She felt as if he’d put the words on her tongue. They were not hers, they tasted foreign, and she did not want to swallow them down. “I am an Omega.”
“Good girl.”
Those watching may have found such an offering sweet, but Brenya saw the predator in those glinting teeth. Right there in the gleam of Jacques’ eyes laid a promise her soul was his.
No one in this room questioned what he’d done, or how she’d come to be there. Not one of them seemed to care that she wanted out.
Jacques possessed more than total control.
When her eyes floated to Annette, the pregnant woman favored her with a kind smile and wink. “I’ve known Jacques since I was a little girl, and have never seen him dote on anyone… or heard him speak so gently.” Giggling, utterly impish, she added, “With the Commodore under your thumb, you could rule the world.”
Brenya didn’t know what the designation Commodore meant. She didn’t understand anything here.
“Annette.” The hissed reprimand had come from the dark-haired Alpha at her back. Ancil was not at all pleased with his wife. “Your wit is not appreciated. You will watch your tongue before the Commodore.”
Waving a hand and glancing over her shoulder to her husband, Annette disagreed. “He doesn’t mind. His mate is bored, that’s why we’re here. You men can blather to one another with politic speech in parliament. We’re at tea, and I would like to see Brenya smile.”
The man dressed like an ancient king, the one lounging as if he owned the world, found the couple’s exchange amusing. “Speak freely, Annette.”
Brenya ventured a question. “What is a Commodore?”
As if at a loss for words, Annette cocked her head, her blonde ringlets bouncing. The question seemed unfathomable to the wide-eyed lady. “My darling…”
Ancil spoke in Annette’s place. “The Commodore of Bernard Dome holds highest authority. He is your leader, your chief, your priest. Your mate, Jacques, was anointed with that title, just as his father before him held it, on and on down the Bernard bloodline since the Dome rescued our ancestors.”
Her priest? The gentle Beta god had no priests. All were a part of him, making all holy… except Brenya wasn’t Beta anymore. That made her godless and alone. Disconnected, she felt desolate. “My orders were always issued from Oversight. Oversight manages the Dome.”
Ancil nodded. “Oversight is controlled by Parliament. Parliament is ruled by our Commodore. In essence, your orders have always come from your mate.”
Brenya’s eyes dragged over the carpet to land on the shined shoes of the man they claimed ruled them all. No wonder no soul had tried to stop him when he’d stolen her from Beta Sector. Jacques owned her—though mate seemed the more elegant term.
The weight of this understanding shrank her shoulders. “Wives consent.”
“Yes,” Annette agreed. “There are petitions, negotiations, ceremonies, everything documented because Alphas and Betas cannot pair-bond. Legal protection for the weaker party must be considered. I envy you. Once you enjoy a true estrous, you and Jacques will become as one harmonious being.”
Jacques had repeatedly alluded to this thing, this great magic that was going to heal every wound he had inflicted. Brenya had a head for mathematics, for science, and had never been interested in religious babble or romantic fairy tales. The balm of a pair-bond seemed unlikely.
She looked at Jacques’ guests, Annette and the dark Ancil. The pair wore rings, he had sired her child, and their contract was public… so lineage could be traced if questioned. These things mattered to Centrists.
Betas rarely ventured into such a union. There was no need to. Children could be produced if one wished, partners could be chosen, and when the baby was weaned and given to Oversight to be educated, the cycle could start again. Offspring grew up well, tests conducted so the child could be placed to assure their happiness and society’s enrichment. The women from Brenya’s barracks were more family to her than the smiling male who spoke with gentle care and exuded total control.
She was uncomfortable with this concept of mate.
She was uncomfortable being stared at by these three strangers. “Why are all the Omegas gone? Why was I never taught about them?”
Annette’s eyes betrayed a tiny sliver of shame. “I could not say.”
Brenya’s face must have grown stormy, for Jacques briskly interrupted her mental analysis. “Share your thoughts, Brenya.”
“You must assume the potential that there are other Omegas living happily in Beta Sector. Probability would be on your side, but Oversight Alphas should leave them alone.” It bubbled from her stomach, a wave of strong negative emotion. Her eyes flashed. Lips tight, she met his stare as if for once she didn’t fear him. “I was happy, but… you are Commodore… all orders come from you.”
He could hear the blame in her voice, and offered a soft look. “Do you think I should be the only Alpha enriched by an Omega? Do you believe those other women should be denied what they truly are?”