The first sensation was the smell, not the sterile antiseptic tang she expected, but a salty forced air like that in the Traverse.
Then the pounding headache.
She heard the sound of machinery, beeping.
Cait willed her eyes open to a featureless white ceiling.
It felt her body was floating in a numbness that felt less like healing and more like sensory deprivation.
“Ugh.” she whimpered.
Her mouth and lips had been kept moist, but she was still thirsty.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a cup.
When she tried to move, a dull ache radiated from her joints, deeper than fatigue.
It felt like her bones had been hollowed out.
She opened her eyes and blinked, disoriented.
Her fingers brushed the IV line taped to her inner elbow.
Two machines hummed beside the bed, screens flashing green numbers she didn’t understand.
Cait turned her head to survey the room.
This was not the room she fell asleep in.
It was not the ABO hospital either, it was nice.
This was above ground, somewhere private and expensive.
She felt lighter; the burning heat was gone, but was replaced with overall pain and dread.
Cait tried to pull herself up on the bed.
The room spun.
She closed her eyes and opened them in disbelief.
This was the surface.
Her eyes hurt from the non-synthetic daylight as it filtered into the room through the sheer curtains.
She had felt actual sun once before, it felt warm.
She felt the sunbeam with her hand, it illuminated the fluid in the intravenous lines like liquid gold.
Her skin looked overly yellow as well.
‘He must be paying for this.
He can’t logically expect me to be able to afford this?
Even if I am an omega.’ Cait thought, ‘Wait, I’m an omega.’
Cait’s hands fell to her body to check for any differences.
‘Stupid, it’s not going to happen overnight or maybe at all.
You’re in a hospital bed.
Not a fantasy story’ she thought.
‘You probably will never look like an omie, the poison and all.’
At least she was being taken care of, for now.
The doctor said that she would have been dead in a few months; getting an antidote for the poison did not magically fix her.
‘Maybe it is pity, maybe I don’t have long?’ Cait despaired.
He could be treating her well or his assistant could be.
The hospital gown was silk, clung cool against Cait’s skin, floral patterns blooming across her lap like unwanted graffiti.
The visual distortions came again, stronger than the other night.
The hallucinations swirled about the room like rolling clouds.
The room spun.
“Gods.” she rasped and clamped her eyes shut.
She waited.
“Ugh, ugh.” she groaned.
‘What happened to me after that shot?’ Cait thought; she searched her mind.
She remembered the mental clarity and then as quickly as she had it, it was gone and replaced with a blur.
Obviously it led to sex.
She had read stories on forums about men getting stabbed in the brain with vibro-blades and going to work their shifts because their paleo-brains took over.
‘Think Cait, what did you do?’ Cait mentally ordered herself.
‘What would you do first?’
“Cold shower.” she rasped to herself.
Heat flooded her cheeks as the memories came crashing back to her.
“How?” Cait whispered to herself.
He was three times her size.
Surprisingly muscular under that suit for a business person.
‘How did I find the strength to force him down like that.
I practically assaulted him,maybe he has a kink for that?’
Cait remembered shredding his pants to get access to it, in the most foreign and brazen manner she had ever done in her life, and stuffing it.
His assistant was right.
She was still a virgin with Henry.
It was like believing that a sample was a full course meal.
It hurt, but it was like the missing jigsaw piece was finally in place, as to sex was appalling to her body with Henry.
He was far too small to take her virginity and she was not biologically receptive to him.
She could not believe that she was brazen enough to do that to ‘Owen Thorne’, she treated him like what her older friends at the textile factory called a ‘fuck boy’.
‘Gods help me, if I’m going to die, at least I went out well.
I used the richest man in the Traverse for my own pleasure.’ Cait thought, a small momentary grin hooked her lips.
Then more of the events filtered through.
Her left hand, free of medical devices and ports travelled to her hips.
She hissed in pain as she felt the tender bruises.
A demanding ache beneath the soft silk surfaced.
“Fuck.” she murmured, more fragments surfaced: Owen’s blue eyes gone molten, the hot brutal grip of his hands on her hips, the impossible fullness as he’d filled her deep, trapped between her own thighs.
Cait’s mouth dried out.
She bit him.
He had been tender towards the end.
She reached for the plastic water cup on the bedside tray.
Her wrist jerked, catching the IV line.
A sudden, shrill alarm ripped through the quiet.
The door slammed open.
A harried man in a rumpled white coat burst in, stethoscope askew.
Behind him, moving with unnerving calm, stood Kieran.
His smoke-gray hair was perfectly swept, green eyes sharp as broken glass beneath the fluorescent lights.
“Relax, it’s just a line occlusion,” the doctor, Jameson, whose badge read, snapped at the Omega next to him, silencing the alarm with a practiced jab.
He adjusted Cait’s IV, fingers clinically tracing the lines.
“Put your hackles down Mr. Rose.”
“Where am I…?” Cait’s voice rasped, unfamiliar in her own ears.
“The ABO Citadel’s Omega Wing. Level three. Normund.” Dr.
Jameson’s tone was clinical, but his gaze lingered on the biometric display above her head.
“You’ve been unconscious for seventy-two hours. Your organs were failing. Your kidneys, specifically, were crystallizing from the suppressant residue. The damage was worse than we thought. Another three months, and we’d be discussing palliative care, not recovery.”
“Recovery?” Cait asked.
There was hope?
She had dammed up her hopelessness.
It broke in her mind, the walls of melancholy holding them up crumbling.
Her breath caught.
“Yes, sooner or later.” he said.
He looked at her red rimmed eyes.
Owen Thorne and the Rose family would pay anything to heal her.
Tears began to fall from Cait’s eyes.
“T-Thank you.” she sobbed.
Immense relief and sorrow filled her.
Sorrow of the lies that led her here to her almost demise.
Her dad hated her.
“Here.” The doctor handed her some tissue with a look of discomfort, the case was heartbreaking and surprising enough for him.
Him and his staff had seen the scars littering her flesh, the malnutrition.
After finding all the signs of abuse, it did not paint a pretty picture.
“I am Dr. Jameson. I will be caring for you while you are in Normund.” He stepped closer, a cedarwood scent intensifying.
Not threatening.
Protective.
“Do you remember what happened?”
“Yes.” Cait swallowed, throat parched despite the water she hadn’t reached.
“I remember enough.”
“Good.” Dr.
Jameson said as he tapped his slate.
A holographic scan materialized above Cait’s bed, a 3D rendering of her own body, organs highlighted in pulsing colors.
“Because what happened wasn’t just a medical emergency. It was an evolutionary correction. An emergency override.” Dr.
Jameson zoomed in on her spine, where intricate neural pathways glowed gold.
“Your body was never meant to be suppressed. You’re an omega, a strong one at that. Most would not be able to survive what you have.” Dr.Jameson explained.
“So I’m a freak?” Cait asked.
“No, more of a genetic outlier, but in a good way. Look, your biology has been fighting the suppressants likely since you were a girl and the dosage from what we pulled from the pills in your bag in the lab was enough to kill a man alone.” Dr.
Jameson explained.
“It still sounds like I am some sort of freak.” Cait said.
“It’s strong blood lines. We think. We can’t explain it. We won’t know until extensive testing is done, which your mate has declined to have done in a public hospital.” Dr.
Jameson admitted.
“He’s my mate now?” Cait asked, shocked.
Owen Thorne was sticking around?
“When you mated with Owen, you imprinted something rare on him. It is a ‘marking’ from what has been explained to me. It’s somewhat permanent.”
“Mated, what do you—m-m-mean?” she stuttered.
Her brows furrowed as a confused and far away look painted her face.
Beads of sweat formed on her brow.
The room spun, with hallucinations.
“What’s going on?” Dr.
Jameson asked as he saw her bewildered look crossed her face.
The walls look like they were melting, she looked at her nervous system on the holo-monitor, the colours bleeding.
Cait stared at the glowing spine and her nervous system, ‘her’ spine that reached into her brain.
Dr.
Jameson snapped in her face a few times, and took at a pen light.
“I see shit. Visual hallucinations. They started up really bad, after I started running out of the pills. Normally they…stop.” Her voice sounded like it was echoing in her head.
“Those are withdrawal symptoms from the narcotic in your pills. I will prescribe an anti-nausant medication, but we don’t want to ply your body with too much medicine. All medicines possess a dual nature, therapeutic and potential toxicity.” Dr.
Jameson said.
A high pitch whine filled Cait’s ears as she heard her heartbeat in her ear.
She watched Dr.
Jameson’s lips move.
Cait nodded only half hearing what he was saying.
She had to trust him on this.
He was a Doctor, she had to trust the oath they took.
The pneumatic hiss of a door opening warbled in her ear as Dr.
Jameson looked at her with pity.
It made her feel uncomfortable.
“He bears a mark on his hand to say that he is off limits to others, that he ‘yours’.” Kieran explained.
Cait jumped, “Oh, holy shit. You scared me. I bet he’s pissed off.” Cait paled.
That was her boss.
“He is entirely fine with it. He was as shocked as you are.” Kieran said.
Cait’s face registered shook, she was under the impression that she was some big imposition on him.
But now that she was some strong Omega and her body called dibs, so it was fine?
Owen was right, it was all going to seem weird to her.
“I lived my life being told that I was a Beta Dominant, the product of two failed Omega breedings, and I was told it made me a little more gifted than others. So am I more gifted than an actual omega?” Cait asked.
“You are more than gifted. Again, what you have been through would have killed even an Alpha.” Kieran said.
The room fell silent.
Dr.
Jameson looked at the young prince, he must have a lot to say to her.
“Yes, you are rare. Incredibly rare. Less than 0.1% of omegas are born female. They are usually weaker. You are the Omega version of a high level alpha. You should be concealed for your own safety, but there is nothing I can do about that now.” Kieran said.
Jameson’s mouth thinned as he briefly looked at Kieran.
“Lord Rose, has not made that exactly possible.”
“What do you mean?” Cait asked, looking at Kieran strangely, he was the only ‘Lord Rose’ here.
“Later. It’s more complicated than you think.” Kieran promised.
“Don’t worry. Security has been taken care of by Thorne Inc. I will look out for you, Owen will too.” Kieran said.
He was just as responsible for Cait, as Owen was.
It came as a shock to him.
Dr.
Jameson nodded, “Let’s talk about the poison.”
The hologram shifted, displaying a molecular structure, jagged, aggressive chains coiling like barbed wire.
“This is Veridian-9. An archaic compound was banned globally in 2287AF, for inducing systemic necrosis. It was masked in your suppressants. Black market, from my guess. Or found in a warehouse somewhere. It was designed not just to suppress, but to ‘corrode’ the inside of the body.”
“Why me? I am nobody.” The word was scraped out.
Cait’s eyes ran with tears.
Kieran’s eyes locked onto hers.
“Because you are somebody, and someone didn’t want you found alive.”
“So,” Jameson sighed, rubbing his temples.
“The damage is… significant. We’ve stabilized you, but conventional medicine can only do so much. The neural scarring, the organ stress…” He met her stunned gaze.
“My Dad must have really wanted me dead, huh? He hates Omies.” she choked.
Cait’s eyes dripped, that’s right, her dad wanted her dead.
‘Why poison?
Why not just plunge a vibro-blade in her, or disappear her?
He had the capability?’ Cait ribs shook as she started to sob, why did she have to have hope there.
“You did not let me finish, Cait. You are one of us, remember.” Dr.
Jameson gave her a tissue and shook her arm.
“Come on, breathe.” he said as he watched her wipe her face.
At least she treasured her life, unlike some Alphas.
He was treating one with alcohol induced pancreatitis.
He could not stop for the life of him.
“You need a specialized doctor called a ‘Healer’. Someone who can work on the cellular level, repair what toxins have shattered. So you need to accept any treatments from healers you are offered.” He didn’t finish.
The implication hung in the antiseptic air: a shortened life, diminished power, vulnerability.
“A Healer?” Cait asked puzzled, her brows raising with curiosity.
“It is a manifested physical skill, like being able to run fast or jump high, like in Arena Ball. If you watched that?” Dr.
Jameson explained.
“Oh, for real? You guys can do stuff like that?!” Cait asked, her eyes widened.
Dr.
Jameson laughed, “Yes, really.” he answered.
He did not know why, but she was really endearingly precious.
“Do you have a power?” Cait asked.
“I calm people passively.” Dr.
Jameson answered.
He rubbed his neck nervously.
It was not impressive in comparison to others.
Cait’s eyes sparkled with residual tears, it hit her that she had only briefly lost it.
She was dying and found out her whole damn life was a lie.
She grabbed his arm, and inhaled.
“So nobody gets mad enough to beat you, I wish I had that ability. That is so cool.”
“What about you?” she asked Kieran.
“It’s a secret.” Kieran said, and winked.
He could not say publicly.
“Oh!” Cait smiled softly.
Kieran changed the subject.
“She won’t have to worry about the quality of the healer. At least.” Kieran pushed off the bed, his movements fluid, purposeful.
“I’ll handle it,” he said, his voice clipped, devoid of its earlier dry detachment.
Pure logistics now.
He had to capitalize on Michael’s connections.
“Who are you using?” Dr.Jameson asked, wondering who Thorne would pay to heal her, it would take billions.
“Remy Dubois. The best… and deeply entwined with my Rose family interests.” Kieran answered.
A flicker of something complex passed through his eyes – calculation, perhaps resignation.
“Negotiating his immediate services will require… finesse.” He pulled out a sleek, dark communicator.
“It won’t be pleasant, but it will be done. But you will probably end up meeting him after we get home.”
“Home?” Cait was puzzled.
“With you and Owen?”
“Yes.” Kieran said, and swallowed.
It had decade since he left Alba.
He looked at her and Dr.
Jameson.
“I will let the doctor do his work and then we will talk. Okay?” Kieran said, hesitating.
This would need to be done very delicately.
He stood near her.
His eyes, sharp and watchful as a sparrows, held pity, only a weary kind of understanding.
Dr.
Jameson watched Kieran leave the room, his focus returning to Cait.
His voice softened, a rare hint of genuine concern breaking through his clinical demeanor.
“Caitriona? How are you feeling ‘now’? Not just the hunger. Not just the shock. Inside. After hearing that?” He watched her intently, the machines beside her bed humming their steady, oblivious rhythm.
The question wasn’t about physical symptoms anymore.
It was about the foundation of her world crumbling twice over in one conversation.
“I have had worse days, not every day you learn your father was poisoning you,” she rasped.
The words tasted bitter.
Every muscle felt stiff, welded to the bed frame.
Let’s not talk about down south.
The hunger gnawed deeper.
“Like I’ve been trampled by a group of people during a flooding drill. And… starving.”
Dr.
Jameson explained.
“The blockers that have been pumped into you for years are leaching out. Your body’s remembering what it is, and recovering. We have different caloric needs than what you grew up with.”
A pause fell.
She forced the next words out, low, almost drowned by the machine’s renewed hum.
“Am I…um in danger of getting pregnant?”
Dr.
Jameson shook his head briskly.
“Pfft, in danger of getting pregnant? It’s highly improbable. Not until we detox you properly. That could take two or three quarters, at least.” His gaze flickered over her chart.
“For now, focus on nutrition and getting better. You will likely still be on medicine when you leave. You are severely deficient in everything; there is no way your body will allow implantation. You need iron, B12, Vitamin D, and Calcium.” Dr.
Jameson said.
And as if anticipating her next question, Dr.Jameson gestured vaguely at the room.
“You are in a private hospital.
Courtesy of your… Mr.
Thorne.
I will inform the dietician to start work on your meal.
And,” he added, glancing at Kieran with dry sarcasm, “Thanks for the promotion, Madam.”
“Your brother is waiting for us to finish.” Dr.
Jameson smiled.
He exited swiftly.
“Brother?” Cait asked.
Silence pooled, thick and cold.
The door opened again.
Kieran Rose stepped in.
“Oh, hi again Mister Rose,” Cait rasped.
“Thank you for saving me.”
Kieran stepped closer.
His expression was unreadable, a serene mask, but his heart was anything but.
“Call me, Kieran.” his voice wavered, he pictured this being easier.
“Listen, I know your only helping me because of Owen.” Cait began.
“No, that’s not it.” Kieran interrupted her, his face dropping its serene mask.
“I did not mean to..” Cait panicked interjecting.
“You didn’t.” Kieran stammered stepped forward, he hated touch but it felt necessary.
His warm hand fell on her boney shoulder.
“Listen, Cait,” he began, his voice quiet, precise.
“There’s something you need to know.” He paused, letting the sterile air hang heavy.
“We’re siblings. Half-siblings. You are a member of the Rose family.”
She was a Rose.
The name echoed, sharp and alien, cutting deeper than any hunger.
She faintly remembered the media about this story.
It was a shock.
“You have to be fucking kidding me?” Cait exclaimed.
She examined him, as his face crumpled.
“You aren’t kidding me are you?”
“No. I am not.” He wiped his eyes while trying desperately to keep his composure.
“You can really tell you’re one of us by that mouth.”
“We never thought we’d find you alive. But you did. All Omegan’s need their fathers.”
“I nearly didn’t. ” Cait said.
The floral patterns on the silk gown blurred.
Hot tears flooded her eyes again.
She felt so completely abandoned when she woke up.
When she pieced it together that she would have died if she continued to trust her father.
That the herbal medication prescribed was actually poison to her.
All the years of abuse, the rejection, the apathy towards her made perfect sense.
She felt stupid.
Stupid because she loved her parents.
She remembered what her mother had said, what they all said about their kind.
That if you entered into a breeding contract with an Omega, had an Omegan child, it did things to your mind when the child and the father left.
What happened to Omegan children must be the same or worse.
She had always been smaller and sickly.
‘Did mother run with her knowing she could die, or was she afraid that my biological father would take me?’ Cait thought, her brows furrowing.
“So you are my brother?” Cait whispered, her voice thin.
“Wow.”her hands reached out weakly.
‘Is that why he’s not hostile that I stole his man?’ she thought.
Kieran grabbed her left hand intimately.
He was surprised.
“Yes. I’m technically your half-brother. My mother was our fathers first wife.” he said.
Kieran’s fox-like features held no deceit, only that serene detachment she’d seen in the promotional media.
“I’m so glad. I have always wanted a big brother. Someone to protect me.” Cait smiled weakly.
A strange warmth unfurled in her chest, fragile but undeniable.
Family.
Not the suffocating loneliness and poverty of her childhood, but ‘this’.
“How, what are the odds of you finding me? Like that?” Cait stared at her hands.
The hunger vanished, replaced by icy shock.
“To be honest, astronomical. You were lost among trillions of people over thousands of miles.” Kieran said.
“Maybe, that is why you seemed safe enough to trust?
” she admitted, “I was raised to not trust Omies.” The words escaped before she could cage them.
She regretted it.
Kieran spaced out as he thought about it.
“Sorry.” she said, mistaking his quietness for being insulted,
A startled flicker crossed Kieran’s eyes – validation, perhaps, swiftly buried beneath his polished calm.
“Dad can smell family too.” he said.
A sweet feeling entered his chest as her eyes widened and her mouth pursed like a little chick.
This was his long lost sister.
He had watched her sleep.
Father packed and followed them when they left Geneva for the private hospital in Normund.
He leaned against the window ledge, the sterile light catching the silver threads in his suit.
“The father who raised you, stole you.
Your mother, she tried to kill our Father and left with you.
She nearly killed you both.” he stated, clinically, “He murdered a woman, her child and her husband.
Stole their identities.
They needed a clean slate for you..” Kieran’s gaze didn’t waver.
“I figured.” Cait softly retorted as she fiddled with the blanket.
“They would have had to register my DNA when I was born. They would have screened it.”
“Your mother’s lover is a terrorist. We don’t know how high he is on the top of the organization.” Kieran retorted.
“The club? I thought it was just a bunch of bigots that got drunk, and marched together.” Cait admitted.
She had been sheltered from the movement by her parents.
But perhaps that was because they would never have accepted somebody ‘like’ her in a Purifier meeting.
“They bomb, sabotage infrastructure and murder our kind.” Kieran said.
Cait raised her brows, she had heard alarms and talk of riots.
They did sabotage dome hardware.
But never about the bombings or death.
“I don’t understand why my mother would have approached an Omega, knowing the risks. She hated Omegas.”
“It seems that they were prepared for what you were born as. Or you would have died.” Kieran paused.
“You have heard of Beta-Dominants before. They are the offspring of an Omega and Beta. They are proto-Omegans that have not manifested the full physical aspects of being an omega.” Kieran took a breath.
She was paying attention.
“Your mother was a Beta-Dominant, but from a powerful family. Her name was Yvette Engel. Your maternal line is eccentric. Your grandfather does not like Betas. He’ll probably latch on to you, being an omega born from a Dominant.”
“We suspect her lover was a proto-Omegan too. Omegan’s cannot interbreed, the same goes with their offspring. The males tend to be infertile, if there is offspring, it’s rare and they usually fail to thrive. Dying out within a month or two after birth.”
‘Is that why the doctor wanted to run those extra tests?
I told him that both my parents were Beta-Dominants.’ Cait thought as she remembered her appointment before work.
“Your mother could have either been with a beta or an Omega. We suspect your mother was pushed into it by her lover. Judging by what happened when Yvette left.” Kieran said.
“What did she do?” Cait asked.
“Stabbed him in the chest with a vibro-blade.” Kieran answered.
‘Oh shit.’ Cait thought as her pulse quickened.
She carried her mother’s vibro-blade on her for self protection.
It was a gorgeous piece with a little butterfly engraved on it.
“Then they ran. Even after knowing you were an Omega, an heir to the family. It was the crime of the century. We think we know what his motives were.” Kieran cleared his throat, she was heavily scarred.
“Experimentation,
“This is a lot.” she said.
Cait’s fingers tightened on the silk.
The resentment she’d nurtured toward alphas curdled, redirected inward.
She wasn’t just an omega navigating a hostile world; she was its inheritor.
Power coiled beneath her skin, terrifying and intoxicating.
“Yeah, it is.” Kieran said with a defeated chuckle, he wiped his tears.
“Let’s take it slowly.”
“So our ‘Father’, he wants a relationship with me?” she asked, voice steadier than she felt.
It felt weird to have an older brother.
“Of course. Desperately.” Kieran pushed off the ledge, moving closer.
His scent, flowery, clean, and mingled with the antiseptic.
“He made a damn movie about how much he wanted her to come back.”
“Why?” Cait asked.
She knew her mother.
She vaguely remembered the Beta heroine from the movie, and her mother was nothing like that poor beautiful angel.
Her mother was a demon.
“He’s damaged, Cait. By your mother’s betrayal. He loved her, and she stabbed him in the chest one night, so she could flee him with you. It’s made him isolated, and possessive. Protective to an alarming degree.” He paused, choosing words with surgical care.
Cait had her own trauma to deal with.
She was sick, she had been pulled back from the brink.
But she still had at least one foot propping open death’s door.
She did not need to know about their family drama now.
About how Michael and Grandpa had to step in at points.
About their childhood.
“Oh so he did know her enough then.” Cait stated, almost matter of factly.
She and her father had a kinship of being fucked over and being betrayed by her mother.
How sweet.
“He’s here to meet you.” Kieran said with a stressed out sigh.
They had barely spoken, Albert went right after Owen.
Cait pulled her hand away from her brothers hand.
Kieran looked stunned as the calluses scraped his hands.
“He’s negotiating terms with Owen right now. Cohabitation. Support. He wants to take you home. Teach you what it means to be ‘this’ and one of us.” He gestured vaguely at her, encompassing the latent dominance humming beneath her exhaustion.
“And Owen wants me to do what?” Cait asked as she reached up to rub her eyes.
“He wants to follow us home and stay in your life.” Kieran smiled awkwardly.
He liked her character more and more.
She was like Martha.
“He’s a good guy. Trust me.”
“Okay ‘brother’. What is my say in all of this?” Cait asked.
She was put off that someone who she never met was negotiating with Owen, who was innocently brought into this mess and maybe a little clingy.
“Good, you have a back bone. It’ll help things.” Kieran’s grey eyes met hers, holding a flicker of genuine concern.
“So our Father is..” Cait started, but was interrupted again.
She rolled her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Kieran said, he continued.
‘He’s… intense.
But you’ll need to solidify your footing in this world.
Part of that is not being moved by the whims of others.
You have to have boundaries.
Find a way to put your foot down.” His gaze sharpened.
“Before you step into the Rose dynasty’s gilded cage. Owen is luckily a good person for that. You will come to find that, so rely on him. He is a good guy, he just makes an awful first impression.”
Cait frowned, the silk crumpling under her grip.
“Why? Why would he be ‘that’ protective? He does not even know me? Neither of them do.” The word felt alien, unwelcome.
Protection meant control, confinement from her experience.
Not going out or getting to make friends.
Going by different names.
She was not stupid.
Why would she want to walk into that willingly?
Kieran sighed, a soft exhalation that seemed to carry the weight of centuries.
“Because you are a unicorn to begin with, Cait. A female Omega. Even without your lineage. Your pheromones alone – you are in a hospital bed. They are special, like Dr.Jameson’s and like Fathers.” Kieran explained.
Her glands were scarred up as well.
When she was healed, it would be like smoke inside a burning inferno.
Thick.
“So what power do I even have, look at me. If I was so special would I end up in this bed?” Cait responded back, the visual hallucinations were back.
“You wouldn’t have known how to use them, from what we can tell it is not exactly a passive capability. When I found you, it felt like you were screaming for help through them.” Kieran responded, his nose catching a scent of confusion.
‘Holy shit.’ her eyes followed the swirls as they twisted in the air in front of her, the hallucination dancing.
“I’m guessing you saw the movie.” Kieran probed.
Kieran looked at her, her eyes were following something, as if she was distracted.
It was important she understood.
“Once, a long time ago.” Cait answered, “Down in the tunnel it is a cheesy movie.” Cait wondered if he knew how much they called Lord Rose pathetic.
Perhaps it was just because Breakwater was entrenched with Purifier families.
“It is a propaganda movie for us. Groups of Alphas across the planet have been hunting for the ‘Silver Rose’. For you, your entire life. It was also made to make negotiations easier with other nations. Father used your ghost as a bargaining chip since it was so improbable that you’d survive.” Kieran leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.
“What in the gods, so I owe others what?” the shock in her question made Kieran anxious.
He had to tell her so she knew what was waiting for her and what their father bet her life on.
Albert could deal with the shame later.
“You are expected to… broker and uphold alliances. Take multiple mates. Breed heirs. Ensure powerful bloodlines don’t clash over scarce resources – like other Omega females.” Kieran answered.
“So I am a tool of the nobility, like a prostitute.” Cait folded her arms in front of her as the bitter words spilled out.
This was insane.
“You are nobility.
Even I had obligations, once upon a time.
I suggest hanging Owen as your first mate.
He has more power than you think.
The pampering you’ll receive?
The lavish estates, armies of guards?
It’s a necessity.
Survival.
The life you knew among Betas?
It’s gone.
This is another world entirely, with new dangers.
He and I will protect you as much as possible.”
Cait recoiled, she recalled the holoporns.
So those were accurate, Omega women had harems and she would be expected to do that?
One ‘Henry’ was enough to manage.
Now she would have to deal with a pack of them.
“Gods.” she said.
The sterile air suddenly suffocating.
“Nobility, alliances, multiple mates? breeding? It is a bit much for me to accept right now.” The words tasted like vinegar.
“Being a non-noble female is harder with the Accords. You’ll learn more after you are better.”
She thought of Owen, flashes of his possessive intensity, the raw need in his eyes.
The thought of being shared… uncertainty churned with the lingering hunger.
“It’s unfair. No matter where I am, it’s always a disadvantage to be a woman.”
Kieran tilted his head, a flicker of sadness touching his lips.
“Consent is something you will have, I want you to remember that you can speak for yourself and make sure you don’t get pushed around. Female births are vanishingly rare. There is a reason why, that you will learn later. All I can tell you is that it is very necessary.”
“Why not now?” Cait asked, curious.
“It is a long story that Owen can tell better than I can.” Kieran explained.
“I just wanted you ready to face what is coming and our father. You are going through a lot. I don’t want you to be pushed into the mire because of the intense emotional upheaval that you are starting to go through.”
“Thanks.” Cait said, her face searching his.
He watched her absorb this, the stark reality settling like cold metal.
“Welcome to the chessboard, sister. The pieces are moving.”
“About Owen, I’m sorry I took him from you.” Cait said, her defensiveness dropping.
Kieran was warning her, and he gave up his mate for her.
“Don’t worry about it.” Kieran laughed.
“It is a relief to have you back. It was exhausting exchanging with Owen, and it is a weight off my shoulders that you somehow imprinted on him.” Kieran said, brushing his smoky gray hair back.
“Glad to have saddled this burden for you.” Cait mocked.
Cait managed a shaky breath, the panic subsiding slightly.
Her gaze sharpened, landing on Kieran.
“You and Owen? During his ruts? Do you…” Cait trailed off, unable to voice the question fully.
Kieran didn’t flinch.
“Sex?” He gave a short, dismissive huff.
“No. Not us. We exchange pheromones. You’ll learn more. It calms him, grounds him. Takes the edge off the frenzy. It is not necessary for males to mate. It can be done from gland to gland, it can be any part of the body. It hurts a little and you are prone to infections.” His expression remained utterly detached, analytical.
A low thrum vibrated through the floor, followed by the unmistakable scent of a very sour lemon and heavy tea scent hit the air, one familiar now, a controlled storm of Owen Thorne; the other, a raw, ancient fury that made Cait’s newly awakened omega instincts scream in primal recognition.
“They are here, aren’t they?”
Kieran looked at the blower that was supposed to be forcing only traverse air in.
She needed the pheromones or she would get sicker.
The room was air tight.
Was it on his clothes?
“Good nose.”
Kieran was certain she would get the compliment eventually, she had a lot of information to absorb and he did not want to overwhelm her.
They should probably wait until after she is home and healed to bother educating her.
Cait titled her head “Thanks?” her dark grey brow lifted curiously.
Omie’s were weirder than she was taught.
She was one now.
She should probably quit it with the slurs in her own head.
She wondered what was going to happen with her next.
Would she still be named Cait?
She had been living a dead girl’s life, her mother sure as hell did not name her Cait.
Some other mother who loved their child named her daughter ‘Caitlin Agneau’, then someone stole their lives away from them.
“I will get the doctor. You look pale.” Kieran said.
He watched her eyes tracking something.