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But maybe I’m feeling it now because I’ve finally lost hope.

Maybe the truth is that, throughout the years, some stupid part of my brain always held out hope that I would get to be with Augustus after all. That the man from the club would hear my cries and come for me. That the tether would be too strong for him to resist. That, after that night, he’d changed his mind and tried to come to me, but something stopped him.

Some nights, I deluded myself into thinking he was fighting all odds to find me, to save me. To prove to my father that, even as a poor omega outcast, I actually could attract a powerful alpha.

And then when I saw him again, at the festival—after he saved me—that hope got brighter. I kept searching for the reason he would do that. I kept trying to escape, just to get his attention. I wanted him near, thinking that if he got a taste of the bond, he would want to keep it.

No matter how unorthodox. He’s a king—he has the power and authority to claim me. To change the rules. He could compel them to accept me, to accept us together.

I held out with that stupid hope the entire time. Then, when he stayed for my heat, it got unbearable. Almost started to feel real.

And now, after hearing about his wedding, his engagement to a different omega—learning that she has been in and out of the castle the entire time, while I’m locked up here…

My hope is gone. And that has to be what is making me so sick.

I just need to get over it, need to get over him. Use my mind to convince my body that I am never going to have him. He is never going to choose me.

And I refuse to be an omega locked away in a tower. Refuse to be a source of pleasure for him while he’s out there, a husband to another woman.

The thought screams through my head like a siren, and I stick my head back in the toilet, retching and crying and feeling more sorry for myself than I ever have before.

***

Later that night, I’m shuffling back to my bed after another session of throwing up. I wipe at my face gently with a warm cloth and think about the herbal tea I’m going to sip to ease the soreness of my throat from being sick. And then, on instinct, I turn and look at the door to my bedroom.

Typically, a small amount of light shines through the keyhole and into the room. Tonight, it’s dark. At first, I think it must be one of the guards, having shifted in front of the door momentarily, but it stays like that as I stand still and watch, cloth held still in my hands. There’s no movement outside the door, and no light coming in through the keyhole.

Something has been going on all day. There are other people in the guest quarters, for one. I can hear them banging around in their rooms, listened to the sounds of them arriving with their bags, sorting into the different suites around me.

The guards have been much quieter. I didn’t get dinner today—which I can only hope was a mistake and not the start of a starving. Not that it really matters. I’ve been so unwell that all I’ve managed to do is read and sip tea and cry.

But now…now, staring at the door, I can tell something is different.

There’s a voice in the back of my head—maybe the logical version of myself that still exists in there—telling me that this is my chance. That lack of light coming through the door must be a key stuck in the outside. And if they left the key, there’s a chance they forgot to turn it. Or maybe one of the other guests bumped into it, turning it as they went.

Everyone is distracted. Something is clearly going on in the castle.

I creep across the room. Place my hand on the doorknob. Everything is deathly quiet—even my heart beats quietly, as though it knows being loud might get me caught.

The handle turns. The door opens without a single squeak.

I drift out into the hallway. I look left and right, expecting the sharp bark of an angry guard. Expecting that this might have been some test to see if I would try and escape.

But there’s nothing. Nobody here. The guests who were staying in the rooms around me are gone now. In the distance, there’s the sound of a party. Music playing. Glasses clinking.

My stomach tightens. Bile climbs my throat again. A celebration for Augustus’s wedding.

Maybe it’s the wedding itself.

Or maybe that happened already, and this is something else entirely.

Whatever it is, it’s my chance to get out of here. Everyone is distracted. Even the guards are off at the source of the sound, I assume. I was hoping for more time to plan, to get ready. To feel better.

But this is my chance.

So, wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater, my hair up in a bun that’s sliding down the side of my head, I turn and start walking down the hallway. At least I have the boots if I need to run through the woods again.

Instantly, my mind flashes with the memory of the bear, of what happened the last time I tried to escape like that. It won’t be like that, this time. This time, I’ll be more careful. More aware.