Chapter 14 The Sudden Decree
Lyanna
Morning crept into the omega quarters without warmth.
Light seeped through narrow slits cut high into the stone walls—pale and thin as bone. It touched nothing kindly. It revealed too much. I lay curled on my side, one hand pressed low against my abdomen, listening as the day assembled itself outside the walls.
Boots.
Not close—but present. Always present.
Metal scraped stone. A muttered exchange. Keys. The measured rhythm of a patrol passing the outer corridor. The sound alone was enough to still the room. Omegas froze where they lay, breath caught mid-draw, bodies tightening as if the walls themselves had leaned inward.
I exhaled slowly and pushed myself upright. A dull ache pulsed low in my belly—wrong, persistent. I ignored it and adjusted the veil over my face before anyone could look too closely.
My thoughts were already moving.
I had seen the gates yesterday. Watched carts searched down to the grain. Seen pitchforks driven into sacks hard enough to draw laughter when nothing screamed. Servant corridors looped inward like traps. The river chains glinted even in daylight.
There was no open path.
I swallowed.
Running blindly would get me killed.
Running smartly might get me killed slightly later.
When the bell rang, I rose with the others, folding my blanket precisely. Around me, the quarters stirred—soft footfalls, murmured breaths, veils tugged lower. Hair braided tight, tucked away.
Silver was too recognisable.
I wrapped a strip of rough brown cloth around my head, shoving every pale strand beneath it. The fabric scratched my scalp.
I welcomed it.
Pain kept me present.
Sera caught me by the wash basins and pressed a cup of thin broth into my hands. Her fingers lingered a fraction longer than necessary.
You still here?
I nodded and drank. The broth tasted of salt and iron. Halfway through, my stomach clenched hard enough to make me pause. I forced the rest down anyway.
Laundry duty was announced soon after.
Baskets were shoved into arms. Guards lounged beneath the archways, spears crossed loosely, eyes sharp. I kept my head bowed as we were herded through the gates.
The city beyond the quarters felt wrong, as always.
Shutters half-drawn. Merchants speaking low. Patrols thicker than yesterday—armour polished, formations tight. Notices had been nailed to posts overnight, parchment fluttering, red wax seals stamped heavy at the bottom.
I didn’t stop to read.
I already knew.
At the wash lines by the river, we knelt in rows, scrubbing fabric against boards worn smooth by years of use. I sank to my knees with them, sleeves rolled, hands plunging into water cold enough to bite.
I worked steadily.
And I listened.
“…lists are changing—”
“…Vespera’s name—”
“…three days—no more—”
My lower back twinged. I shifted and ignored it.
I edged closer to an older omega with scarred hands. When she glanced up, I signed carefully, keeping my movements small.
Guards change rotations. When?
Her eyes flicked toward the archway before she signed back.
Every bell. Midday—two less.
I nodded and scrubbed harder.
I drifted again, moving between pairs as naturally as I could manage. Each question cost me something—time, risk, attention. Sweat slicked my spine despite the cold water.
At one point, a shadow fell over me.
I froze mid-motion.
A guard stood near the edge of the yard, helmet tucked under his arm, gaze roaming. I lowered my head further, shoulders slumping, hands slowing as if fatigue had finally claimed me.
His eyes slid past.
Only when he turned away did I breathe again.
I stood to hang a rinsed sheet and felt it.
That awareness.
I didn’t look at first. Just shifted my weight, reached for another bundle, and let my gaze flick sideways.
By the stone balustrade overlooking the river stood an alpha.
Dark hair pulled back. Broad shoulders beneath a plain but well-made coat. Hands clasped behind his back.
Lord Veras.
He wasn’t speaking. Wasn’t close.
But his attention was fixed on the omegas.
On me.
My pulse jumped. I dropped my eyes instantly. Soap slipped from my fingers and splashed into the water. I did not retrieve it.
Do not react.
I bent back to my work, breath slow, even—yet I could feel his gaze like pressure against my skin. Not the lazy watchfulness of guards.
Something sharper.
Assessing.
Minutes stretched.
Then, mercifully, a bell rang. A guard barked an order. We gathered our baskets and were herded back toward the quarters.
I didn’t look back.
Inside the omega hall, whispers ignited the moment the doors shut.
“He’s assigned here—”
“Lord Veras—”
“They say he’s choosing—”
A chill slid down my spine.
Sera found me near the pallets, face tight.
“They say he’s looking for an omega,” she murmured. “To mate. New decree. Three days.”
My stomach clenched—harder this time. I pressed my palm flat against it, hiding the motion.
Why now?
Why him?
That evening, the air shifted again.
I felt it before I heard him.
I had retreated to the narrow corner near the outer wall, where broken crates stacked deep enough to hide my shape. It was where I thought best.
Where I breathed.
Boots approached.
I went still.
He moved between the pallets without hurry. Omegas shrank back instinctively as he passed. His presence drew the space tight around him. I kept my head down, veil in place.
He stopped in front of me.
“You,” he said.
My body locked.
“Look at me.”
I didn’t.
Silence stretched.
He crouched, bringing his face level with mine. Too close. Leather, steel, something sharp beneath.
“You’re not mute.”
The words cut clean.
My face remained blank.
Inside, panic screamed.
He stood and circled me slowly. Once. Twice.
“Who are you?” he asked quietly. “What’s your name?”
Nothing.
He stopped behind me. Heat. Presence. He leaned closer—
—and stilled.
His breath hitched. His jaw tightened. His gaze dropped, then snapped back up.
His nostrils flared.
My scent had shifted.
Fear. Stress.
And the baby was becoming harder to hide.
Before he could speak again, a voice echoed from the doorway.
“Lord Veras.”
He straightened slowly.
A moment stretched between us.
Then he stepped away.
“Another time,” he said.
I sagged forward once he was gone, breath shuddering out of me. A cramp twisted sharp enough to steal it entirely. I bit down hard, refusing to make a sound.
Sera was there instantly.
“What did he say?” she whispered.
I shook my head.
“You need to stop drawing eyes,” she murmured—not angry. Afraid. “Especially his.”
Night fell thick and airless.
I lay awake, stone inches from my face. The ache in my abdomen pulsed stronger now—insistent. I curled tighter, willing it to ease.
It didn’t.
Near midnight, noise swelled outside. Too many boots. Too many voices.
“…orders—”
“…find her—”
Sera burst in, breath ragged, eyes wild.
Her hands flew.
They’re going to kill you.
My heart slammed. What?
Vespera, she signed frantically. She said you were in the council hall.
My vision narrowed.
Bina’s moving you. Now.
We didn’t gather anything.
I was dragged through unfamiliar corridors, down a stairwell that stank of mould and old blood. Bina waited below, face set.
She shoved me into a dark alcove behind stacked barrels and stepped in front of me.
“Silent,” she hissed.
Boots thundered above. Keys clanged. A torch passed close enough that heat licked my cheek.
A cramp tore through me—white-hot. I doubled inward, clamping a hand over my mouth, nails digging into my palm until blood welled.
Boots stopped.
“Check there.”
Bina didn’t move.
Seconds stretched.
Then the boots moved on.
Vespera’s fury echoed faintly through the halls—cold, controlled, deadly.
“Find her,” she snapped. “Or I’ll have your heads.”
Bina didn’t wait.
The moment the sounds faded, she grabbed my wrist and hauled me into the service corridors beneath the quarters.
“We’re not going back tonight,” she hissed.
A narrow door. A shove inside.
Dark. Low ceiling. Dust and old linen.
“Stay.”
Pain hit.
Not sharp—deep. Violent. It stole my breath and folded me in half. I clutched my stomach, teeth sinking into my sleeve as my body shook.
“You hurt?” Bina whispered.
I shook my head.
Another wave—stronger. I gasped despite myself.
She swore softly. Voices still echoed above.
“I’ll come back,” she said. “Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”
The door closed.
I was alone.
Then the pain surged again, worse.
I curled tighter, hands shaking as they cradled my abdomen, terror crashing through my chest.
Not yet.
Another cramp tore through me.
I bit back a scream as the dark closed in.
Something was wrong.