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Her fingers tightened around my arm, and I suppressed a wince at the pain. This was my cue to obey, to let the obedient omega take over and play my assigned role to perfection.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I nodded mutely and let Meredith lead me through the crowd, each step feeling heavier than the last. The memory of my dance beneath the stars, my moment of true freedom, grew more distant with every passing second.
As much as I longed to run, to escape the suffocating expectations that bound me, the fear of Meredith’s retribution was stronger. I could already picture the sharp sting of her hand across my cheek, the biting reprimands that would follow if I dared to defy her.
So I stayed. I obeyed. I let the brilliant light that had flickered to life within me during those stolen moments in the garden dim until it was nothing more than a faint, smoldering ember, banked by the weight of obligation.
But even as I pasted on a serene smile and let Meredith parade me around like a prize to be displayed, a part of me clung to the fleeting memory of how it felt to be truly alive—to dance without chains, to sing without fear of judgment. It was a taste of freedom I would never forget, and one that left me forever craving more.
Meredith’s grip on my arm was as unyielding as a shackle, her fingers digging into my flesh as she guided me through the opulent sea of the party’s elite. Each introduction was more intimidating than the last, the powerful alpha women inspecting me as they might a rare piece of art. I felt their eyes assessing my potential to bear strong alpha offspring, to further cement alliances within their ranks. Their gaze was calculating, piercing through me as if I’m simply one more asset in this grand game of prestige.
“This is Asa, our lovely omega,” Meredith said with a veneer of pride that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her words hung in the air like a flag staked on conquered land.
The women circled around me, their perfumes mixing into an intoxicating haze that did little to ease the tightness in my chest. They were imposing figures, each one radiating authority and an innate sense of control that seemed to challenge the very air around them.
“Such a rare beauty,” cooed one, her eyes lingering on my alabaster skin and pale hair with undisguised fascination.
“Indeed,” agreed another, her tone laced with an edge that suggested interest of a different sort. “And how do you find the transition to high society? Must be challenging for a girl of your… background.”
Their questions probed like slender knives, disguised by the politeness of their tone but sharp enough to draw blood. I fumbled for answers, my voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s… an adjustment,” I admitted, feeling woefully out of depth amid their scrutinizing gazes.
“And what are your ambitions?” The question came from a woman whose gaze seemed to pierce right through me. “Surely you aspire to more than just being an ornament on the Whitmores’ arm?”
My cheeks flushed with heat at the pointed query. I struggled for words, keenly aware that any admission of dreams beyond what was expected of me could spell disaster.
“I—”
A matriarch with silver hair and a face etched with experience leaned forward, her sharp eyes roving over me in a way that made me want to squirm. “Tell me, child, are you aware of your obligations as an omega?”
I swallowed hard, my throat constricting under the weight of her scrutiny. “Y-Yes, ma’am. To honor the traditions and… and bear heirs for a suitable match.”
The words left a bitter taste in my mouth, a reminder of how little say I had in my own destiny. But the woman seemed satisfied, nodding curtly.
Another woman, this one with auburn curls and a gaze that could cut glass, took her turn appraising me. “And what of your education? Have you been properly prepared to manage a household and support your future husband?”
Heat rose in my cheeks as I fumbled for a response. “I… I’ve studied the appropriate subjects. Etiquette, household management, the arts…”
My words trailed off as the woman’s perfectly arched brow quirked in what can only be disdain. I had failed yet another test, it seemed.
A hush fell over the room then—a sudden, charged silence that prickled along my skin with an energy I couldn’t quite place. I turned and there they were—Dominic, Xavier, and Lucian Davenport. Their approach was like a wave crashing over us all, commanding immediate attention.
And then they were before us—three titans of masculine perfection, their intense gazes sweeping over me in a way that stole the very breath from my lungs. I could feel the weight of their scrutiny like a physical caress, setting my nerves alight and stirring something deep within me.
Meredith, for once, seemed stunned into silence before quickly recovering her poise.
“Mr. Davenport, Mr. Davenport, and Mr. Davenport,” she gushed, eagerly stepping forward and pulling me along with her. “Allow me to introduce my daughter, Asa.”
I wanted to shrink away, to disappear from the intensity of their combined focus. But Meredith’s grip was unrelenting, forcing me to remain still as the brothers regarded me with eyes that seemed to strip away every layer, every pretense, until I felt utterly bare before them.
Their scent enveloped me—rich, heady, and utterly intoxicating. It was the unmistakable aroma of pure, unadulterated alpha, and it awakened a primal hunger within me that I’d never experienced before. My knees threatened to buckle as my own omega pheromones surged in response, a silent siren call that had my pulse thundering in my ears.
In this moment, caught in the gravitational pull of their dominance, I understood what it meant to be truly seen—to have the very core of my being laid bare before creatures of such staggering power.
The world seemed to stop spinning as Dominic extended his hand toward me, his fingers beckoning in an invitation I never could have anticipated.
“Would you care to dance?”
