Her attention went back to the Beta, the limpid blue of his eyes a bit jarring. Her motivation for attempted polite conversation was halted by that look, and she was relieved that they might stand still and be silent.
Until he ruined it by speaking in an accent as ugly as hers. “You should leave.”
Heart heavy, she turned back to the view and sighed. “I don’t know how to get out.”
“Brenya!” Jacques called, the sound of his footsteps crossing the room like soft thunder. “Come.”
He was smiling when she glanced his way, but his eyes were malicious as he looked upon the men standing near her.
Once upon their group, the Commodore immediately put an arm around Brenya’s waist and pulled her flush to his side. “Come away from them now and return to your monster. I find myself greedy for your attention.”
He was purring loudly, so loud it seemed almost inappropriate. The sound coupled with the wine in her veins led her to beg, “Please, Jacques, I’d like to go to bed.”
Twisting her words with a devilish smirk, Jacques teased. “I’d be a fool to resist such an offer.”
The old man dared to laugh. The Ambassador did not.He carried her from the party in his arms, despite her yelp when he’d gone to swoop her up. On one hand, she’d hated it, embarrassed he made such a show of their departure for the group to chuckle at. On the other, it had given her a way to avoid conversation or contact with anyone else. Fingers toying with the lapel of his jacket, she’d kept her eyes on Jacques’ chest and off the room where he’d shamed her over the back of a couch.
She’d even held her breath so she would not have to smell a thing.
When they were in the halls, she closed her eyes and settled against his body, certain asking him to put her down would have been pointless.
Jacques kept his silence all the way to his rooms. When they were at the bed, he lay her down with a grin.
“My poor Omega. She had a terrible night and hates me.” Jacques took off her shoes and kissed the tip of her toes, kneading Brenya’s feet as he teased, “What would make her feel better?”
Brenya reached for one of the larger pillows, her favorite one, and pulled it to her body as if she might curl around it and forget. “You said I didn’t have to talk to you.”
He nipped her toe, earning a squeal, before lowering himself over her body. “I know what you’d like.”
She wanted out of the constrictive dress. She wanted the jagged necklace off her skin. But to say so would be used as an excuse by the male to have his way with her.
Which he was going to do either way.
It was more than the weight of the Alpha hovering over her, a heavy burden sat on her chest. Eyes closed tight, she sighed into the pillow. “I’d like Annette to be happy.”
“And she will be.” He was playful for a monster, kissing and biting his way up her body. “It is my duty to see that all under the Dome have purpose. Annette will find hers in raising Ancil’s children. She will find it in service as a Beta beyond the title of first wife.”
“You mean Lucia’s children.”
“The eldest and heir is hers. The law is clear on that, Lucia’s progeny will always be second. It will be the same for the other wives when they too are replaced. The contracted lineage is protected in case a mate is found after marriage.”
“You have reduced her to something disposable.” Trying to turn under him and give him her back, Brenya grumbled, “And the other wives, will they be made into mindless servants? Will they be discarded and abused?”
“That is up to their husbands.” Jacques grumbled at her lack of response to his games, turning her body where he would. Like a child denied a toy he barked, “I do not like you sullen, mon chou. Loving me can be very easy.”
Mumbling into the pillow, Brenya rejected the idea. “No.”
“What did you say to me?”
Eyes open, emboldened by how much anger was in her heart, Brenya turned to face him so he might hear clearly. “I said no.”
The immediate stink of Alpha anger singed her nostrils, Jacques glaring down, his lips tight and eyes hard. Long moments passed while he studied her face, the sounds of the bones in his fingers popping when he made a fist.
It looked as if his every muscle swelled. “You are not the only Omega in Bernard Dome, Brenya.”
And there were nine unmated, beautiful women ready to laugh and play his games. “I’ve seen what you do to women who are inconvenient, what you did to your friend—the public shaming. The display. First Annette, then me. I do not doubt you will do it to the other Omegas too.”