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I don’t understand what an Omega is, but I have been told I’m at the bottom of the pecking order, and I sink into a curtsey. I wince as I remember all the times I was forced to my knees before the loathsome High Priest.
Zabriel wouldn’t leave me here if he thought anyone was going to hurt me.
The crone’s face relaxes into a thin smile. “Welcome to the Flame Temple,Ma’len’smate. We are honored by your presence among us.”
She turns and drifts inside, and I follow her into the cavernous space. Everywhere is gleaming black stone, except for the vaulted open ceiling.
The Temple Crone wafts a wrinkled hand toward the massive fire that’s burning in the middle of the vast space. “This fire was lit by the First Dragon, and it is refreshed every week by the flare’s Alpha. It must never be allowed to go out.”
A dragon the size of a small dog is sleeping by the flaming font. As I watch, it stretches its forelegs out and yawns, revealing dozens of sharp white teeth, then it loops its tail around itself again and goes back to sleep.
“Did the fire go out when the dragonriders were sealed beneath the mountain five hundred years ago?” I ask.
She nods sadly. “It did. Those were dark times. Scourge relit the fire onMa’len’scoronation day, and theHratha’lenhave been proud to tend it again ever since.”
“Is that what you do here? You tend the fire?”
The crone gives me a look that reminds me of Biddy Hawthorne at her shrewdest. I can tell that without her needing to say anything that this woman does a great deal more than tend a fire.
She walks, and I follow along at her side. “We are the guardians of dragon magic. The keepers of history. We guide Alphas, Betas, and Omegas to understand their true nature. At present, we are also meditating on the barrier that is currently separating Maledin from the southern mountains.”
Interest blazes through me. “You are? What have you discovered? Have people from Maledin been taken behind that barrier?”
The Temple Crone arrives at an alcove carved into rock, which forms a natural kind of sheltered seat. “Ma’lenbrought you to us to help you understand your Omega nature. The barrier is his concern, not yours. Please be seated.”
I want to tell her that I can do both at once, but a lifetime trying to drag secrets out of Biddy Hawthorne has taught me that shrewd old women have to do things in their time and no one else’s.
I sit down and fold my hands in my lap with an expectant expression on my face. The crone regally takes her own seat, spreading her red robes around her. She’s silent for a moment, letting her gaze travel around the impressive and shiny black temple.
I follow her lead and glance around the enormous black temple with its huge flame. “The Maledinni certainly have a sense of scale and drama.”
The crone’s smile is tinged with pride. “Our people—yours and mine,Ma’len’smate—are an impressive people. Our majestic dragons. Our unique nature. Our careful attention to the role that every Alpha, Beta, and Omega assumes within our society. Everyone has a purpose, including you. Especially you,Ma’len’smate.”
“So I’ve heard,” I mutter. “Right at the bottom.”
The crone inclines her head. “That is so.”
I thought she would evade the question or come up with some waffle about how I’m not really at the bottom.
“Are you ashamed of your place,Ma’len’smate? You may not have heard how rare you are or realized how much your Alpha craves to protect you and keep you safe. He will love you and cherish you above all others and shower you with praise and affection. You are not lesser to him.”
Put that way, it doesn’t sound terrible, but I do worry how everyone else will treat me while Zabriel’s not looking. “Please call me Isavelle. Zabriel told me that I should find my own way of being an Omega, and this Omega doesn’t want to be addressed like she only exists because the king does.”
The woman inclines her head. “As you wish, Lady Isavelle. How are you coping with your emerging designation?”
I slump back against hard, cold stone. “Obviously not very well seeing as Zabriel has brought me to see you.”
The crone gives me a thin smile. “I used to speak with most emerging Alphas and Omegas in Maledin. I hope to again in this new Maledin, and I promise you that we all struggle with our designations at some time or another.”
“That’s some comfort I suppose,” I mutter.
“Do you believe you are an Omega?”
“Well, Zabriel says I am one.”
The Temple Crone gives me another one of her enigmatic smiles. “Ma’lenhas smelled your scent and he knows you are his mate, but have you ever caught your own scent?”
“I can do that?” I ask in surprise, lifting my wrist to my nose to give it a sniff. I smell nothing.
