Page 7

I hadn’t told my story beyond the year when I’d met Goran, so they didn’t know that the Goddess had left me alone, that I’d asked her to. Adiah was right; I was a fool.

“No, Mirrim. She’s right to be angry. At first, I was trying to be a spy for my boss. But I’ve always known what I needed to do. Protect and save Omegas like us, like my mother. I used the spying job as an excuse, and traveled to all the lands doing what I could. But I should have come here sooner. I’m sorry, so sorry, that I came here last.” I kneeled low, pressing my head to the packed dirt. “Forgive me for being too late for your friends.”

When I lifted my head, Adiah had turned to stare out one of the narrow windows, looking toward the children’s longhouse. “You’re alone,” she said, not mentioning forgiveness. “One woman, no matter how skilled, cannot overcome the guards. It’s impossible.”

“Difficult, yes. Not impossible. But I don’t think we should fight.” Not yet, anyway. I took in the state of the women. None of them were strong enough to swim a mile; most of them looked close to death from malnourishment.

Rielle whimpered when a breeze blew past, carrying the scent of something musky inside. An Alpha? I moved next to Adiah and spotted someone moving past in the brush, outside the fence line.

“It’s just Frol. He’s been out there all last night and all day,” Adiah whispered as she moved to comfort Rielle. There was so much love in the way she brushed the sweat-damp hair away from the younger Omega’s face, my heart panged.

“Does he need killing?” I asked, the obsidian shard in my hand warming as I held it.

She shrugged. “All Alphas do.”

I remembered when I’d felt that way.

She went on in a half-whisper. “He’s not that bad. He’s kinder than the rest. But he’s fathered half the children on this island.”

“How?” One word was all I could manage. How could an Alpha impregnate an Omega in these conditions? The Goddess may not have been able to protect Omegas against the plagues, or feral Alphas, but She’d made sure no Omega could be forced to accept an unwanted mate. Not only would our wombs not kindle life when it was forced by a Beta, but entering an Omega who didn’t welcome him was impossible for an Alpha.

The memory of my first time with Goran flashed in my mind. Hells, sometimes even when we wanted an Alpha, the Goddess might not allow it.

Adiah didn’t answer, only clenched her jaw in a way I recognized, anger and shame warring on her face. Mirrim placed a hand on my arm and guided me to the closed door closest to the sea. “Frol isn’t feral. He’s the sweetest-natured Alpha I’ve ever known. Different, gentle. He was found ten years back, washed up on the beach.”

“A sailor?”

She shook her head. “He’s more like your father. A pure soul. None of us speak his language, though, so we’re not sure where he’s from. He only understands a few words of Pictish.”

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. My mother had rescued me from Pict, but I’d never known anything about my father. I had no memories of him. “My father?”

“Perun.” She made a familiar gesture, pressing her hand to her heart, then lifting it to the sky. “Long may he be remembered for his sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice? Tell me, please.” I nodded toward Rielle. “Somewhere I can boil the yam roots.”

“Of course. The safest cooking fire is outside. Rielle? Stay inside for now.”

“Yes, Mimi,” Rielle whimpered, curling up into a tight ball on the floor, two of the others soothing her.

“Adiah, come with us.” Mirrim’s hand tightened around my arm as she led me to the back door. I lifted the bar, my hand tightening on the obsidian in my cloak pocket in case any of the Alphas had managed to get inside the fence, or climb it.

It would be nearly impossible. The black sand beach that stretched in front of us was enclosed on all sides by tall iron fences more than twice my height, topped by rusted spikes. The fence had even been sunk into the ocean, the thick iron bars disappearing beneath the slow lapping waves. The tide was out, and there was only a foot of water when a deep wave washed in.

“We can bathe,” Mirrim mentioned once Adiah had joined us and stepped outside. “There’s no soap, though, and the seawater isn’t good on wounds. We don’t bathe often, for obvious reasons.”

“Smart.” The stench would hide their Omega scents, though not completely. But the risk for infection was too high with them so malnourished.

Mirrim nodded toward the lurking Alpha, who’d taken a step closer to the fence. “But the children like to splash, and maybe you would like to wash off.” She hesitated. “Your scent is very mild. Mint and…?”

“Rain, yes. It’s never been very pronounced. I took some fertility suppressant herbs a few days back. I’d like to wash some of the dirt off,” I said, looking around. “I’d swim if the water was deep enough.”

“I used to swim.” She gestured to the stump of her arm. “They guard us closely when we’re out here.” I glanced up the hill to the barracks. Sure enough, the two hulking Alphas were outside watching, along with a handful of Betas in pale robes.

“Afraid you would try to escape, or worried you might drown in a foot of water?”

She stayed silent, but Adiah sucked in a sharp breath. I’d come too close to some unspeakable memory. Had young Omegas drowned themselves, rather than lie with an Alpha… or be fed to the maw?

Or had something worse taken place on this beach?