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Another pair of arms join his, thinner and much gentler as my mother squeezes me as hard as her frail body can. “I knew it was going to be you. I just had a feeling. I mean, it had to be. You’re the best Omega they’ve got at the Academy.”
A chair shoves back and Kevin patters over to us, his little face bright, hands out, fingers spread wide like he can’t contain his own electric excitement. “Addie’s going to be a princess,” he shouts in his high-pitched little voice. “You are, aren’t you, Maddie? You’re going to be a princess, and I’ll get to play at a castle.” He gasps, racing closer, his eyes going impossibly wider. “Will I bea prince?”
My heart squeezes, and I laugh-sob into Dad’s shoulder, loving his optimism and hating that I know I likely won’t make it past the first trial.
Mum mutters about how much she’d have loved to watch the announcement, and Dad putters on about the stability this could bring. “Even if you’re not bonded to the Eaton Pack in the end, you might meet another aristocrat at court. You could be a…a duchess! Or a,um, oh blast,what is it called? Oh! A countess!”
Finally extricating myself from his arms, I turn to soothe my mother as warm tears press at the back of my eyes. “I wouldn’t get your hopes too high, but Mum was right. There’s a small compensation they offer, and it increases the longer I’m in the running. It should help, at least. You know, until you find work.”
By the sinking expression on my father’s face, I know his interview today didn’t go as well as he’d hoped, so I don’t ask him. Instead, I say, “I’ll send you whatever they send me, okay?”
“Nonsense,” Mum says. “You’ll keep it. Save it. Leave your father and me to sort out our own finances.”
“But—”
“Hush,” Dad says, squeezing me one last time before letting me go. “We should be celebrating.”
Mum chuckles, burying her face in my hair as she adjusts her grip to hold me tight now that she’s the only one hugging me. After a few minutes of not saying a thing, she draws back to cup my face in her cool hands.
Dad carries on about the various aristocrats I might meet. Kevin shrieks about how he’ll be a prince. But Mum’s voice is quiet and genuine as she looks into my eyes like she can see me.
“I hope you find happiness, Maddie. That’s the most important thing in this world. Just happiness.”
The tears that have been welling in my eyes finally slide out, tracking hot and heavy down my cheeks before I lean forward to rest my head against hers. Breathing in her lavender scent, I realize there’s another scent too. A much less pleasant one. The slightly acrid tang of her Cervus tainting her natural Omega pheromones. “Thanks, Mum.”
The doctor promised to send a health visitor to check on her and help with the adjustment since she lost the last of her sight, but I don’t think that’s happened yet. While Dad’s been at work and I’ve been at school, she’s been going through this all alone without help and months-long waits between appointments with her primary physician.
Guilt spears through me all over again.I should’ve thought about this.
If the promise of financial support didn’t exist, I would’ve turned the Trials down. However, last night I was praying to every god out there for an opportunity—any opportunity—to help my parents. And this is the opportunity I got.
Dad’s eyes meet mine over the pan of potatoes and onions he’s back to frying, and I know, no matter what Mum said, he will take any help he can get. If I stay in the trials, he’ll let me help them. He doesn’t have another choice.
All through dinner, my mind races with possibilities. Ways I could try to stay in the running longer.
Blackmail the prince, perhaps?
No.
My beheading won’t put food on the table.
Do they even still behead people?
“Shall I help you pack?” Mum asks quietly, bringing me out of the hurricane of my own thoughts once we’re finished eating.
“That would be great.” I nod, taking her hand as Dad nods at me to go up, taking my usual chore of clearing the plates and doing the washing.
“You’ll be all right while I’m gone, won’t you?” I ask once we’re alone.
Mum sits down on my bed and gives me a soft smile. “Of course, we’ll be all right. Don’t you dare squander this opportunity by worrying about us, Maddison. All your life, you’ve worked so hard. Never had a damn thing handed to you. Just this once, do something for yourself. Do whatever will make you happiest.”
“What if it’s not being bonded to the Eaton pack?”
She chuckles. “Then you escape the palace grounds in the dead of night,” she says, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And we’ll all run away together.”
I laugh, teary all over again but happy all the stress she’s been through since Dad lost his last job a month ago hasn’t stolen her sense of humor. Honestly, it’s ridiculous that those with family members who have been diagnosed with Cervus don’t get more leeway to take care of their loved ones.
With the rapid spread of the disease among Omegas these last couple of decades, there really ought to be more focus on support. Financial. Familial. Emotional. Just…anything.
