Page 24

The meal progressed with the routine like at breakfast, with bowls being passed, quiet conversations flowing around shared platters. Naya found herself enjoying it. Nnimi’s artwork lay carefully folded beside her bowl, making her smile whenever she looked at it.

As the food disappeared and the children grew restless, some began to disperse.

A few women gathered the little ones for bedtime rituals, while most lingered over the last of their tea.

The dining area became quieter, and many lowered their voices for deeper conversations.

Oshrun settled back against her cushions, her hands cradling a ceramic cup of steaming brew as she explained to Naya about the way they navigate the districts.

Naya studied the faces around her—women who had built lives of purpose and meaning within these canyon walls.

Yet as she watched them, she couldn’t shake the sense that something was missing from their carefully constructed world.

The thought of Akoro flickered through her mind unbidden, the way he held her, touched her, his absolute devotion despite everything.

These women had chosen safety over such complications, but at what cost?

With the space more intimate now, Naya asked the question that had been lingering in her mind. “Do you not feel you’re missing out without Alphas?” she asked Oshrun.

The few women nearest to them glanced in their direction, their expressions guarded. Naya instantly sensed this was a conversation they’d had before, perhaps many times.

A young woman a few seats down from her leaned forward, her dark eyes sharp with challenge.

Her rich, reddish-brown skin glowed in the golden light from the lanterns, and although her delicate, heart-shaped face suggested a girl on the cusp of womanhood, she embodied the maturity of an older women.

Her dark hair was fused into simple locks rather than the elaborate braids favored by most of the other women, and tied back with ruthless practicality.

“Our safety is more important, no matter what good things or... whatever Alphas are supposed to give us,” the girl said.

Her tone wasn’t particularly hostile, but carried the fervent certainty of someone who’d been raised with absolute conviction in a singular truth.

“We’ve kept ourselves safe for so long without them. Why risk it now?”

Naya watched the girl’s movements—the confident set of her shoulders, the way her hands gestured with practiced precision.

Her attire was different from the others; beneath her flowing garments, Naya could make out the outline of a leather harness crossing her chest. A warrior.

The realization stirred an instinctive admiration in Naya.

There was always something compelling about meeting another Omega who claimed her own strength in this way.

“You’re arguing against something you haven’t experienced yet,” Naya said softly. The point felt sharpened considering her own devastation. She knew exactly what they were missing, and exactly what it cost.

The young warrior visibly hardened, her spine straightening, shoulders squaring. “We don’t put ourselves in danger just because we’re curious about things we don’t even need. It’s not worth it.”

Naya let a small shrug roll through her shoulders, the gesture deliberately casual, hiding the turmoil beneath. “In my world, Omegas abandoned this kind of thinking years ago. The doctrine your community was built on no longer exists.”

Her words sent a subtle ripple through the gathered women. Heads turned, conversations died mid-sentence, and the very air thickened with sudden, suffocating attention.

“Why?” The question came from an older woman whose silver-threaded braids caught the light like spun metal, her voice soft yet penetrating enough to slice through the canyon’s ambient sounds. It wasn’t the elder Ttela from the assembly, but she was just as majestic.

“There were multiple reasons,” Naya said to her, “but one that has nothing to do with personal pleasure” —she cast a pointed look at the young warrior “—is that the Alpha and Omega dynamics face extinction if they stop producing children together.”

Confusion filtered through the expressions of the women.

“What do you mean?” Another woman spoke up, this one older than the warrior but younger than Naya, her brow creased with genuine confusion and dawning alarm.

Before Naya could respond, the young warrior cut in, her voice sharp.

“It doesn’t matter why,” she said, palms flat against the table as she leaned forward.

“We can’t let them make us into slaves, not any of them.

Not the Alphas or the Sy Dynasty.” Her eyes swept across the others at the table.

“They still rule Onn Kkulma, don’t they?

They still have that palace where they used to chain up Omegas. ”

“Zhera.” The rebuke came swift and sharp from a red-headed woman perhaps in her fifties, her eyes holding depths of wisdom and bone-deep weariness.

Her voice carried the kind of quiet authority that could stop arguments with a whisper.

“We all know your position. We’ve all debated this countless times.

” Her tone remained gentle but was edged with finality.

“But I want to hear what the princess has to say.” She turned to Naya, her gaze direct and unflinching.

“The last news we had from the Known Lands came before most of us were born. If times have moved on, and things have changed, we have a right to know.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table. Most nodded, though a few—Zhera’s among them—looked uncomfortable or openly annoyed.

Naya glanced toward Oshrun, expecting her to interject, but to her surprise the leader watching with neutrality, her expression deliberately blank. She gestured that Naya should continue.

Drawing a steadying breath that did nothing to calm the tension coiled in her chest, she spoke into the waiting silence.

“The hidden community that Kaharine came from was discovered and disbanded over twenty-five years ago, just before I was born. It was discovered the leaders there had been engaging in their own kind of abuse. The Omegas left their compound and rejoined our society.”

Gasps erupted around the table, eyes widening in shock. The women stared at her, falling completely, unnaturally silent.

“Since then,” Naya continued, “Omegas have lived openly as full citizens in the Known Lands. Most of those from the original community now reside in a settlement under the protection of the Lox Palace, and are honored and celebrated as treasured members of society. The entire Known Lands welcomed their return with joy.”

The impact of her words moved through the women; subtle shifts in posture, exchanged glances, disbelief mingled with cautious curiosity.

“Some Omegas choose complete independence, building rich lives without any interest in having an Alpha,” she explained.

“Others who want to find a mate enter a careful pairing process, overseen and protected by the throne, where they meet compatible Alphas under controlled circumstances. Sometimes they discover their true mate, other times they choose to bond with someone they believe they can build a meaningful life with.”

Her fingers tapped the table’s surface as she spoke, thinking about her own failed pairing attempts, and the mate she’d found only to discover she could never be with him.

The scent of the canyon, earthy, with hints of minerals and the freshness of running water, mingled with the food as she paused, gathering her thoughts.

“The success rate for finding true mates in my land isn’t like what you had here before the devastation,” she said quietly, her gaze drifting across the women.

“That is truly impressive and shouldn’t be ignored.

But the Omegas are largely happy. They’re protected, valued, free to choose their own paths.

Occasionally, some come to my mother for counsel or refuge if they face difficulties with their Alpha, but those cases have become increasingly rare as our society has learned and evolved. ”

“What does this have to do with Alphas and Omegas dying out?” Zhera’s voice cut through the air like an arrow, her annoyance burning bright.

Naya met her challenging stare and then looked around at the other women, taking in their varied expressions of confusion and growing unease. “Do you know what a true Alpha is? What a true Omega is?”

Blank stares met her question, heads shaking with subtle, unconscious movements around the table, and the silence stretched.

“A true Alpha,” Naya said, “is born from Alpha and Omega parents. And true Omegas are the same—both parents must be an Alpha and Omega. When one in the couple is a Beta, the dynamic of the children, if they’re an Alpha or Omega, is a little weaker.

With each generation, if Betas are part of the line, the dynamic of any Alpha and Omega children will continue to weaken. ”

The canyon seemed to swallow her words as the women stared back at her in tense silence.

“Eventually, after enough generations of dilution, children may not present as Alphas or Omegas at all, even if their parents did.”

Nothing moved as the women contemplated her words, the air thick with the weight of this revelation.

“What is the real significance of that?” asked the red-haired woman who had defended Naya’s right to speak, her voice barely above a whisper but piercing the silence.

“True Alphas possess the Alpha traits stronger than other Alphas,” Naya explained. “And it’s the same with true Omegas. When the dynamics get diluted enough, those traits will vanish from society.”

“Did this happen in your land?” another woman asked.