Page 26 of The Runaway
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Out in the garden, Connor felt sweat dripping down his face as he hauled the latest crate of potatoes out to the entrance of the garden. The pumpkins were ripe, the carrots were being dug up, and a late crop of turnips would be ready in another week or two. The root vegetables would see them through the winter months, supplementing the estate’s plentiful supply of wheat for bread, the dried fruits from summer and the eggs that had been pickled in large buckets of water and lime. Add to that the occasional sheep that would be slaughtered and they had a veritable feast on their hands.
For the first time in his life, Connor actually found himself enjoying the work. The crops were sorted quickly while they worked, any bruised or damaged vegetables swiftly sent off to the kitchen to be eaten first, while the better quality ones would be stored in the root cellar. The clear sense of organisation and forward planning was eye opening, as was the diligent way the omegas applied themselves to the work. There was little in the way of complaining, and Connor got the feeling that all of them knew their hard work would be rewarded when they were enjoying full bellies in the depths of winter, instead of fighting the gnawing pains of hunger.
Every now and then as he worked, the unwelcome thought intruded that he was never going to benefit from the fruits of his labour. His master would come for him. He would be taken home, and if he wasn’t killed, then he would be back to the harsh work and fierce punishments.
But the knowledge only made him work harder. Perhaps if Antoine saw what a good slave he could be, the alpha would make an effort to keep him hidden for longer. Perhaps he’d last a few months here. Maybe even a year. And if he stayed long enough, maybe his old master would eventually forget about him and stop looking.
It was the most absurd sort of wishful thinking, and Connor knew he was only setting himself up for disappointment. But the alternative was drowning in his own pain and sorrow, and for the first time in his life, he was starting to see that there was something worth living for after all. It was a small hope, fresh and new and raw, but he clung to it, praying to any god that might be listening that he could stay here another day, another week, and that somehow, a solution to his unsolvable problem might eventually be found.
As he set down the crate and picked up a new, empty one, Dante came strolling over to the garden. He looked around for Cirroc, supervising the sorting of the carrots in the middle of one of the rows, and headed over to him. “Cirroc? Antoine said he’d like three of the oldest hens slaughtered and stewed. They won’t be laying much next season and there’s no point keeping them over the winter. Could you see to it this afternoon?”
“No problem,” Cirroc said. “Just as soon as we’ve finished here. There’s a few of the new chicks from this year that are roosters. Do you want them slaughtered as well?”
“Not yet. Once we move the chickens into the barn, we’ll slaughter them then.”
Cirroc nodded, and Dante strolled away again, message successfully delivered. Connor watched him go, a look of consternation on his face.
“Something wrong?” Adalene asked him, dumping a handful of potatoes into the crate.
“No, I just…” Connor hesitated. The ingrained instinct to avoid criticising the estate was strong, but so was his curiosity about the odd way this place was run. “Is that normal?” he asked, dropping his voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Dante’s an omega, but he just gives orders to the head beta? And Cirroc listens?”
Adalene shrugged. “Dante’s bonded,” she said, as if that explained everything.
“But he’s still an omega.”
“That’s the privilege that comes with being bonded. He’d never defy Antoine’s orders, but he gets a lot of free rein in making decisions. There are limits, obviously. If he suddenly announced that Cirroc was to sell one of the horses, then Cirroc would check with Antoine directly, but for small things, it’s assumed that what Dante wants is the same as what Antoine wants. At the end of the day, we’re all working for the same goal.” That being a well managed and prosperous estate.
Connor shoved his fork back into the soil, carefully lifting the next lot of potatoes. One had a black spot on it where it had started to rot, so he tossed it into the crate for the kitchen, then placed the rest of them neatly into the storage crate.
“What about if you were bonded with Niles?” he asked. “Would you get the same privileges that Dante gets?”
Adalene blushed. “Not quite. Some of them, yes. I’d move into Niles’s room and get to eat meals with the alphas. But it’s different for Dante, being bonded to the master of the house.”
“But Niles could be master of the house one day.”
“Probably not. He’s first alpha at the moment, but Dante’s the breeding omega. If one of his and Antoine’s sons is an alpha, that child will become first alpha, and then inherit the estate after Antoine dies. And Dante’s had three boys already, so the chances of one of them being an alpha are pretty high. But even so, it would be nice. You know, to be special, to not have to worry about ever being sold.”
“Is that why you want to bond with him?”
Adalene looked flustered for a moment. “No,” she said, a little more sharply than Connor had expected. “I love him. He’s a good man. He’s kind and generous, and he was the one who came up with the idea to build the pigsty. He has a good head for business. And he’s had his eye on me ever since he presented as an alpha. It’s nice to feel wanted. That’s all.”
That was a sentiment Connor could relate to. To be wanted and valued was a heady sensation. He thought back to when Jackelyn had forcibly befriended him and felt a wave of nostalgia. He briefly wondered what had happened to her, but then pushed the idea away. He would never see her again, and pondering all the unknowns would only bring back the sorrow he’d felt at her loss.
“I don’t think I’d ever want to bond with someone,” he said to Adalene.
She looked up at him in surprise. “Really? Most omegas think it’s the best thing that could happen to them. To have an alpha who really cares about them, to have a safe and secure future.”
Connor shook his head. “It just seems like another layer of control to me. Being stuck with someone you can never get away from, being with them every night, instead of sleeping in your own bed. Always having to make decisions based on what they’d want. It sounds exhausting.”
Again, Adalene seemed flustered. “But the whole point is that you’d bond with someone that you want to spend time with. And that you’d want the same things they want.”
“Do you honestly think Dante always wants the same things as Antoine?” Connor asked. “What if he wanted to stop being breeding omega? What if he disagreed with something about the way the estate was run?”
“Well, yes, but… he’s still an omega,” Adalene said, sounding confused. “He’s never going to get to do exactly what he wants, no matter who he’s bonded to.”
“And if that’s the case, then what’s the point of being bonded at all? You still have to do what your alpha says, but if you’re bonded, you have to pretend to be happy about it. It sounds stupid to me.”