Chapter Thirty-Nine Davos

The little omega seemed to be stunned by my admission. In truth, I was a little bit stunned as well. I don't know if I've ever openly admitted before that I wanted to dethrone my father. That my every action, every thought and anxiety for the last ten years, was devoted to becoming a better king than Raksim had had for the last three or more generations.

It had become second nature to hide it, even though what I had just said was an open secret. Even beggars in Lutin knew about my ambitions.

My father most certainly did.

It wasn't like this girl could snitch on me to the king anyway. Still, it somehow felt blasphemous to say the words aloud.

"I don't understand," the omega admitted. "What has that got to do with me?"

Sinclair had told me that she was intelligent, but it was fascinating to witness the way she peered at me, the cogs of her mind ticking away behind her beautiful, clear gray eyes. No wonder Cantor and Bastian were delirious over this girl. Even Lynter, my stiff and proper younger brother, seemed drawn to her.

I don't know that I had really believed what Sinclair had told us about true bonds until I felt it myself. The tug and echo of her inexplicable pain and fear when we had stopped at the blacksmith. I had felt it distantly through my own bond with Cantor. Most of the pack kept our connections tightly closed the majority of the time, but a faint prickle of dismay from Bastian made me suspect he had also felt her strange pain.

If Cantor hadn't been following us so closely, Bastian would have hunted us down to soothe the omega's anguish himself. She drew my packmates in like moths to a candle.

Even now, my clingiest pack brother was still following us, in spite of my chiding. He was hiding in the trees, just far enough away that she wouldn't easily spot him, but I knew he was there. I could feel the radiance of his adoration for this tiny woman, a pulsing heat under my skin.

They were bonding with her. And I was not.

"My father is not a good man," I told her. "He has never been a good king." I stretched out my legs and let my head fall back, wishing we were in the sun rather than under the shadows of the pine forest. I hardly ever get to just sit and enjoy the sunshine.

"My recent ancestors realized there was a lot of power in packs. They concentrate wealth among a few, and they are inherently stable groups, especially once they find their omega. More than once an alliance between powerful packs has brought down corrupt monarchs." I dug my heels into the loam, beneath the thin layer of pine needles. The scent of dark earth rose, so like Sinclair's scent I almost turned my head to see if he was nearby.

"It's happened here, and frequently happens in other countries across the seas. So my ancestors decided the best thing to do would be to remove the pack system altogether. Just like they did in Lutin." Her eyes widened and her lips parted as if she would say something, but then they snapped shut again. I took that as permission to continue.

"My ancestors have been eroding the pack structure on purpose for decades now, destroying information on bonds, killing or imprisoning alphas, and securing omegas so that they became a rare treasure, only doled out for good behavior." She scowled and I shrugged, but took note of her reaction.

"Unfortunately for them," I continued, "there was an issue that slowed down their plan. One they couldn't seem to overcome without people rioting in the streets, no matter how slowly and gently they removed other privileges. Can you guess what that was?"

She flattened her lips, but shook her head. I laughed.

"Hot showers."

"Hot showers ?" She repeated slowly.

"That's right, little omega." I winked at her. I decided at that moment to collect her reactions. I wished I'd started earlier. Her face was so expressive, I already knew my collection would be vast. Perhaps infinite. She was making a particularly good one in response to my wink. The faintest hint of a sneer, with an undertone of uncertainty.

"I'm sure you've learned from Sinclair that it's extremely difficult for most people to cast two spells at once. It doesn't matter how much power you have, it's impossible to do it without a lot of practice- unless you're a prodigy like Sinclair." Magic wasn't my field of expertise, but it did factor highly into what made our pack so powerful, so I knew enough. Sinclair was our ability to rise from the ashes. Without him, we'd be Pack Sitting Duck.

"It's also very difficult to pool power. Most spellcasters are on their own." She nods, her face now solemn. I realized I didn't know how old she was. Probably not much older or younger than her brother, but her face was the kind that looks 25 forever. Smooth skin, lightly freckled, mostly around her eyes, and a nose that might seem slightly too fleshy for a girl, if not for her enormous eyes. There was nothing contrived about this woman, no plucked brows or painted lips. I could tell, objectively, that she wasn't the most beautiful woman in the world. Somehow, though, that was the word that sprang to mind whenever her lips pinched, or her brows lifted, or her imperfect nose wrinkled at my words. Beautiful.

Realizing that I had been staring for a flick too long, I cleared my throat. "I'm sure you know that betas are usually the strongest spell casters. What you might not know is that alphas who have bonded to an omega can be even stronger. We know they used to be able to pool power as well. They had ways of casting spells together, the way Sinclair can do it alone, so that two or three or even more spells could be combined." I sighed. "My grandfather, in particular, was extremely rabid about burning books. A lot of the information on how packs cast magic together was lost. We do know that, in the capital, they used systems of pipes to run hot and cold water into homes, powered by special engineer mages, all of whom were from packs. Hot showers were only one of the many little conveniences they made possible."

She was gaping at me. "I thought, before they invented spellstones it was just… I mean, in my village, the elders talk about the time before spellstones as being utterly primitive." She scrunched up her nose. Oh, that was a good one. I wished I knew someone who could paint her expression for me.

"Not that it's much better now," she muttered. "We couldn't really afford them."

I took note of that too. I'd known she was poor, but that small lift of her lip told me she was also ashamed of it. Very expensive courting gifts might not be the right call, then. I'd have to ask Sinclair. Gods knew, both he and Cantor grew up in poverty, but only one of them really understood what it was like to be ashamed of it.

"Every time a pack retired from a public job, the people expected a new pack to take their place immediately. Alphas, betas, omegas… everyone agreed that hot showers were of utmost importance." I grinned at her and saw the slightest twitch at the corner of her mouth. I'd take it.

"If the king at that time had tried to remove omegas from packs, or packs themselves, he would have found himself without a throne very quickly. But then… spellstones." I twinkled my fingers and watched her face, but this time she held it still. No matter. I'll collect that look too.

"As you know, about forty years ago we discovered a way to carve certain gemstones so they could be used as a conduit for magic. Skilled carvers could add two spells or more, with no need to cast them. Suddenly, you didn't need water from a central location. You could power your own bathroom at home with a tiny surge of magic. Even a child could do it."

Her eyes grew even more solemn as she contemplated the consequences of our modern technology.

"It's saved a lot of lives," she ventured. "Almost no one could heal with magic before, but even my village had a spellstone for that." She cocked her head in thought. "It wasn't as good as Sinclair is just by himself, but it was better than nothing."

I force myself to keep my eyes from her scarred ankle, to keep them from darting up to her throat. Yes, she knew firsthand just how good Sinclair could be with healing, just as she obviously also knew just how pitiful a cheap spellstone could be. Lynter had told me about her ankle. In fact, he had ranted for at least half a candle. I had wondered how it was possible that she could have such terrible scars when healing spellstones were so commonly available now.

My own kingdom would only be the first place to change, I swore to myself. Lutin would be next.

"Spellstones aren't evil by any means," I agreed, forcing my voice to stay light. "However, their existence gave my grandfather the tool he needed. He flooded the market as quickly as possible, and made sure every household had a dozen of the things. After that it was just a matter of declaring omegas vulnerable and in need of royal protection." I chuckled, but with little humor in the sound. "My father doesn't bother to keep up that pretense. The bounty is enough to ensure compliance. So few people these days have even seen an omega, they seem like mythical creatures." I leaned forward and took her hand. It lay limply in my own, but she didn't pull away, which was more than I expected.

"The king overtaxes the people of Raksim, and murders anyone who even thinks to oppose him. In some ways he's worse than the absolute tyrant my grandfather was. My grandfather at least feared the people enough to try and control them. There was very little crime in his day and he kept poverty levels low, so they would be content." I shook my head. "My father, however, is a weak and self indulgent king. He doesn't care a fig for anyone except himself, and he sees himself as all powerful. People are suffering . I have to take the throne."

It felt good to say it out loud and so plainly. Of course I had spoken often of my plans with my pack brothers, but we had no need to repeat what we already knew.

It helped to simply declare out loud that the system needed to change, rather than harp on the minutia of how it might be done.

"He… he was known in my country as a tyrant," the omega ventured. "I was told if he bought me he would… he would use me as a reward for his loyal packs."

I shook my head. "In fact, we believe the majority of his omegas are simply left in The Nest." At the puzzled tilt of her eyebrow, I expanded. "It's a special dungeon he has just for omegas." I supposed if she didn't know that already, Bastian hadn't told her about his childhood. I wondered if he would. "The king doesn't want packs to bond with omegas. He doesn't really want packs to exist at all." I paused to consider that, and then added. "Except for the royal pack."

"Aren't you a royal pack?"

I grimaced. "In theory. But I was supposed to join Pack Gorgon, like all the other princes did. If Lynter and Carlile hadn't trusted me, or if Sinclair wasn't a genius, we'd have all been swallowed into that monstrosity of a pack."

It made me sick to think how close it had been. If I hadn't already bonded with Lynter, if Bastian hadn't still had friends in the palace, if Sinclair had been just a little bit less competent… There was a reason we stayed away from the capital and habitually kept our bonds fresh and strong. So far the king hadn't tried an outright assault on us, but I had no delusions about our chances if he did.

If he somehow learned we had found a scent match, I suspected an attack wouldn't be far behind. I contemplated the omega in front of me, a little wrinkle between her eyes as she considered everything I'd said. Her hand was somehow still in mine and I found myself stroking her palm with my fingertip. Was this the point where I told her we were scent-matched? Did she know already? That seemed like a much more dangerous secret to say aloud.

She looked up and realized I was staring at her. Just like that, her small, sweet hand was pulled from my grasp. I had to force myself not to clutch at it.

It was definitely not the right time yet. Saying those words aloud was more dangerous than openly planning a coup. The king knew he was safe from me as long as my pack were just a bunch of alphas bonded together. We didn't truly become a threat until we outshone our brother pack, and the lens through which our power would shine was our omega.

"A bonded omega provides immense energy and cohesion to a pack. I believed when I found you that I finally had a way to defeat the king. If my father knew I had found you…"

"But, why me ?"

I shrugged, carefully nonchalant. "Why not you? We needed a female omega who would accept everyone in the pack. You were already friendly with Bastian and Cantor, even as a beta. We all found your scent… appealing." I had to bite down a snort. Appealing . It was all I could do not to bury my nose in her neck every time I saw her. It wasn't only for the sake of discretion that I had asked Bastian to make sure her scent was hidden today.

"So… your other reason is power?" Her face was carefully blank.

I nodded. Clever omega. "Yes. Power. The power to free all the omegas the king has imprisoned. The power to protect the ones that are snatched away from their homes by desperate packs. The power to feed and shelter all of the people of Raksim." I fisted my hands and dug my heel harder in the dirt. The omega kept her eyes on mine, seemingly ignoring my tension.

"This country is on the verge of collapse, and if my older brother inherits the crown the situation will only get worse. I need every advantage. Sinclair may be a magical genius but he's surprisingly weak in terms of absolute power. If he could be made stronger…"

I sighed and shifted on the log. I hadn't meant for this to become such a long lecture.

"What was the other reason?" She asked, softly. "The smaller one."

I grinned at her, happy she was following my words so closely. "Smaller, but no less important. My packmates are utterly enamored with you, little omega. Cantor would fill my bed with pig dung if I let you leave. Then he'd follow you anyway."

She gave a startled, reluctant giggle. "Pig dung?"

"He's done it before," I muttered darkly, rewarded by another bright chirp of laughter.

"What did you think of my reasons, little omega?"

She leaned forward and had opened her mouth to reply, when we both caught the unmistakable scent of woodsmoke.

Whipping my head around, I searched the trees for flames. There wasn't enough wind for that whiff of ash to have come all the way from the blacksmith, but perhaps someone was utilizing a bonfire nearby…

Carlile crashed through the trees a moment later, gasping and sooty. Cantor appeared almost immediately after, and took the omega's hand.

"Fire northwest of here," Carlile gasped. "I tried to extinguish it on my own. Too big already. Heading for the mill."

I swore and started off in the direction he indicated.

"Cantor come with me, we'll need you to tend to any injuries. Carlile, go get Sinclair, quick as you can."

My little brother beckoned the omega. "I'll take Rosemary back to the castle."

"Fine," I said. "Get Sinclair and meet us at the blaze."

Cantor glanced between me and the omega and for a moment I wondered if he would defy me. Then, he gave her a little shove towards Carlile and turned to me. My mind was already rushing through what needed to be done, when the girl snapped "No!"

"Omega, we don't have time…"

"I can help," she interrupted me. "Is there any water nearby?"

Cantor nodded at her. "On the way to the mill. A stream."

"Alright," she said and squared her shoulders, staring me down.

This. This look was my favorite so far.

"I'm going with you," she insisted, her eyes blazing, daring me to say no. "I can help pick up water on the way. Sinclair's been teaching me how to carry things."

My first instinct was to refuse. It wasn't that she was a girl, or a guest, or even weak with magic.

No, it was that she was an omega. My omega. I didn't want her anywhere near a fire.

Unfortunately, even more than that, I didn't want the fires in her eyes to go out.

"Fine," I said, knowing every second we stood here debating could be another dozen trees in flames. "But you must stay far back. Cantor is responsible for your safety."

I turned to my brother, who was gaping at us. "Carlile, go! Run!"

He snapped into action, taking off in a gallop as if I'd kicked him.

We hurried northwest, the smoke thickening to an almost unbearable density as we jogged across the forest. The girl muttered something and suddenly the air in front of us was tinged purple and green, and her omega scent burst into the air. The spellstone had failed, which was hardly a surprise given her agitation.

Cantor was still holding her hand, and the purple and green glow surrounding us enthralled me. Our omega was combining her magic with Cantor's in order to keep the smoke away from us. The green was Cantor's leafy shade, and her own magic was speckling it, like a bed of violets. I glanced back at her, wondering if she understood the significance.

She frowned a bit, but didn't say anything as we strode between the trees.

Once we reached the stream, which was about two strides across and perhaps a foot deep in the middle, she took some moments to gather up water, using a modified force spell. Sweat dripped from her brow, and her skin had flushed pink, but she didn't complain. My own magic was the weakest of the three of us, even without the bond between them, so I took over keeping the air clear with my own ruddy light. With Cantor's added magical strength, the omega managed to lift a large pool of water over our heads. Curious, I directed Cantor to attempt the same. His own magic flowed out from his hand, and seemed to be around his normal strength. Would it be stronger if she wasn't using some of it, or had an incomplete bond not increased his power yet? Perhaps her ability to channel his magic without decreasing it at the source was the increase. I resolved to talk to Sinclair about it, but now was not the moment for experiments.

Gritting her teeth, the omega trotted after me, still clutching Cantor's hand in her own, with the other raised to direct the stream of magic that encased the water. She tried at first to direct it around the trees, but quickly realized it was slowing us down too much and simply let the trunks pass through the water. I felt an unexpected burst of pride at her determination. She looked exhausted, but she kept up with us, not saying a word.

We heard the crackling flames before we saw them, and I made sure to circle around the fire. It had rained the night before, and the forest was damp, but our local mill was still only a few paces from disaster. It had been built on the edge of town, close to the forest, so the creaking of the great blades in the wind didn't bother the neighbors. Too bad it wasn't a water mill.

There seemed to be multiple small blazes, which struck me as odd considering there was very little wind. The miller had a small orchard which was unfortunately pressed right between the pine forest, and the mill itself. He was particularly proud of his plums, and always included a basket of the fruit when I collected the autumn taxes.

He was out there now, along with his family and workers, hauling buckets of water from their well. One of them was a relatively strong magic user who was directing a small, thin stream of water at the fire. They were holding the flames at bay, but just barely. One spark in the wrong place and the old plum trees would go up in smoke, with the mill following shortly after.

Rosemary had flinched when we broke the treeline and had seen the full extent of the crisis. The heat of the flames struck us even through the force barrier I was still using to clear the smoke. The miller and his family had no such barrier and I knew Cantor would be busy treating their smoke inhalation for days. The people worked grimly, passing along buckets and bowls from the well, which was in the center of the orchard. However, the pulley was old and even though it was powered by a spellstone, it moved slowly, delivering each load of water with an aching, drawn out pause between them.

I kept up my own force spell as we dashed forward, extending it as far as my weak magic could go. My family was not known for their magical prowess, and I suspected my magical limits were close to what my omega could do without a bond. It rarely bothered me, but then I usually had Sinclair nearby to do something clever on my behalf.

The youngest members of the miller's family, including their 9 year old daughter, were clustered closer to the well, and I made sure my barrier covered them, even as I grabbed my omega around the waist and forced her to stop once we reached the well. She glared at me, obviously determined to march right up to the flames and burn her precious face.

I wasn't a good mage, but Sinclair had made sure all of us could do the basics. I made the gesture that would end the force spell with the biggest push out that I could manage, hoping it would keep the smoke away for a few moments.

Then, carefully, I funneled a thick stream of water from the reservoir that floated over our heads towards the flames. I directed the flow over the fire, carefully judging how much water was needed each time to saturate the ground and drive the flames back. Drawing it down from water held over my head was much easier than pulling it up from a well.

The workers cheered and renewed their own efforts. Cantor added his own water to the omega's lot once hers had reduced enough for her to comfortably carry it, and began to help the other magic user, pulling up water from the well and moving it towards where he stood halfway across the orchard. Their stream was much thinner than what I was directing, as the well had already been almost dry. The miller had complained about it last time we spoke. I would need to ask Sinclair to dig it deeper or find a new source of water once this was over.

Another task for my list.

By the time the water above us was gone, the smoke had returned in earnest, worse now that the fires were smoldering, and my omega was beginning to cough. I pushed back the sooty air, determined to insist that she and the children retreat even further, when Sinclair finally arrived in a clatter of hooves. His horse was damp with sweat and he was only half-dressed, in breeches and an open jacket, so I guessed Carlile had found him at the training yard. My mage took quick stock of the situation, then dismounted and ran forward, ignoring the well, and began to draw water from the ground itself. He combined that with a force spell around the flames, starving them of air and removing the source of smoke at the same time.

Show off.

I heaved a sigh and turned to find the omega staring at me. I had spent the day trying to learn what each expression that crossed her face might mean, and yet I still had no idea what she was thinking.

What had she thought of my reasons for keeping her? I wished I'd had the chance to find out.