Page 43 of Omega Forged (Hartlock Omegas #2)

The gala was being held at the arts center and the entryway opened into a cavernous gallery with floor to ceiling windows on one side.

Flowing blue fabric was draped from the ceiling, and it fluttered with gentle movement above the crowd.

The polished wood floors reflected the subtle, low lighting.

Groups of people milled around us. Their conversation was a low buzz through the room, adding to the soft music of a pianist on a platform. I looked at Pan and he shrugged.

“My parents are expecting me to play tonight. This was my little fuck you. They can watch someone else.”

Servers glided through the crowd, carrying trays of drinks and an array of tiny, bite-sized foods. I couldn’t stomach anything, even if I tried. There was a gallery wall with wildlands era artefacts cordoned off. More security, dressed in dark tuxes, bordered the precious history.

Pan grabbed my hand as if intending to spirit me through the milling crowd, but Ajax clamped me to his side with a sharp look.

“Behave, please. Tonight is about the pack. Don’t get carried away by him.”

Pan’s neck turned mottled red, and he gave a stiff nod. Embarrassment or shame? I couldn’t tell, because the comment made him close off like a wall of steel.

“Don’t worry, brother, I won’t ruin everything for you all. Do I have permission to say hello to CJ? I promise I’ll come right back.” Pan pressed his hands together in mock prayer.

Ajax’s jaw ticked with frustration as Pan strode off through the crowd. But he smiled evenly as he scanned the room. My fingers crept around his arm.

“Who’s CJ?” I whispered.

Ajax couldn’t mask his grimace. He took my arm and guided me through the crowd. Chatter sprang up behind us and I tried to quell the uncomfortable ache in my stomach. I belonged here, no matter what my mind tried to scream at me.

“He’s an old friend of Pan’s. Brings out the worst in him, but Pan won’t hear a bad word about him. I’m tired of having the same argument.”

I spotted a head of thick dark hair, and my knees buckled at the sight.

Ajax chuckled under his breath, propelling me forward into Walden’s hold.

I was so intent on getting to him I didn’t notice the way the crowd around Walden stiffened and made a shield behind us.

My arms coiled around his neck, and I tilted my head up.

“I missed you,” I sighed, flushing as Walden gave me a perfunctory peck on the lips.

He gripped my arms and moved me away with a slight frown. He was wearing a gray, double-breasted suit with a maroon tie. Walden had swept his black hair back from his forehead, and he looked every inch a Baylark.

I had to convince myself I belonged in this room. He didn’t question it at all.

“I’m surprised you let your omega act so freely.” A clipped voice made my cheeks redden.

Walden stroked an arm down my back. “Your highness, this is Tully Hartlock, the direct descendent of Esta Hartlock and also, my omega.” His pride washed over me, not removing, but mollifying the embarrassment of his tepid welcome.

Beefy security guards formed a circle around us and blocked out Ajax.

The High Prince of Astaly was standing right next to me.

He fussed with his long white jacket. The buttons on his golden waistcoat gleamed with shimmering diamonds. A white silk cravat covered his throat. It was ostentatious, if old-fashioned.

With my champagne dress, I looked more like his date, and I crossed my arms before returning them to my side. How was one supposed to address a prince? He had a heavy brow and sweeping brass locks. Enough sun for color. He appraised me slowly, and my skin prickled.

“Ah, the one I came all this way to see. An omega of importance.”

Came all this way to see? What did he mean by that?

“I promise you, I’m the furthest thing from it,” I blurted out.

The second I opened my mouth, the high prince flinched, his eyebrows raised beyond his foppish fringe. Walden’s hand stroked my back again. This time, it was firmer. Like a warning. The churning in my stomach intensified.

“If an omega spoke to me without permission in Astaly, I’d cane them for impertinence. I know Hartlocks are the closest thing you have to royalty, and for that, I will forgive the insult.” The prince didn’t address me at all, his gaze pinned on Walden.

The blatant snub stung. My tongue lay in fallowed shock, chastised beyond words. Walden slipped an arm around my waist and clung to the dip in my hip.

“We appreciate your leniency, your highness.”

My stomach blistered as I whipped a look at Walden. Your leniency?

“This isn’t Astaly, your highness, and omegas fought hard for their rights. That’s what this gala is about, after all.” I disentangled myself from Walden.

“What Tully means is—” Walden let out a short, tense laugh, but I cut him off.

“He heard me.”

The prince reared his head back. Some of the haughtiness faded and the corner of his lip kicked up. The surrounding security bristled with silent tension until the prince laughed.

“You must give me time to adjust. I am unused to being challenged by a mere omega.”

Mere omega?

I swallowed hard at the sharp insight into his world. How would the prince react if he knew I’d been saving money via sex work to sneak into his country? What world would I have been sucked into if I’d made the leap?

“What of your own omega, your highness?” Walden asked, trying to move past my rudeness.

The prince looked behind him, and I noticed a diminutive figure hidden behind the prince’s broad back.

She wore a rose gold silk dress with a square-cut bodice and cap sleeves.

It looked like something out of a historical romance novel, but she wore it well.

Golden clips adorned her brunette curls.

She froze as the attention shifted to her and kept her gaze trained on the smooth wooden floor.

The prince waved a careless hand in her direction. “I am somewhat fond of this one. She was a prize I claimed for myself.”

“I see,” Walden said in a faint voice.

“Claimed? That sounds horrible.” I let out a choked noise and caught the venomous glare the omega shot the prince when he turned his back.

The omega and I shared a look, a millisecond, but enough for me to know her spirit wasn’t tamed. She was chewing on her bitterness, eking out strength and biding her time.

“Your omega has a very direct gaze.” The prince took a sip of his drink and stared down his sharp nose at me.

My cheeks were hot, but I refused to look away from the prince. I hoped it made him uncomfortable, and power surged through my veins as he rolled his shoulders. Like he was trying to brush off my stare.

“In Starhaven, it’s considered rude to exclude someone from conversation because of their Designation,” I said.

Let’s not mention free will.

“From childhood, Astaly trains its omegas to respect their providers.”

“You have different customs in Astaly, but I could never diminish Tully to her omega status. I treasure and value her beyond measure,” Walden added.

It was a soft sort of chastisement. A mouse to a bull, showing teeth but still frightened of getting stomped on. Astaly was triple the size of Starhaven, with a powerful fleet and military presence. They were our allies, for now. Walden risked insulting the prince for me.

It was the least he could do.

The high prince sniffed, but a tightness froze his lips.

“Aren’t customs funny things? I can’t imagine being so free with my emotions. I’m sure we will have more cause to speak when you announce your plans, Mr. Baylark.” He paused, a slight edge in his voice. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hartlock.”

His gaze fell on me with the weight of an anvil. When I refused to break the intense stare, a faint smile snuck across his face.

“A rare pleasure indeed,” he mused, flattening his palm against his omega’s back.

She didn’t argue, gaze pinned to the ground once more. The guards melted after them, maintaining the circle of protection around their prince. Walden ducked his head and kissed my forehead.

“You are probably the only omega in the world who has ever spoken back to the High Prince of Astaly.”

“What was that? You—I—”

Walden shook his head and kissed me again, more forcefully. “You were braver than me. I’m sorry, but I’m going to need his support if I run for mayor.”

“I see.”

I didn’t. Yet my bravery extended to princes only, it seemed, not gorgeous alphas who felt way out of my league. The crowd encroached on us, and I pushed down the discordant feelings in my stomach. Now was not the time to cause a scene.

I thought of the sullen omega, painted pretty and perfect.

She was brave too, in a different way. But Lloyd interrupted my thoughts by hugging me, with Ajax following close behind.

I melted into Lloyd’s solid embrace, squeezing him tight until the tension in my body melted away. He had that effect on me.

“Honey girl, you look gorgeous,” Lloyd breathed, and he brushed a kiss against my cheek.

I wanted to snatch my beta back, take his lips. He grumbled about my lack of scent, burrowing his head into my hair.

“Ajax already said the same thing.” I bumped my shoulder against him. “I survived a prince. I’m feeling good.”

“You’re everything,” Walden growled against my ear. His fingers bruised as he squeezed my scent glands. As if he could impart a scent through sheer force of will. Did he feel guilty for not standing up for me more?

“Are you alright?” Ajax cast a look up and down my body until my heart squeezed.

“Worried about me?”

“Just making sure you haven’t decided to go to Astaly after all.” He smirked as I shook my head.

After meeting their prince and hearing the way he spoke about omegas? There was nothing over the sea for me except more subjugation. I was determined to make it work with my pack. Even after the strange moment with Walden.

My pack .

Thrill shot down my spine. Like it was gold, bronze, something that would last the test of time. Even shrouded with nerves, the glow remained.