TORMENT OF POSSIBILITIES

At this point I could get a dairy to write down, everyday, how much Alaric’s scent, usually a comforting background hum to my existence, was now a blatant assault. His scent is suffocating —intoxicating my scent.

My omega whimpered, recognizing its mate, craving his presence with a desperation I couldn't afford to acknowledge. I scrubbed harder at the already spotless desk, the scent of lemon polish doing little to mask the Alpha's potent aroma that clung to everything in his study.

"Another perfect report, Kael," Alaric had said earlier, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. Just a simple praise, but my idiotic omega had preened. He was getting too close, invading my carefully constructed bubble of normalcy. How much longer could I pretend to be just a Beta servant when every cell in my body screamed for him?

The King’s summons had been a welcome reprieve. It meant Alaric would be gone, granting me a short respite from this agonizing proximity. But the relief was short-lived. Just as I was beginning to breathe easier, a new scent wafted through the door, a cloying sweetness that made my stomach churn. Rosewater and honey, an omega scent, but refined, expensive. And the origin of this new scent walked into Alaric's study alongside Alaric.

I shouldn't have eavesdropped, I knew it. But my traitorous feet carried me closer to the closed door, my ears straining to catch the murmur of voices.

"Prince Alaric," the omega's voice was melodious, almost too perfect. "It's been too long."

Alaric's response was polite, but formal. “Lady Annelise, thank you for accepting my invitation.”

My heart clenched. Invitation?

"So," Lady Annelise continued, a playful lilt in her voice. "Tell me, Prince Alaric, what exactly are you looking for in a… companion?"

Companion. The word hung in the air, thick with unspoken implications. I gripped the feather duster so tightly my knuckles turned white. A companion? As in, a potential mate? But… the bond. He felt it, he had to. His wolf had practically roared "mate" when my scent blockers failed.

"That is a rather… direct question, Lady Annelise," Alaric chuckled, a sound that pierced through my carefully constructed defenses.

"Well, time is of the essence, wouldn't you agree? One cannot afford to be coy when searching for a suitable match. I, for instance, value intelligence, ambition, and a strong sense of family. And, of course, a shared appreciation for the arts."

The conversation continued, a polite dance of interests and preferences. They discussed their families, their hobbies, their views on courtly life. Every word was a knife twisting in my gut.

"And you, Prince Alaric? What qualities do you find most appealing in a potential… partner?" Annelise asked.

"Loyalty. Duty. Someone who understands the responsibilities that come with this life," Alaric answered smoothly.

The words were like a punch to the gut. Loyalty, duty... abstract concepts. Not love, not connection, not the burning, undeniable pull of a fated bond. I pressed my hand against my mouth, stifling a sob.

How could he? How could he sit there, discussing potential partners, when our bond screamed between us? Did he truly believe he could just ignore a connection forged by the Fates themselves?

The absurdity of it all struck me. Here he was, the Alpha Prince, burdened by expectations and societal pressures, meticulously searching for a suitable omega, while his true mate, his destined mate, was right outside the door, dusting furniture and pretending to be invisible.

"Of course," Annelise said eventually, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There are… whispers. Whispers that you are… particular. Unhurried about choosing a mate."

Alaric's tone hardened slightly. "I am simply waiting for the right person, Lady Annelise."

The right person. It echoed in my head, a cruel taunt. Was I not the right person? Was a male omega so repulsive, so unacceptable, that he would rather settle for a loveless union than acknowledge our bond?

A wave of pure, unadulterated jealousy washed over me. I wanted to burst into the room, declare myself his mate, and damn the consequences. I wanted to drag the supposed Lady Annelise out by her perfectly coiffed hair and scream that Alaric was mine.

But I couldn't. I was Kael, the lowly “Beta” servant, a shadow in the palace halls. Claiming the Alpha Prince as my mate would be suicide – for both of us, especially me.

I backed away from the door, my legs trembling. The scent of cedarwood and spice clung to me, a constant, mocking reminder of what I could never have. My omega writhed in protest, desperate to be closer to its mate, to claim its rightful place.

It was becoming unbearable. The constant battle to suppress my omega, the agonizing proximity to Alaric, the charade I had to maintain… It was all too much. It would have been easier if I had simply harbored a little crush on the prince, but my omega had to go and complicate things, didn't it? Now I knew I was supposed to be with Alaric and that made me long for him in a way that was utterly sickening.

Functioning around Alaric had become an exercise in self-control. The sound of his voice, the way the light caught his golden facial features, the casual brush of his hand against mine when he asked for a report… It all sent jolts of longing through me, tightening the knot of despair in my chest.

Alaric's actions only confirmed his stance. The way he meticulously avoided eye contact, the clipped tone he used when addressing me, the almost deliberate effort he made to maintain a professional distance… Every interaction was a subtle, yet painful, rejection.

A few days later, another omega arrived at the palace. Lady Seraphina, known for her beauty and her powerful family connections. And again, I found myself relegated to the role of silent observer, forced to witness Alaric parade another potential mate through the palace gardens.

This time, I couldn’t hold it together.

I ducked into a small, empty storage room, the scent of dust and old linen doing little to mask the potent blend of cedarwood and rose that now permeated the air. I huddled in a corner, tears streaming down my face, silent sobs racking my body.

It wasn't just the rejection, it was the finality of it all. Alaric wasn't just choosing to ignore our bond; he was actively seeking someone else. He was building a life, a future, that didn't include me.

I didn't even notice the tears falling free until my cheeks were wet and stinging. In my head, I could hear my mother's voice: Don't let them see it, Kael. Never let them see who you are.

I had to leave. I couldn't stay here, watching him court other omegas, knowing that I was his mate, but he would never accept me. My omega was being tortured and I couldn't take it anymore.

Where would I go? What would I do? I had no other family aside from my mother, no friends, no resources beyond the meager wages I and my mother earned. But anything, anything, was better than this slow, agonizing death.

I wiped my face, trying to compose myself. I had to be strong, for my own sake. I had to find a way to escape, to disappear, to create a new life where I could finally be free – even if it meant being alone forever… hear how smoothly delusional, if not stupid, that sounded? Me, leaving the palace

and achieving a whole new life? What a healthy dose of self-mockery.