Page 33 of Pregnant, Rejected and Exiled By the Lycan King (Forbidden Alpha Kings #45)
— · —
Rhea
An hour after Damon’s departure, a soft knock interrupted my spiral of panic. I’d been pacing the confines of my luxurious prison, mapping exits that wouldn’t open, calculating odds that didn’t favor me. The sound made me freeze mid-step, wondering what fresh hell awaited.
The maid who entered was an omega too, mid-twenties, with the kind of careful movements that spoke of years navigating alpha households.
Her uniform was impeccable, her honey-brown hair pulled back in a neat bun that exposed the unmarked column of her throat.
Pretty, in the understated way that wouldn’t threaten the lady of the house but might catch the master’s eye.
“I’m Sophia,” she said, as she set down a bunch of clean linens on the dressing table. “Alpha Damon requests your presence at dinner. I’ve brought a few things you could try on.”
The dress she produced from a garment bag was beautiful, deep green silk that caught the light like liquid emerald.
The empire waist would accommodate my bump while the flowing fabric would maintain elegance.
Designer, definitely, with the kind of careful construction that whispered money in every stitch.
“Requests?” I laughed, the sound bitter as burnt coffee. “Is that what we’re calling commands now?”
Sophia’s expression stayed professionally neutral, but her scent carried sympathy like an undertone of lavender beneath standard omega sweetness. She approached with the dress, movements efficient but gentle. “May I help you change?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. She helped me out of my dress with a tact that pretended not to notice how worn the fabric was, how many times it had been washed. Her hands were steady as she adjusted the new dress, smoothing silk over my bump with professional efficiency.
Like a prized breeding mare being prepared for show.
“The Lycan King hasn’t been well,” Sophia said quietly as she fastened the hidden zipper. “Since you... left.”
I caught her eyes in the mirror, something sharp twisting in my chest. “And you would know how he’s been? Personally?”
The question came out more accusatory than intended, jealousy coating each word like poison. Had she warmed his bed while I was barely surviving? Had he sought comfort in willing omega arms while I scraped together rent money and rationed prenatal vitamins?
Sophia’s lips twitched, fighting back what might have been a smile. “He is not that bad, Ms. Thornback.”
The non-answer was an answer enough. My hands clenched in the silk fabric, claws threatening to emerge and shred this beautiful dress along with my composure.
Of course he’d had others. Why would the Lycan King sleep alone when willing omegas filled his house?
When I was conveniently banished and presumed guilty?
“How wonderful for him,” I managed through gritted teeth.
Sophia stepped back, surveying her work. The dress transformed me from desperate exile to someone who might belong in these halls. Almost. If you didn’t look too close at my rough hands or the defensive hunch to my shoulders.
“He never took anyone to his bed,” she said suddenly, the words rushed like a confession. “Not once. We all thought... well. He barely slept, barely ate. Nathan said he spent most nights in wolf form, running the borders like a guard instead of a king.”
I didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to know that he’d suffered too, that the bond had tortured him the way it had tortured me. It was easier when he was the villain, clear-cut and simple.
“Shall we go?” Sophia asked gently. “It’s better not to be late.”
The dining room hosted a small gathering, pack advisors I recognized from my father’s work, a few department heads, all carefully selected witnesses to whatever Damon had planned. They’d been talking when we entered, but conversation died like someone had cut its throat.
I entered with Nathan escorting me, feeling every eye track to my prominent bump. The dress did its job perfectly, making my pregnancy impossible to ignore. The deep green brought out my eyes while the empire waist emphasized exactly why I was here.
Damon stood at the head of the table, and for a moment our eyes met.
Something flickered in his gaze, hunger, regret, possessiveness, before he shuttered it behind alpha control.
He looked better than he had this afternoon, freshly showered and changed into a charcoal suit that emphasized his broad shoulders.
Every inch the Lycan King, except for the shadows beneath his eyes that makeup couldn’t quite hide.
“You all remember Rhea Thornback,” he said, voice carrying casual authority as if my presence required no more explanation than the weather.
“Hard to forget,” Advisor Jensen muttered under his breath, just loud enough to carry.
They’re all wondering why I’m not dead or imprisoned, I realized as I took my seat at Damon’s right. The position of honor that felt more like a target, exposed to every stare and whispered speculation.
The meal proceeded with stilted conversation.
These people remembered me as the accused murderer, the omega who’d supposedly killed their prince in a heat-fueled rage.
Now I sat among them, belly round with the next generation of Kildares, eating off china that cost more than I’d made in three months.
The cognitive dissonance played across their faces in micro-expressions of confusion and resentment.
Damon seemed oblivious to the tension, discussing pack business with his advisors as if this was perfectly normal.
Territory disputes with the Riverside pack.
Trade agreements that needed renewal. Border patrol reports that suggested increased rogue activity.
All of it conducted while I sat beside him like a ghost at the feast, present but not participating.
“The construction on the north clinic should be complete by spring,” Director Barnes reported, carefully not looking at me. “The omega wing will have separate facilities as requested.”
“Good,” Damon approved. “Dr. Mira has agreed to oversee…”
He was playing house. Pretending I belonged here, that he hadn’t personally carved me out of his life and thrown me away like garbage. The food turned to ash in my mouth as I realized this was all performance. But for whose benefit?
Between the main course and dessert, Damon stood. The movement commanded instant attention, conversations dying mid-word as everyone turned to their Lycan King. Power radiated from him in waves that made even the other alphas at the table shift uncomfortably.
“Let me clarify the situation,” he began, voice carrying the kind of authority that brooked no argument. “Rhea Thornback is here under my protection due to her pregnancy. She is carrying my heir.”
The acknowledgment sent ripples through the room. Several advisors exchanged loaded glances. Jensen’s face went carefully blank. They’d suspected, of course, but confirmation from the Lycan King himself was different. Official.
“However,” Damon continued, and that single word made my stomach drop, “she is here as a guest with certain... restrictions.”
“She will not leave the compound without an escort. She will not have unsupervised communication with anyone outside these walls. Anyone who assists her in leaving will face punishment as if they’d committed treason against the crown itself.”
He was drawing the cage lines publicly, ensuring everyone understood my status. Not mate, because he had already severed that bond. Not even a pack member; I had no standing in the hierarchy. Just a womb with legs, contained until I’d served my purpose.
“Are we clear on the arrangements?” His gaze swept the table, alpha dominance ensuring compliance.
“Crystal clear,” came the chorus of affirmatives, some more enthusiastic than others.
“And if I refuse these ‘arrangements’?” The words escaped before wisdom could stop them, my voice cutting through the murmured agreements like a blade.
Silence fell like a hammer. Every eye turned to me, then to Damon, waiting to see how he’d handle this defiance. His jaw tightened, but his voice remained level when he spoke.
“Then you’ll find your accommodations become significantly less comfortable. The child you carry needs proper nutrition, medical care, safety. I’m providing all of that. Your cooperation is expected in return.”
The threat was velvet-wrapped but unmistakable. Comply or face consequences. Submit or suffer. The same choice he’d given me the night he rejected me, bend to his will or be broken by it.
Everyone now knew that I was his captive breeder, I thought, bile rising in my throat. The humiliation was complete, witnessed and sanctioned by pack leadership.
“Understood,” I managed, the word tasting like defeat.
“Excellent.” Damon sat back down as if he hadn’t just publicly declared me a prisoner. “Now, who wants dessert?”
The meal continued with forced normalcy, but I barely tasted the elaborate chocolate soufflé someone placed before me.
I endured another thirty minutes before Damon finally signaled the meal’s end.
Nathan appeared at my elbow immediately, ready to escort me back to my cell.
As I stood, Damon’s hand caught my wrist, not hard, but firm enough to stop me.
“This is for your safety,” he said quietly, pitched for my ears alone. “You have to understand that.”
“I understand perfectly,” I replied, meeting his gaze with all the fury I couldn’t voice at dinner.
“You’ve made your position crystal clear.
I’m an inconvenient problem to be managed until this child is born.
Then what, Damon? Will you take it and banish me again?
Or will you keep me locked up forever to avoid another scandal? ”
Something flickered in his eyes, pain, maybe, or guilt, but he released my wrist without answering. Of course he did. Lycan Kings didn’t explain themselves to their imprisoned breeding stock.
The guards with Nathan escorted me back through halls that felt more like a gauntlet now. Every servant we passed knew my status. Every guard understood their orders. I was the omega who’d murdered a prince, now carrying royal babies, kept under lock and key for the good of the pack.
Back in my room, I stood at the window watching the compound’s lights flicker on as darkness fell. Somewhere out there, Wayne and April were probably worried sick. My parents, surviving in the outbacks, had no idea their daughter had been reclaimed by the man who’d destroyed their lives.
Tomorrow would bring new battles, new humiliations, new reminders of my status. But tonight, I allowed myself to mourn the last shreds of dignity I’d lost at that dinner table, witnessed by people who’d ensure I never forgot my place in this house of wolves.