Omega’s Gamble by Claire Cullen
Chapter Two
No matterwhat way Raine sliced it, it did not look good for his chances. They were down to one last large kingdom, the kingdom of the Trident. This year they had five eligible princes, of which two were considered more or less taken. Which meant three were left. One first and two second princes. He’d have to be very lucky to win the affections of one of the three, especially with the competition still on board the airship.
Milo curled up next to him in the small antechamber, a steaming cup of tea in his hands.
“You look glum.”
“I’m doomed.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s true. There are fifteen unmatched omegas on board, excluding me, and none of them is the black sheep of the family.”
“You’re no black sheep.”
“Tell that to my father.”
“Is it really that bad?”
Milo stared at him with big, soulful eyes, and Raine almost couldn’t take the omega’s innocent disbelief.
“The kingdom of the Trident is fastidious with their choices. There are no love matches made there. They won’t look at me once, let alone twice. They’ll just walk right by.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Have you read their geopolitical update? This year it’s all about boosting trade with the east and north. Bringing the black sheep of the kingdom of Ludinia into the fold is not on the table.”
“They’re not the only kingdom left.”
They were the only one of any substance, who had enough eligible alphas that an omega like him might just slip past anyone’s notice until it was too late. But the head of the Trident court was eagle-eyed. He’d take one look at Raine and know exactly what he was up to.
“I guess it’s a life of silence and servitude for me.”
He knew he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t help it. There was no way out that he could see.
Milo sat forward, looking earnest and compassionate, but before Raine was forced to hear whatever well-meaning words he was about to say, Deegan all but vaulted through the door.
“You’ll come with me, won’t you, Raine?”
Raine glanced at Milo who looked just as confused as he felt.
“Come with you where?”
“Stormshield.”
“Our next refueling stop? Why would you want to get out there? It doesn’t sound very hospitable.”
After Raine, Deegan was the least eligible omega on board. His parents had endured quite a few scandals in recent years. Thankfully, royal memories were short-lived, and his family wasn’t averse to him trying again. In a few years’ time, he’d probably make a good match. Of course, being young and impulsive, he was a little too impatient for that.
“Not the refueling stop, the kingdom.”
Raine blinked and reached for his tablet, pulling up their itinerary. “I think you’ve got your wires crossed. It says we’re stopping at Stormshield airstrip to refuel.”
“No, he’s right,” Milo piped up. “Stormshield is a kingdom.”
“Well, they’re not on the list. Maybe they don’t have anyone eligible.”
Deegan triumphantly thrust a second tablet into Raine’s hands.
“They have three first princes. All of age, all unmarried.”
Raine frowned at the screen, the details there in black and white.
“Then why aren’t we having a festival?”
“Oh, they hold one,” Deegan explained. “Every year. It’s just that…”
“No one ever gets off the ship,” Milo finished. “My brother told me about it.” Milo’s older brother had done his circuit two years previously.
It had to be some sort of trick or cosmic joke.
“Are you saying that there are three eligible royal alphas needing husbands, who’ve never married because no omega has ever bothered to get off the ship?”
“I guess…” Milo looked less than confident, though Deegan was nodding with unfounded certainty.
“Why?” There had to be a reason—an important one—why everyone stayed on board when the airship landed at Stormshield.
Deegan shrugged, and Milo looked thoughtful, but no answer was forthcoming. Well, it was a mystery, and Raine had nothing but time on his hands.
“I’ll go ask around.”
“Then you’ll join me?” Deegan bounced on his heels, watching him hopefully.
“Let me see what I can find out first.”
Two hours of careful poking and prodding later, and Raine wasn’t much the wiser. He’d gotten different answers from various people—Stormshield was ‘small, cold, and unfriendly’, they weren’t the ‘right kind’ of kingdom, the alphas were ‘uncultured and provincial’—but nothing of substance and certainly nothing by way of a big red flag that said ‘stay far, far away.’ He double-checked his father’s ultimatum, which the man had been kind enough to put in writing. There was nothing in it that precluded marriage to a Stormshield prince. Three alphas and a heck of a lot less competition—he liked those odds. Of course, he needed to keep it that way, so he brushed Deegan off whenever the omega asked about it and generally kept quiet, shushing Milo when he tried to bring it up again. Around the other omegas, he joined in conversation after conversation about the kingdom of the Trident, engaging in speculation, expressing idle hopes, anything to throw off the scent to his real target.
Finally, the morning came, and they touched down on Stormshield’s bare runway. A few omegas took a half-hearted look out the window but most didn’t bother leaving their seats or their beds. To them, this was just another stopover, an inconvenience on their way to marriage. Raine hoped, with any luck, this might be his way out.
Facilitator Glade was in a fractious mood that morning, which he hid behind an extra level of imperiousness.
“Now, refueling will take the better part of two hours. I know some of you might be keen to stretch your legs, but the environment outside is not conducive to that. Better to stay in here, where it’s warm and dry.”
“Uh, Facilitator Glade?”
Deegan raised a tentative hand.
“Yes, Prince Deegan.”
“I’d like to, um, be presented to the kingdom of Stormshield.”
Raine had never seen quite that look of barely concealed shock on Glade’s face before. Had he not been so invested in what happened next, he might have laughed.
“You… you want…”
“They’re on the registry.”
“Well, yes,” Glade said faintly, looking like he wanted to argue but was struggling to come up with a reason. “But it’s not really… We don’t normally… Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Deegan said. He shot Raine a pleading glance, which Raine pretended not to see. He had to play this cool. If he spoke out too soon, it would pique other people’s curiosity.
“I… see. Anyone else?”
Raine dug his nails into his palm, refusing to let himself look up, let alone open his mouth. He knew Deegan was still looking his way, hopeful as ever, but he just had to hold out a little longer.
“Very well. Get ready, Prince Deegan. I’ll make the necessary arrangements. I’m sure this won’t take long.”
Raine forced himself to wait for Deegan to leave and the chatter to bubble up around the room. The others were laughing and joking about Deegan, and not in a nice way.
“I bet the idiot doesn’t set one foot off the ship. What’s he thinking, going anywhere near those barbarians?”
Raine’s courage faltered a little at the words. Maybe this wasn’t a good plan. There could be something important he didn’t know, something he’d missed in his attempts to gather information. Maybe there was a very good reason no one ever got off the ship on this island.
But then he thought of what would happen if he didn’t. Being shipped off to the priory, stripped of his worldly possessions, separated from Ferno, having his head shaved and his life reduced to nothing more than mindless prayer and drudgery. That was death. This… this was the unknown. He’d take that over death any day.
Quietly, he slipped from the antechamber and ran to his room, pulling on his best tunic and grabbing his cloak. Then he all but ran to the main door, reaching it just as Facilitator Glade was lecturing Deegan most severely.
The facilitator frowned when he caught sight of him.
“Prince Raine?”
“Deegan shouldn’t go alone. I’ll accompany him.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is. And I want to.”
He slung his cloak over his shoulders and fastened it, fixing Glade with his most determined stare.
“Well, I can’t stop you,” Glade said. “But I strongly advise against it. I know you’re both anxious to make a good match, but this isn’t the way.”
“There’s no harm in going, though,” Deegan argued.
“No,” Glade said finally when he saw they weren’t going to back down. “I suppose there isn’t. Very well. Let’s proceed.”
He signaled to the guard, who opened the door and released the ramp. They waited a moment for it to extend fully, buffeted by a cold wind, and then they set off. At the bottom of the ramp, they paused to get their bearings. The wind whipped up, howling around them, an icy chill carried on it. Visibility was poor, but Raine could just make out an imposing stone castle ahead of them. To the right was the sea, waves crashing against the shore.
A gate opened in the castle wall, and a small delegation came out to meet them. Raine started walking, only to realize a few steps later that Deegan wasn’t keeping pace with him.
“Come on. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we’ll be out of this wind.”
But Deegan had gone pale, wide eyes darting from the cold stone to the crashing waves with unease.
“I’ve changed my mind.”
Before Raine could say a word, he turned tail and ran back up the ramp into the airship. Raine watched him go and then glanced at Glade, who wasn’t looking too pleased with the turn of events.
“Well, I suppose we’ll have to let them know…”
“I’ll go,” he said quickly. “It isn’t fair to get their hopes up for nothing. They’ve already sent someone to meet us. We shouldn’t let them return empty-handed.”
He didn’t give Glade time to reply as he hurried forward, an arm thrown up to keep the worst of the wind off his face. It was now or never.