Her facade cracks, lips curving into a smile that makes my heart flip in my chest. Then she leans down, nose brushing the curve of my neck, my Beta inhaling deeply. When her tongue drags up the side of my throat in one long, claiming stroke, my knees go weak and I have to force myself to stay upright.
"I hate all that fake grief," I say when I can form words again, my voice coming out breathier than I intend. "Everyone acts like it is this great noble sacrifice, all these Alphas going off to risk their lives for my hand. And they just keep going. They just keep dying. And my father just keeps sending more."
Solace pulls back enough to meet my eyes, her hands settling on my hips. "He believes he will eventually find one strong enough to succeed."
"He believes the dragon gold will solve all his problems." I step out of her embrace and cross to my bed, where the small leather sheath holding my mother's dagger rests on top of the pillows. I pick it up, the worn leather soft beneath my fingers, the weight of the blade comforting where everything else isn’t.
An idea has been forming in the back of my mind for weeks now, growing bolder with each funeral, each feast, each empty promise from my father's lips. It’s a horrid idea but it’s there, nagging at the edge of my brain, demanding to get out.
I turn back to Solace, holding the sheathed dagger against my chest. She watches me with one elegant eyebrow raised, her expression somewhere between amused and wary. "I know that look," she says. "It means I am going to get in trouble if I do not keep my eyes on you."
I cannot help the smile that forms on my face. She knows me too well. "My father keeps saying that whoever brings back a dragon's head gets my hand in marriage."
"Yes." Solace crosses the room in three graceful strides, reaching out to pull me close again. One hand slides into my hairwhile the other cups my cheek, her touch grounding even as my heart races. "What is going on in that head of yours?"
I meet her luminous dark eyes and let the words spill out. "He has never put any other stipulations on it. Why do I keep waiting for everyone else to do this? I am going to get that dragon's head." Solace opens her mouth, and I rush on before she can speak. "If you are going to say something about me being an Omega..."
"I was going to say that it seems like a dangerous trek," she interrupts gently. Her thumb strokes across my cheekbone, the calm intensity in her gaze never wavering. "But if that is what you want to do, then you know I will be right by your side." Relief and love crash through me in equal measure but something else flickers across her face, something more cautious, and I tense. "However," she continues, and there is that careful tone that means she is about to say something I will not want to hear, "at some point, you will need an Alpha. You have been able to stave off your first heat this long, but the medicines will not work forever."
I have been taking the suppressants since my twenty-first birthday, the age when most Omegas experience their first heat as is customary until a royal Omega can spend it with their chosen Alpha. But the palace physician has warned me that the herbs can only delay the inevitable for so long. Eventually, my body will demand what nature intended, and when that happens, I will need an Alpha's knot to ease the burning need and make the pain bearable.
The thought of being at the mercy of some Alpha my father chooses makes me want to claw my way out of my own skin.
"After I bring back the dragon, it will bemykingdom," I say fiercely, stepping closer until our bodies press together from chest to hip. "So I can then choose my own Alpha rather than accepting whichever one my father places in front of me."
Solace laughs softly as she leans down to brush her lips against mine. "My beautiful, fierce princess."
I cling to her, fingers curling into the fabric of her jacket after I drop the dagger to the mattress, and kiss her back with all the desperate longing that has been building inside me throughout that feast. She tastes like mint and something indefinably her, and when she pulls me tighter against her body, I forget about dragon heads and dead soldiers and my father's greed. There is only this: her mouth on mine, her hands steadying me, and the steady beat of her heart against my chest.
When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against her shoulder. "Get this dress off of me. I feel like I am going to stop breathing. The maids tightened the corset so much."
"Gladly, my love." Solace's voice drops lower, taking on that particular rough edge that makes heat pool low in my belly. Then she pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, and there is something vulnerable in her expression, something that makes my breath catch. "Permission to touch?"
I bite back a giggle, remembering the early days after she was first assigned as my guard. She had been so proper then, so careful to observe every protocol. No touching without explicit permission. No familiarity beyond what was required for her duties. I had been the one to slowly chip away at those walls, coaxing her into letting me closer, until the day I kissed her and she kissed me back like she was drowning and I was air.
Now she asks permission before undressing me, and the formality of it mixed with the clear desire in her eyes makes my knees weak all over again.
"Yes," I breathe against her lips, and then her hands are on the laces of my corset, deftly loosening the knots the maids tied so tightly this morning.
Solace
Kaia trembles every time my fingers ghost over her skin, each tie along the back of her dress coming loose with a soft tug. "Finally," Kaia breathes, the word carrying such relief that my chest tightens. Her head rests on my shoulder as she winds her arms around my waist, the little purrs of satisfaction falling from her lips making me fall in love with the princess of Valoria just a little more.
She turns to make it easier for me, Kaia kicking off her slippers into a small pile. Slippers that she absolutely should not have been wearing to a royal ceremony. Her bare feet press against the cool marble floor, and I watch over her shoulder as she flexes her toes, grounding herself in this small rebellion.
I have always loved that about her. The way she refuses to wear shoes whenever possible. The way she insists on pants instead of the flowing gowns expected of royal Omegas. The way she trains in secret, her muscles lean and powerful beneath skin that glows like burnished gold in the candlelight.
"Come here, princess," I murmur, moving behind her to work at the intricate lacing of her dress.
The dress is a monstrosity. Layers upon layers of violet silk embroidered with golden thread, meant to emphasize her status while simultaneously constraining her. I hate these gowns almost as much as she does. Each knot I untie feels like freeing her from invisible chains.
"That last one," Kaia says, a dark amusement in her voice. "The one with the scar across his jaw. Did you see how he actually growled at me when I suggested I could best him in combat?"
"Alpha Theron of the Northern Mountains," I supply, loosening another lacing. "And yes. I also saw how quickly he backed down when you offered to demonstrate." One of Kaia’s favorite things is to prove she will not be just anyone’s Omega, that she won’t willingly submit. I love it.
Her laugh is bright and unrestrained, nothing like the demure giggles expected of her in public. "Father looked like he was going to have a stroke. I thought the vein in his temple might actually burst."
I should not encourage her defiance. As her guard and her Beta, I am supposed to help her navigate these political waters, not revel in the way she capsizes every boat her father sets her in. But I cannot help the smile that tugs at my lips. "You are terrible," I tell her, but there is no heat in it. Only a fondness for the woman I’m in love with, yet can’t truly have.
