Chapter 16 An Alpha’s Selfishness and A New Plan
Lyanna
I thought that was the end of it. That I'd at least get a day or two of blending into this new place before something happened again.
I was wrong.
We hadn’t been in the new pen more than a quarter bell when another figure arrived—robes instead of armor, pale hands folded neatly at his waist. A medic. Not Mara. This one didn’t bother looking at Bina.
His eyes went straight to me.
“I’ve been instructed to conduct a private evaluation,” he said mildly. “Breeding suitability. Alpha trials.”
The words slid under my skin like ice.
It seemed this was further away from the initial pen and they were just starting their own evaluations.
What cursed timing.
My body went rigid before my mind caught up.
“No,” I said. The word came out hoarse, small—and terrifyingly easy to ignore.
Bina stepped forward instinctively, but before she could say anything, a sharp voice called from the corridor. “Bina—there’s a matter in the outer quarters. Now.”
She glanced at me, eyes wide, then reluctantly nodded. “Go,” the inspector said.
Bina hesitated, then turned and left, casting me a worried look. The moment the door closed, the space felt impossibly large.
The medic smiled as though indulging a child. “It won’t take long.”
I took a step back. The walls felt closer. The air thinner. I could already feel the way this ended—doors closing, hands restraining, my voice swallowed by stone.
Then Marek moved.
He placed himself squarely between me and the medic, broad shoulders blocking the man’s line of sight.
“She’s not cleared,” Marek said.
The medic arched a brow. “On whose authority?”
Marek didn’t hesitate.
“Lord Veras’s.”
The name landed like a struck bell.
I sucked in a breath.
The medic’s smile thinned. “I wasn’t informed—”
“I don’t care,” Marek cut in, voice flat. “She collapsed in the outer rings. Severe weakness. Suspected internal strain. If you drag her into trials and she dies, that’s on your ledger.”
A pause.
Marek leaned in just enough that only the medic could hear him. “And I promise you,” he added quietly, “it will not be forgotten.”
Something shifted.
The medic’s gaze flicked past Marek, to me—assessing, calculating. Annoyance crept in where hunger had been.
“She looks frail,” he conceded at last. “Hardly optimal.”
“She is,” Marek said. “That’s the point.”
Another beat. Then the medic exhaled through his nose, sharp and displeased.
“Very well. Mark her unsuitable. For now.”
For now.
He turned and left without another word.
The space he vacated felt too large. Too exposed.
My knees threatened to fold, weakness rushing in now that the danger had passed. I caught myself against the edge of the pallet, breath shallow, pulse still skidding wildly beneath my skin.
Marek didn’t look at me at first. He stared after the medic, jaw tight, hand flexing at his side as if restraining some old, familiar violence.
Why?
The question burned so loudly it felt visible.
Why had he stepped in—again?
Why had he used Lord Veras’s name so easily?
And was it true? Did he even have the authority? Or was he lying? And… why did it matter to him at all?
I lifted my gaze to him despite myself, searching his back, his shoulders, the set of him. For cracks. For motive.
He must have felt it.
Marek exhaled through his nose and finally turned. His eyes met mine—and something in his expression shifted, sharp and knowing.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
My breath caught.
He crossed the short distance between us and crouched, bringing himself level with my eyes. Not looming. Not commanding.
“You’re wondering why I keep helping you,” he said quietly. “Why I protect you. Why I’d risk invoking Veras’s name.”
I didn’t deny it.
His mouth curved, just barely. Not a smile. Something rougher.
“It’s selfishness.”
The word hit wrong.
My pulse jumped, fear snapping tight in my chest. My thoughts turned sharp and ugly all at once.
Selfish.
An alpha’s selfishness.
Did that mean—
Did he want—
The suspicion must have shown on my face, because his expression changed again. Something like pain flickered behind his eyes. He huffed a short laugh, humorless.
“Not like that,” he said. “Gods. Look at you—you’re already bracing.”
I didn’t relax.
“I told you I had lost someone,” he went on, voice lower now. “An omega. Long ago.”
I did remember him mentioning that.
“She trusted the system. Trusted me. I thought doing things by the book would keep her safe.” His jaw tightened. “It didn’t.”
His gaze dropped—not to my face, but to my hands. To the way they hovered instinctively over my stomach.
“When I look at you,” he said, quieter still, “I see her.”
My throat closed.
“This,” he added, gesturing faintly between us, “is me failing less badly than I did then. That’s the selfish part.”
The silence stretched.
Then his eyes sharpened again. Practical. Grim.
“And you should remember what I told you before,” he said. “About drawing an alpha’s attention.”
Cold crept down my spine.
His gaze dipped deliberately now—to my abdomen.
“Your scent’s changing,” he said. “Subtle. But it won’t stay that way. Not for long.”
My breath stuttered.
“They’ll notice,” he continued. “And if those bastards don’t force you to purge the pregnancy so Drakovian seed can take root…” His mouth thinned. “They’ll wait. Let you carry. Then they’ll separate you from the child.”
My vision swam.
“Worst case?” he added softly. “The baby presents omega.”
I felt sick.
“You need to think about the child,” Marek said. “Not just surviving. What kind of life they’d be born into here.”
Horror locked me in place.
My hand shot out before I could stop myself. I grabbed his forearm, fingers trembling, grip desperate.
“Is there truly no way out?” I whispered, voice hoarse from disuse.
For a moment, he seemed surprised to hear my voice and didn’t answer.
Then he gently but firmly pulled free of my grasp and rose to his feet.
“No,” he said. “If there were, I’d have taken it long ago.”
He paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, “I’m an alpha. I’ve seen more than enough.”
The admission settled heavy between us.
“And Lord Veras,” he continued, gaze narrowing thoughtfully, “has clearly taken an interest in you.”
My stomach dropped.
“You should use that,” he said. “While you can.”
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me alone with shaking hands, burning fear—and the weight of the truth he’d just laid bare.
I sank to the bed, hands clenching the rough sheets, mind spinning with everything I had just learned. Marek’s words echoed in my head: Lord Veras had noticed me.
Could I… use him? Approach him? Let a Drakovian alpha see me, draw him close, and survive long enough to protect my child? My stomach knotted at the thought. It felt like stepping into a trap, yet standing still wasn’t an option either.
I closed my eyes and drew a slow, steadying breath. Fear clawed at me, but beneath it, a cold clarity settled. If I was going to get through this—if my child was going to see Aelorian soil—then I had to play the game. Carefully. Cautiously. But play it I would.
My jaw tightened. I would do what I had to. For my child. For the life growing inside me. For me.
And if the Triune—or Drakovia—thought they could break me… they were wrong. I would bend, but I would not break. Not for them.
Not for anyone.
A weak, defiant smile curved my lips for the first time in a while.
Drakovia will rue the day.