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Alpha Winston,
I am sure you are going to hear some horrid stories in the next few weeks once the news gets out, but I wanted you to hear the truth directly from me. I don’t know what Father is going to do or say to protect himself. I am sure he will try to shift the blame to you and start a smear campaign to destroy your name. I really wish there were more I could do to prevent that. I do have some plans, but it is hard to know if Father will listen.
Whatever story Father says, I wanted you to hear firsthand that I am leaving voluntarily, and I do not blame you for anything. After my heat was over, I showed nothing but fear to you and you still treated me with concern and respect. You took care of me, and I’ll never forget that.
I don’t begrudge you for ending the engagement. I understand the match was not well made between us. I also believe you had no idea how Father would react, and I do not blame you for it.
But, I can’t take it anymore. I am afraid he will kill me if I stay any longer. I know I should accept whatever punishment he deems necessary. I know I am a terrible and shameful omega for not being able to submit to my alpha, but I’d rather be a shamed omega then a dead one. Thank you for helping me see that.
Sincerely,
Lennon Mathsons
I wasn’t sure how many times I reread the note before I finally looked up from the paper. By the time I finished, it was crumbled around the edges from my hands.
“Oldaric—” I began, but I couldn’t form words. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Do you think—do you think he’s still alive?”
“I-I’m not sure. Even if he got out, he was an omega, likely on his own. And that was what, 25 years ago? I’d love to say yes, but . . .” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. I understood. As bad as things were now, they were even worse back then. If he managed to escape, the chances of him surviving this long were slim. But still, after all this time believing I was responsible for his death, it seemed, maybe, that wasn’t true? Gods. I didn’t know how to take this.
“Wasn’t there a funeral?” Oldaric asked. “I vaguely remember this. Not your involvement. It seems whatever assurances Lennon found to protect you worked, but his death . . . I remember a funeral, I believe.”
I nodded absently. “There was. I didn’t go, but I heard it was a closed casket. They said he was too damaged to display. What do I do with this information?”
Oldaric squeezed my arm. “I’m not sure if there’s anything you can do at this point besides take some comfort in the fact that Lennon never blamed you.”
It was small comfort. If I wasn’t a coward all those years ago, I may have been able to help him. He was likely still alive when I got the letter. If I’d opened it, I could have found him, made sure he was safe and protected. Instead, I left him on his own.
“You really are a martyr, aren’t you?”
“What?” I snapped. Why would he say that?
“You’re blaming yourself for not opening the letter now, aren’t you? What do you imagine you’d be able to do if you did open it early? Find him?”
“Well, yes.”
Oldaric shook his head and collapsed into one of the chairs. “Wow, I never realized how conceited you are. You don’t imagine his father had people looking for him? A suicide is scandalous enough, but an omega running away? Especially back then? Someone like him would have never recovered from the embarrassment. If he somehow never found Lennon, I’m not sure you would have been able to. You didn’t have the backing of Strongfire Enterprises back then.”
That was true. It was a few years later, after I had taken over, that I sold my companies to Strongfire in exchange for a position on the board and a part of the shares. I also had a say on the management of my portion of the holdings. While my family held some weight, I didn’t have the backing or the resources that Lennon’s father had. I was still young and trying to find my way.
“How do we know he didn’t find him? He could have been killed by then.”
“Then it wouldn’t have been a closed casket. A bastard like Mathsons would have showed off his son to everyone.”
I let the news simmer. I still regretted waiting this long to open the letter, but Oldaric might have a point. Lennon had some kind of plan. I needed to trust and hope that he succeeded. My friend was right about one thing: he did succeed in keeping most of the heat off me. In private, Mathsons berated and threatened me, but never publicly. From what I could tell, no one ever found out about my role in it, and I never knew why.
I wasn’t sure if I felt better after reading the note. I was relieved he wasn’t dead, at least not at that time, and I was honestly grateful he didn’t hold a grudge. It hurt that he thought I was good to him. I’d never forget the unadulterated fear on his face when I woke up, and yet he thanked me for cleaning up wounds I inflicted. That would never feel good.
I was lost in my own thoughts for so long, I forgot Oldaric was still here until he finally spoke.
“You know, if you do plan to claim Jett, you will have to tell him this. He’s earned an explanation.”
I rolled my head to the side to look at my friend. I didn’t have the energy to do any more than that. Did he really think I still should claim him after everything? “I’m not sure I can. How can he ever look at me the same after that?”
Oldaric sighed, looking very tired. “I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit. I don’t know Jett very well, but from what I do know, he’s a very intelligent young man and is very aware that the world isn’t black and white.” He shrugged. “Besides, you’ll never know how he’ll react if you don’t give him a chance. He needs to know why you rejected him.”
I closed my eyes. I felt like I wanted to cry, but no matter how hard I tried, my eyes remained dry. “I just—how do I know the same thing won’t happen with Jett? I’m scared he won’t tell me to stop when he needs me to.” I swallowed, needing a moment before I continued, but I had to get this out, “And I’m even more afraid I won’t stop even if he does tell me.”
Oldaric remained quiet, thoughtfully processing what I said. I tried not to squirm in my chair like a small child. I was silently cursing him out for dumping my bottle, even if I knew it was for the best. Finally, my old friend spoke.
