, but I keep that thought to myself.
“I said no.” Logan’s tone is final, brooking no argument.
The others exchange glances, clearly surprised by his refusal. I can feel Logan’s satisfaction at having shut them down, and it rankles me more than I care to admit. Not because I particularlywant whatever drug they’re offering, but because he didn’t even consider my opinion worth bothering with.
The Alpha with the baggie notices my expression and smiles knowingly. “Your Omega seems disappointed by your decision, Your Highness.”
Logan’s gaze snaps to my face, studying me. I keep my expression neutral, but I can’t help the slight tightening of my jaw.
“Perhaps you should let her decide for herself,” suggests another Alpha. “After all, isn’t that the progressive attitude in the capital these days? Allowing Omegas some…autonomy?”
His voice drips with condescension and barely restrained censure, but I seize the opportunity, regardless.
“You did say you wanted me to relax,” I remind Logan sweetly, turning in his lap to face him. I trail my fingers along his jawline, feeling him tense beneath my touch. “And you’ve been so insistent that I enjoy myself tonight.”
