It was not often that Thane felt nervous. The emotion had been trained out of him long ago—replaced with discipline, composure, control. Yet now it prowled beneath his skin like a restless beast. He had assumed such weakness would never return. But since laying eyes on his firefly, everything had changed.
Celeste.
The way the world shifted around her presence unsettled him. In his heart he knew—knew—she belonged to him. Perhaps even more than that: perhaps she was his Mate. The pull between them felt too raw, too consuming to be chance. But claiming her carried risk. A mark given to the wrong woman could kill her. Or worse—leave her breathing but broken, mindless. Could he chance that, all on a feeling?
He wanted to woo her, to give her time. She had endured too much too quickly: betrayal, captivity, the auction block. Now she lived inside a gilded cage she had not chosen. And though he told himself it was for her protection, part of him knew she was still a prisoner.
And the world had already noticed. Word of the Omega spread like fire on dry grass. Kings would come, emissaries too—each with hungry eyes and open purses. For them, she was not Celeste. She was prize, weapon, womb. Concubines were often traded or offered as gifts to curry favor. If the world believed she was only another in his harem, they would try to buy her from him. Some would try to steal her. And Thane would fight them.
War, his instincts whispered. She will bring war.
Unless he made her Queen.
It would lift her above concubine status, shield her from being treated as a bargaining chip. No man would dare demand an Empress be shared. But his mother was right—crowning an Omega would only draw more danger, paint a brighter target on her back. And his harem… the vipers were already restless. He had ignored them too long. Favoring one woman, especially Celeste, would make them vicious.
Thane's hand tightened on the desk until the wood creaked. No choice was clean. No path was safe. With a snarl he swept his arm across the surface, papers and ink scattering across the floor. "Fuck."
A knock sounded. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Come in."
Jubal entered, bowing low. His eyes flicked over the mess, one brow rising. "Your Grace." His voice was mild, though his lips twitched. "A letter for you."
Thane let out a humorless laugh. "Just what I needed."
"More than one, actually." Jubal set a neat stack before him.
"Fuck me," Thane muttered again, harsher this time.
Jubal smirked. "Bit tricky, but I'm sure we could work around it."
Despite himself, Thane huffed out a laugh. Leave it to Jubal, head eunuch and oldest friend, to find humor even here. For a breath, the storm inside him calmed.
He picked up the first letter. His jaw tightened. "Great. The kings of every neighboring realm want to pay a visit. To see the Omega." His fist hit the wood with a sharp crack. "I've had her here a few days, and already they circle like vultures. How am I supposed to win her trust, her affection, if I'm forced into a corner before I've even begun?"
Jubal's smile faded, replaced with quiet steel. "Forgive my boldness, but I speak as your friend. You have a good heart, Thane, but you cannot lead with it here. You hold what every Alpha king craves. You must think with your head."
Thane raked a hand through his hair. "I know. I just… none of these choices will please her."
Jubal rested a hand on his shoulder. "You are not your father, but you are his son. He made hard decisions, and so must you. You have already won the hearts of your people. You can win hers too."
The words struck deep. Thane breathed slow, grounding himself. "Thank you," he said at last. "Truly. I would be lost without your counsel."
Then silence, heavy but clarifying. Thane straightened. "Send word to the kings of the neighboring realms. I will host a feast in their honor. Let them see the Omega with their own eyes."
Jubal hesitated, then bowed. "Yes, Your Grace." He left, the door closing softly behind him.
Thane stared down at the stack of letters, heart hammering. He had made his choice.
Now he would discover whether he could live with the consequences—and whether Celeste could ever forgive them.