Page 3 of Arranged Bullied Mate

My parents knew I would never agree to their absurd plan, so they exercised the only bit of control they had over me: they took Sophie, my beautiful two-year-old daughter, from my room while she was sleeping and threatened to kill her if I didn’t go through with it.

My daughter. Ronan’s daughter.

I have no intention of killing him. How could I, anyway? He’s an alpha, I’m an omega. Even if I could get close to him, I couldn’t overpower him; he’s twice my height, and he dwarfs me in every way. I would die in the attempt—not that my parents care.

I have no intention of even trying. My parents are supposed to be waiting on the edge of town to see what happens. They told me they still had friends in the pack who would let them know. I’m not sure if that’s true, but I can’t think about it right now. The moment this farce is over, I will slip away. I already know a faster route back to the border. I can beat them to the house and grab Sophie.

It’s not much of a plan, but it’s all I’ve got.

I mentally run through my plan, trying to calm my racing heart as I think about how scared Sophie must be. She’s so young, but already knows to be afraid of my parents. I shield her from them as much as possible, which is easier since they banished me to the outbuilding when I was pregnant. Althoughcold, at least it meant I could keep out of their way, keep Sophie out of their way. I curse myself for not escaping earlier, but I had felt so scared and unsure after her birth, so alone. Where would I have gone with an infant?

But now we have no choice. I will rescue Sophie, and we will go far, far away from here. I just need the ceremony to wrap up, get off the stage, and beat my parents back to Sophie. I only pray they’ve waited at the drop-off point like they said they would.

I allow the other females to crowd me out on the stage; I have no interest in pushing my way to the front, and they would never let me, anyway. Anyone who thinks omegas are all meek pushovers hasn’t seen them when the possibility of mating with an alpha is on the table. I ignore the knocks and deliberate elbows to my ribs—there’s nothing they can do to me that my parents haven’t already done, or worse.

I deliberately tune out the elder’s speech—none of this is for me. Ronan is not for me, and I refuse to let myself even look at him, even though I felt his presence the moment he arrived. I stupidly allow my mind to drift back to when I’d wait in the forest, knowing he was coming for me. I’d feel his approach long before I saw him. Although it was barely three years ago, it feels much longer. I was so young then, and so naive. I didn’t fully understand what the heat cycles would feel like; I didn’t know what it was to attract an alpha or lose my inhibitions like that. It was intoxicating. It was also a lie—what began as fucking quickly became so much more, but I was fooling myself if I ever thought his feelings went beyond the pheromones.

I thought we had a connection. He seemed so open and caring with me, so different from his usual demeanor as the alpha’s son, always stoic in front of the pack. He was funny, we’d walk in the forest together laughing until our stomachs hurt. Itfeltreal. But when my parents were revealed as traitors, he said nothing. No one knew we’d been together. He was the alpha’s son, and I knew he couldn’t stand up for a member of a traitor’s family.

Standing here, knowing I have his daughter but nothing else, only hardens my resolve to protect her. She is all I have in this world. I tell myself I won’t even look at him, I won’t make today about him at all. This is about Sophie.

But, as the elder drones on, I feel his gaze burning my skin, and it’s impossible not to look up. As I do, our eyes meet, and I’m hit by a thousand memories all at once. The bite of his hands on my hips, the force of his thrusts, the heat of his breath on my neck. I feel my body sway, but I can’t look away. He looks good, too good. His dark hair is longer now, his shoulders impossibly broader, and a hint of a tattoo snakes from beneath his Henley shirt. I don’t want to be like the other omegas, I’m not here for that. But I feel utterly powerless beneath his watchful gaze.

The omegas’ whispers and nervous excitement only increase around me as the ceremony approaches the moment of choice. They jostle me around, each vying for a spot at the front of the stage. Glancing behind me, I see how easy it will be to simply climb down and escape the moment he chooses, and the crowd is distracted.

The thought of him choosing someone else makes me feel nauseous for a moment, but I push it away—it’s just the hormones. He’s been no doubt choosing other females every other week since I left without so much as a backward glance.

“Ronan, are you ready?” The elder asks him, and I see Ronan grimace slightly, but he still doesn’t look away.

Finally, he nods and begins a slow, deliberate walk toward the omegas. The excitement between them reaches an almost unbearable fever pitch, and the collective pheromones make my brain feel foggy.

I need to focus on Sophie,I think to myself, attempting to drop to the back of the crowd for respite, but when I look up, I notice he’s advancing straight toward me. A couple of the other omegas appear to have noticed, too, and watch in almost wide-eyed disgust as he reaches into the crowd, ignoring all the beautiful women around me, and grabs my wrist.

Oh, Goddess, no.It can’t be.

Perhaps he’s simply going to throw me out, call me a traitor’s daughter, and banish me from the ceremony? I’m technically allowed to attend, but it’s also at the alpha’s discretion. My heart races at the thought, shame already coloring my cheeks, but at least I’d be able to leave quickly.

“I choose her,” Ronan declares, and my heart almost stutters to a complete stop. The crowd falls strangely silent for a second before erupting in a wave of discontent.

“Enough,” the elder calls out, waving his cane for order. The crowd quietens, and he turns to Ronan, who is still gripping my wrist like a vice. “Why her?”

His eyes are mesmerizing, but he fixes me with a cold stare before turning to the elder, his grip tightening painfully as he shrugs. “My wolf wants to breed her,” he replies nonchalantly. “Her family history doesn’t matter; she has no power. But my wolf thinks she will breed strong pups, that’s good enough for me. I don’t need or want anything more.”

A few murmurs of agreement filter through the crowd, but I also hear scoffs from the other omegas, and a few heads shake in the crowd. I instinctively lower my head and try tobite back my tears. I have to get out of here—his words about breeding only hit harder knowing the danger Sophie is in.

Shame overwhelms me as I feel the eyes on my body, assessing me, obviously trying to work out what on earth Ronan’s wolf sees in someone like me. I know I’m not as tall and athletic as the other she-wolves. I’m short and curvy, and because I only just stopped breastfeeding, my breasts are still large. I’ve no doubt the pack was expecting him to choose one of the other, more beautiful omegas. So was I.

How am I going to escape now?

Chapter 3 - Ronan

I should have anticipated the uproar, really. Memories run deep and long in Starcreek. But rather critically, I really don’t care.

Perhaps I could have made more of a show of considering the other omegas, but my wolf and I were both so stunned by her appearance that I was compelled into action. I didn’t even see the other omegas; they all faded into nothing as I zeroed in on her.

Instead of stepping forward as any other omega would have done, she almost shrank backward. I had to grab her and physically pull her from the throng. Even now, my grip remains firm on her arm as I sense the instinct within her to run. I just don’t know why. Isn’t this what she wants?

For her to be chosen when her family has been cast out is surely what she was hoping for by coming here. It’s also the reason this is turning into a massive headache. I briefly tuned out Elder McCann reading me the list of prerequisites for the luna, although he’s in the middle of reluctantly admitting there is nothing to stop me from choosing a traitor’s daughter, however unsavory that choice may be.