Chapter Thirty-Three Davos

Sinclair has always enjoyed his briefings. He and Lynter are the only ones who call us all together in this way and, while I believe Lynter does it out of duty, I suspect Sinclair genuinely cherishes the chance to lecture us.

On the rare occasions that Lynter talks to us like this, he is always brief and to the point. Often he has another person there to do most of the talking, such as builders to let us know some part of the castle needs repairs, or a herbalist from the local town to let us know that certain plants were being over-harvested. My second almost always has a solution in mind before he even calls us together, and I suspect he only does it to make the local people feel heard.

Personally, I'd rather go from person to person, let them know what is needed, and get separate reactions. However, the result is much the same.

Sinclair never brings in experts, and he never expects us to offer him assistance. He lectures, as if we are children, sometimes drawing out his briefings for candles. Yet within his rambles are usually kernels of truth I need to keep everyone safe, so I endure it. And if I have to endure it, I expect the rest of my pack must as well.

Not gracefully, however, which is why we are all grumbling as we gather in the small study room, off the library. All the tables have been pushed together in the center of the room and Sinclair stands at the back, next to a chalk board, looking like the grumpy professor he obviously wishes he could be.

"I'll get right to the point," Sinclair said as we all settled into our chairs. Lynter scoffed, and Sinclair shot him a dirty look, but otherwise ignored him.

"You've all been spending time with the omega," Sinclair said. "That's very good. Keep doing that."

He paused so long that Cantor stirred and asked, "Is that all?" The lanky alpha made as if to rise and depart.

"No," snapped Sinclair, and Cantor gave a heavy sigh and dropped back into his seat.

"I want to explain what I've learned about true bonds and scent matches," Sinclair continued, lowering his voice. We were still trying to keep the fact that the omega was our scent match a secret.

"And how we can move forward."

His voice is so strained that we all fall completely silent. For the first time since entering the room, I took a good look at my mage. He's exhausted to the point of sickness. His face is palid, with dark shadows rimming his eyes, and his hand seemed to shake as it stroked one of the books on the table near him. Frowning, I brushed my consciousness over his space in the bond but, as usual, he has shut me out entirely, leaving only a smooth blankness where he should be. Annoyed all over again that he continued to deprive me of a tool to help him, I opened my mouth to demand that he tell me what is bothering him. Unfortunately, he spoke first.

"True bonds are similar to bitten bonds," Sinclair said. "They start out differently, but they are finalized with a bite, just the same. True bonds, however, are permanent, while bitten bonds fade more or less quickly over time."

Leaning forward, I decide I'll ask him about his sickly state later. Is this possible? No wonder true bonds were spoken of with such reverence. A bond that doesn't have to be renewed would be far, far safer for the omega, and make it all but impossible to take her from us. An ordinary bitten bond was easily broken, given enough time. She could only be compelled to do what was within her own power, after all, and if she were locked up somewhere and unable to escape and return to her alphas, eventually the bond would fade and a fresh one would replace it. A permanent bond would reduce that risk considerably. She could be bound to us forever .

"True bonds need a real emotional connection." Sinclair appeared to grind his teeth as he spoke, but his voice had become smooth, betraying no emotion. "One that goes both ways. The omega and the alpha need to be properly scent matched, also both ways."

Bastian put up his hand, as if we really were in school, and Sinclair nodded to him.

"What do you mean, both ways? A scent match is a scent match."

Sinclair shook his head, lips pressed tightly.

"No, I believe that's yet another piece of propaganda." He sighed and paced a few steps around the tables, then back again to the front. "The king has made it sound very simple. Like a scent match is somehow fated and perfect. Like it equals instant true love."

To my surprise, Cantor made a happy sound of agreement.

"Like Rosemary," he said, softly, almost as if talking to himself. "She's just perfect."

"No," snapped Sinclair again, and Bastian growled at him in warning as Cantor flinched back.

"My point is that it doesn't work like that," Sinclair said, glaring at Bastian and Cantor. "A scent match has at least two components. One of them is of the body, the other is of the… the mind. Or the spirit. The body component is the easy part. If the lead alpha of a mongrel pack and the omega in question are very highly physically compatible, then the whole pack will scent the omega as their scent match."

My eyes widened and my packmates murmured and glanced at me. I hadn't really thought very hard about what a scent match meant, aside from knowing that a pack bonded to a scent matched omega became more powerful than one that wasn't.

So being a mongrel pack was a good thing for once. I had always thought that choosing my pack through instinct had enraged my father because he wanted the opportunity to build alliances by inserting noblemen into my pack, like a beta might marry off daughters to the highest bidder. I guessed there was more to it.

"That's good though," I said. "She seems to get along with all of you. Even if I'm the real scent match, I'm sure everything will work out." They all looked at me and I was surprised to see that Cantor and Bastian, in particular, seemed to be angry. I checked the bond, and as always Cantor wasn't being subtle. He was furious.

Huh.

"I just said that was the easy part," Sinclair said and he rolled his eyes, as if I were the one being angry for no reason. "The whole pack has felt the draw of our scent match. However, some of us have had far stronger reactions than others, and that speaks to emotional compatibility." He flicked his gaze over Cantor, Bastian and, to my surprise, Lynter as well.

"Scents don't change, but your reaction to them does. Even without a physical scent match, if someone changes over time to become more compatible with you, or more… beloved to you, you will come to like their scent more and more. I call that the emotional component." He stopped and drew two overlapping circles on his chalk board, then tapped the center of the shape they created together. "You need both physical and emotional compatibility to form a true bond."

My father had always spoken about scent matches as if they were irrefutable, immutable. You had one scent match, and if you found it then you should count yourself very fortunate. If you did not, then too bad.

The idea that you could change over time and become more or less suited for someone… Or that you could suit someone but they might not suit you. I felt sweat break out on my forehead as I wondered for the first time what I smelled like to the little omega.

I had tried to bond her against her will. I suspected I didn't exactly smell of safety. Whether or not my motives had been pure suddenly seemed less important than it had been at the time.

Sinclair didn't stop long for us to absorb the new information, but plunged on.

"A compatible alpha and omega will start to grow a bond together without a bite, if they spend time together…" He shot a significant, judging look at me. "And if there are no bitten bonds on the omega to interfere with the process. Any bitten bonds will wipe away nascent true bonds before they can be sealed."

"Most importantly, a true bond is the whole point of scent matching. Bitten bonds will provide almost the same amount of power to the pack, whether the omega is a scent match or not. The fabled massive increase in magical power is due to the ability to true bond, not due to the scent match alone."

Outraged mutterings broke out among the pack as we all processed that. My father, and his father, had told everyone a lie on top of a lie. Even of you did find a scent match, the vast majority of the country believed bitten bonds were the only method to bind an omega. The easiest way to claim and protect an omega, ensuring that any secondary biters would be vulnerable to the first and superior bite. Any subsequent biters would be forced to obey the first. It wasn't something I took advantage of in our own ring bond, of course, but the possibility was there.

"A true bond is mutual," Sinclair continued, ignoring us. "And there is no superior bite. Once someone has a true bond, they cannot be compelled by a bitten bond."

Lynter whistled. "No wonder the king wants to hide this."

Sinclair nodded, his face blank. If what he said was true, it might take away a huge amount of power from the throne. Currently the king only had to control the leader of a pack to control the whole pack. Most of his influence wasn't that blatant, but he certainly wasn't above using the power of bitten bonds when he felt it necessary. If a true bond protected the alphas from being bitten, as much as the omega…

"Most importantly," Sinclair said, then paused and swallowed hard, as if reluctant to continue. "With a true bond… with a true bond, magic isn't only enhanced. It's blended together into a single stream of power. A stream which the omega can control."

Our mage nodded at Bastian who had gasped.

"Yes," he said. "You saw it that day in the forest. According to the texts I have found, true bonds among an omega and multiple alphas would increase their magical power exponentially."

I leaned forward, eagerly catching Sinclair's eye.

"With that kind of power, you'd be able to stand up to the Gorgon Pack mages?"

His eyebrows drew together and a flash of strong emotion ripped across his face, so quickly I wasn't sure I saw it.

"I wouldn't," he gritted out. " My magic would increase in power somewhat as well, but it's the omega who would be able to wield it together."

Startled murmurs broke out around the room again.

"But… but she has no training," Lynter said.

"She said she only knows household magic," I added. Then winced and wondered out loud, "besides, how is this going to work? She's terrified of me."

Cantor, usually as sweet and docile as one of his many animal charges, caught my eye and glared at me again. I knew he was mad, but hadn't expected the rawness of violence on his face. Bastian glanced at me too, less raw but no less angry. Even Lynter seemed unhappy, although he would never express it so openly in front of the others.

"I'll apologize," I said, my heart falling.

"Do more than that," Bastian advised.

"Ask what she wants from you first though," Cantor added.

"Treat her like she's one of us, Davos," Lynter said. "Because she is ."

I stared at my packmates, astonished. They'd known this omega all of a week, and they all seemed to be siding with her over me, their brother and packlead.

Sinclair had an almost sour twist to his mouth as he commented, "the true bonds are settling already. Better hurry it up, Davos."

He returned to his topic, telling us everything he'd found out, including how the bite that sealed a true bond should happen spontaneously when the omega was in heat and being knotted by the alpha. That both alpha and omega would be irresistibly compelled to bite if the conditions were right. That the bond would nourish itself with love and care (he seemed to almost spit out those words) and only grow stronger over time.

"Uhh…" Bastian stuck up his hand again and Sinclair rolled his eyes.

"Just say it directly, Bastian."

"Rosemary had a small heat spike yesterday. She told us she's never had a heat before, but it's possible one is coming soon. She seemed to go back to normal after we…" His cheeks darkened and he glanced at Cantor.

For some reason, that glance made my hands bunch into fists.

Sinclair swore and made a move as if to consult his books, then stopped himself and seemed to calculate something in his head.

"If it's her first heat, she might have it tomorrow or three weeks from now," he said, stiffly. "And the gods only know how tgat spellstone will interfere. After her first one, they should be more regular, but the next one will probably be around three months after the first. So if we want her to true bond with anyone soon, to help make her safe, you all need to… to charm the underclothes off that omega."

"But we're nowhere close to that," I protested, only to notice the tips of Cantor's ears burn red as Bastian cleared his throat.

"Some of us are closer than others," he murmured. "But I will not force a bond on the girl no matter what."

"We are all as close as I am," I insisted. "No one can bond her before me."

"Didn't either of you listen to a word I said?" Sinclair growled. "You can't true bond her anyway, unless its mutual," he said to Bastian. "There's no need for all your posturing morality. And you," he returned to me, "what part of ‘it supercedes all other bonds' don't you understand? It doesn't matter the order of the bonds. A true bond doesn't accept previous bites as superior. No true bond is superior to others." He paused and the tension in his face crystalized as he considered something. "Although if someone tried to form a bitten bond afterward they might be subject to the true bond. I'm not sure if the bitten bond would form at all in that case. It certainly wouldn't compel the omega."

A quiet growl forms in my throat as I consider what he's saying. Why does it have to be so complicated? Bitten bonds are so much easier. First bite makes right.

However, it seemed as though, if the omega hates me, I may never be able to bond with her. In that case I would have a choice between allowing the others to true bond and disrupt my status as packlead, or forbidding any of them from forming bonds with her at all.

My growl grows louder. I don't like either of those options.

"The ten day deadline is still in place," Sinclair said, wearily. "No one can bond her before then anyway. We will just have to hope that something changes before then."

They all turned in their seats and looked at me, judgment heavy in their eyes.

Unable to stand it, I stormed out of the room.