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I swallow hard, the threat wrapping around my throat like a vice. I know he means it. If I don't go through with this, he'll marry me off to the first alpha who comes knocking, regardless of who they are or how they'll treat me.
Vivienne watches the exchange with barely concealed glee, her perfectly painted lips curving into a smug smile. She's been waiting for this moment, for me to finally be put in my place.
"I understand," I say through my teeth, unshed tears of rage stinging my eyes.
Dad nods, satisfied. "Good. If the Blackwood pack asks for your hand at dinner, you will accept. No arguments."
"Yes, sir." The words taste like ash on my tongue, but what choice do I have?
As Dad and Vivienne leave the room, no doubt to celebrate their victory, I sink onto the bottom step of the grand staircase, my legs no longer able to support me. Hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back furiously. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
This is everything I've ever wanted, isn't it? To be chosen, claimed, part of a powerful pack that proves I'm someone worth choosing. But not like this. Not without any say in the matter, traded like a prized mare to the highest bidder.
I think of the Blackwood alphas, with their cold eyes and cruel smiles. The way Damien looked at me like I was nothing. Is that the fate that awaits me? To be nothing more than arm candy, a broodmare to bear their heirs and smile prettily at their side?
A shudder runs through me at the thought. No, I can't let that happen. I won't. Even if I have to go through with this farce of a mating, I'll find a way to make them see me as more than just a silly little omega. I'll prove my worth, carve out a place for myself in their pack.
But first, I have to survive dinner.
I take a deep, steadying breath and rise to my feet, squaring my shoulders. I can do this. I am Evangeline Beaumont, and I will not be broken. Not by my family, not by the Blackwoods, not by anyone.
I'll play the perfect omega, giggle and bat my lashes and hang on their every word. But they'll soon learn that the woman beneath the pretty mask is a survivor. A fighter.
And I won't stop fighting until I have the life I deserve. On my own terms.
No matter what it takes.
CHAPTER 6
LAKE
My paintbrush hovers over the canvas, unmoving. I stare at the half-finished portrait I've been paid a small fortune to paint, the politician's omega wife gazing back at me with lifeless eyes. No matter how I try, I can't seem to breathe soul into her image. Not when a different pair of eyes keeps flashing through my mind—light blue eyes that sparkle with hidden mischief.
Evie's eyes.
I set the brush down with a sigh, my fingers twitching with the urge to paint.Reallypaint, not just churn out another commission from one of the many wealthy patrons who populate my extensive waiting list. The piece in front of me has been on the list for three years, but it's not what's finally rekindled the insatiable thirst to paint. To create. It's a feeling I haven't had in so long, not since...
The door creaks open and I tense, relaxing only slightly when I catch Cole's familiar scent. My twin. The other half of my soul. He enters the room cautiously, as if approaching a wild animal.
I bristle at his hesitation.
"Hey," he says softly. "How's the painting coming?"
I shrug, not meeting his gaze. "It's coming."
Cole studies me, his brow furrowed with concern. I can practically feel the waves of worry radiating off him and I feel guilty knowing how much I've given him reason to worry.
"I just wanted to check in, see how you're feeling after?—"
"Don't," I cut him off, my voice sharp as a knife's edge. "I can't handle you walking on eggshells around me too. Not you, Cole."
He flinches and guilt twists in my gut. I scrub a hand over my face, suddenly exhausted.
"I'm sorry," Cole murmurs. "I didn't mean to... I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Blackwood called a meeting. With the Beaumont family's coalition."
My head snaps up, a tangle of emotions rising in my throat. Dread claws at my chest, mingling with a traitorous spark of anticipation. Evie's pack. A chance to see those haunting eyes again. Eyes that bring warmth and light to dark shadows I thought nothing could ever touch. But also the looming threat of being pushed to choose another mate.
The thought makes me recoil and I feel the familiar claws of pain digging into my throat, gripping and clenching tight. So tight I can't breathe.
