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And think about it I do.

Back in my room, quietly eating my dinner at the small desk by the window. Pacing back and forth with my hands behind my back. Sitting in the tub in the bathroom, reading the book about Omega Liberation again.

It outlines clearly what the first step is—finding a safe, reliable way to stop an omega’s heats. To allow them control over when they happen, if they want them at all.

Society has told omegas for a long time that their only value is in child-bearing. But the only path to liberation is one in which omegas are seen for being more than just that—for their souls. For their brains.

Suppressing or controlling the heat serves multiple purposes in that vein. It gives the omega control over when she wants to be most fertile. Allows her to plan a family if and when she wants, rather than being at the behest of her biology.

And the second function—which is far more important and obvious—is to deny the violence of alphas. The modern alpha assumes a certain level of entitlement to an omega’s body. He claims that being in a rut is a medical condition for which the omega is the only cure. Perhaps that is true, but no shifter is obligated to be the treatment for another. No alpha would be compelled to give his kidney, simply because another “needed” it.

After my bath, I put the book back in its hiding spot and continued to pace.

Everything in that book is on a grand scale. Talking about society and how to address the problem from a macro level.

But I can’t help framing it through my own personal experience.

Specifically, being with Augustus in the woods. His chest pressed against mine, that delirious, perfect feeling of being with him. Close to him, breathing in his scent.

All this time, I thought I knew the answer to what happened to me.

I thought Augustus was my false mate. That the universe erred when trying to bind me with someone else, making it a one-way connection.

But maybe that’s not true.

Maybe the only real explanation is the obvious one.

Augustus is my mate. My real mate. And he’s been denying it to himself all this time. It’s not even difficult to imagine why—I’m nobody. Worse than just any omega, I specifically come from the outskirts. From those aligning themselves with Gavyn.

I don’t know much, but I imagine whatever happened earlier that Augustus had to leave on short notice for had to do with Gavyn.

My mate is a king.

He could never claim me publicly. Could never align himself with me. But saving me from sacrifice, saving me from that bear—he’s compelled to do that. Apparently, that’s a compulsion he can’t ignore, as opposed to the others. Has it also been a compulsion for him to come visit me? To bring the books? To sit for hours over tea, needle me for the chess strategy I’m learning?

“Perhaps, my king,” I’d said sarcastically, but a pulse of pleasure crossed his face, anyway. I ignored it. “You would benefit from reading some of those chess books.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to believe you learned how to play like that from some books.”

“Believe what you want while I keep on beating you.”

All this time, he’s been able to resist coming to me. Maybe the distance now has made it impossible. Forced him to come to my room and spend time with me.That could mean that, when my heat comes, he won’t be able to ignore that urge, either. What if he goes into a rut and comes to find me, and we’re together out of sheer biological need?

He might be able to bear that. Might be able to keep me as a dirty little secret, a way to relieve the pressure of mating to the wrong omega.

I can’t. Being with him without being with him sounds like a torture even the worst kings of the Southern pack wouldn’t inflict on another shifter. To be denied by your mate, then kept in the shadows. And when he eventually wed another omega to continue his bloodline? Would I just watch, allow him to come to me with her scent on him?

The very thought of it makes me sick.

It’s not entirely his fault—it’s not like he chose this. It’s not like he designed society to be this way, so enacting and cruel with social casting. Augustus has been kind to me. He’s saved my life multiple times, and made me as comfortable as I can be here. He’s not outwardly cruel to omegas, just passively falls in line with the way things already are.

But he is a king. If anyone has the power to go against what’s expected, it’s him.

And he’s choosing not to.

I might be worth saving from death and locking up, but I’m clearly not worth that risk to him. The risk of his standing. Of his leadership, of the respect that’s heaped upon him.