The Sovereigns' Omega

Chapter 9

Jacek

It's been a full day since I've seen Mariah.

My wolf feels it before I do—restless, prowling the edges of my mind like static that won't quiet. He wants her near. Her scent. Her voice. The kind of stillness she carries without meaning to.

I'd heard stories about bonds like this—rare, feral things that strip logic down to bone.

I never thought I'd end up inside one.

When I step out of my room, Cassian's already up—black T-shirt, worn jeans, a homemade protein shake in hand.

Vanilla and oats. I can smell it before I'm halfway across the room. Strong, but tolerable.

He glances over his shoulder, lids half-lowered like he hasn't slept, or doesn't need to.

"We're going off campus today," he says, taking a slow drink. "Need to let our wolves breathe."

Shit.

If I shift, my wolf will find her.

It isn't a question of control—it's instinct. He'll pick her scent out of a thousand and follow it straight to her.

But I can't tell Cassian that.

Not yet.

So I search for something close to truth and build a lie around it.

I'm not good at lying—too easy to read, too obvious in the pause before the words form.

But for her, I'll try.

"I have a piece I need to work on," I say, meeting his gaze and keeping my voice flat. Controlled.

Cassian stills mid-sip. His eyes narrow, just enough to register suspicion.

"Work on it later."

My jaw tightens. That tone means it's not a suggestion.

He sets the shaker down with a quiet thud, leaning one shoulder against the counter. The movement's relaxed, but it's a trick. Cassian's never relaxed when he's decided something.

"As alpha, it's my job to keep tabs on my pack's energy," he says, voice calm but carrying that undercurrent of command. "And after this week, we need a reset. Even you. Don't think I can't smell the frustration rolling off you."

It's not me. It's my wolf, I want to argue.

But I don't.

Instead, I default to the only defense I have—silence. Then, eventually:

"It's nothing."

Cassian studies me the way he always does—like he's dissecting a piece of music, listening for the note that doesn't belong.

"Then it won't hurt to clear your head."

He's already decided.

I can see it in the set of his shoulders. The quiet finality that says no amount of logic will move him.

He's the storm pretending to be still.

And me? I'm the i***t standing in its path.

"Okay," I relent.

Without a word, Cassian grabs his keys and heads for the door, expecting me to follow.

I do.

Because that's what I'm supposed to do.

Because fighting him would draw attention I don't want.

Downstairs, the house hums with life—voices, laughter, footsteps ricocheting off hardwood.

Too loud. Too much at once.

I stay near the doorway, letting their noise roll past me like wind.

Cassian thrives in it. His energy stretches outward, filling every space with that quiet, magnetic pull only true alphas have.

Mine stays contained. Measured. Controlled.

When he swings the front door open, sunlight cuts through the noise—bright, sharp, unfiltered. The others spill out ahead of us.

Cassian looks back, the corner of his mouth twitching in something that isn't quite a smile.

"You coming?"

I nod, syncing the rhythm of my breath to the sound of his boots on the porch.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

We take his grey Bugatti, while the rest of the pack piles into their own cars.

The drive out of town is silent. Cassian doesn't play music. He never does when he's like this.

Trees whip past us in streaks of green and gold. The sunlight flickers through the canopy too fast, too bright.

I start counting to steady it.

One, two, three, four. Again.

By the time we reach the clearing, the others are already there, shirts off, laughter rising in the cool air.

The scent hits first—soil, pine, sweat, the charged weight of wolves waiting to be free. It settles in my lungs, thick and raw.

My wolf stirs, pacing behind my ribs, his growl reverberating through every nerve.

He wants out.

He wants her.

And I'm running out of strength to keep him from tearing through me to get to her.

Cassian kicks off his sneakers, then strips down—each motion deliberate, unhurried. The others follow his lead, conversation fading into the low hum of anticipation. Wolves wake beneath their skin.

Spines straighten. Muscles pull tight. Breath turns heavier.

I stay a few paces back, arms crossed, breathing slow and steady.

Cassian was right about one thing.

We all needed this. The run. The release. The sense of freedom.

I just wish I didn't.

The longer I stand still, the louder my wolf gets. Every inhale drags in the scent of earth and adrenaline, the pulse of the pack beating against the forest air.

Let me out.

Let me out.

Let me out.

My jaw locks. I grind my teeth and force him down, deeper, until the pressure makes my vision blur.

Cassian's gaze cuts over his shoulder, eyes narrowing. "You good?"

"Fine."

His brow lifts, just slightly. "You don't look fine, brother."

"I said I'm fine."

He studies for a beat—quiet, accessing. The weight of his gaze settles like heat on the back of my neck.

Then he lets it go. Turns away.

Without a word, Cassian shifts.

Bones crack. The air folds in on itself.

One second, he's standing there. The next, he's a massive black wolf—fur dark as smoke, eyes deeper than the bottom of the sea.

Cassian moves with that same impossible balance he has in human form.

Raw power disguised as ease.

The others follow. Bodies bend, bones realign, the sound of transformation echoing through the clearing in a syncopated rhythm of flesh and instinct.

I wait.

Count my breaths.

One. Two. Three.

Heat builds along my spine, climbing faster with each inhale until the pull becomes unbearable. My body obeys before my mind can stop it.

Bones grind. Muscle tears. Skin gives way.

Shifts used to be agony. Every crack of bone felt like a reminder of how little control I actually had.

Now, it's almost routine. Familiar. Manageable, depending on how regulated I am.

The noise cuts out—and my wolf takes over.

The forest is different now—clearer, sharper. Every scent, every sound, every pulse in the ground buzzes against my senses.

A twig snaps.

Wind threads through the trees.

A rabbit's heartbeat flutters somewhere off to the right.

I breathe it in.

Earth. Pine. Pack.

Cassian surges forward, black fur flashing between trunks, paws striking the ground like thunder.

The others follow, their shapes blurring into streaks of color and motion behind him.

I hang back near the treeline, apart but not separate. The soil is cool beneath my paws—steady, grounding. Something solid to hold onto when everything inside me threatens to fracture.

For a while, it works.

The static fades. My head clears.

Then I smell her.

Mariah.

Her scent drifts through the forest—faint but unmistakable.

Like she's close.

Too close.

Somewhere near the edges of the trees.

Unless I've finally lost it and I'm hallucinating her.

My wolf stops dead.

Ears twitch. Fur bristles. Every muscle locks tight.

Then he moves.

I dig my claws into the dirt, trying to hold him back, but the ground gives. He pushes harder. Instinct surges forward, drowning out everything else.

Cassian's growl cuts across the forest—low, warning, threaded with authority.

I barely hear it.

All I can think about is her.

All I can feel is the pull.

Mate.

The word floods through me like a pulse.

And then we run.

Her scent thickens with every stride, wrapping around me until there's nothing left.

Until all sense of control is gone.

Branches whip past, snapping against my sides. The world narrows to motion and need. My wolf drives forward, breath ragged, muscles burning.

Then a voice slices through the haze—the only one strong enough to interrupt a mate bond.

Stop.

Cassian's order slams into me like a physical blow. My body locks mid-stride, the command tearing through bone and muscle until I'm frozen in place.

A snarl rips from my throat, low and feral, as my alpha steps into view. His black eyes pin me in place like a blade to the throat.

Power hums between us, sharp and electric. As beta, I can fight an alpha's command longer than most, but it depends on how much force he puts behind it.

And right now, he's not holding back.

The weight of his authority crawls over my skin, pressing down until the instinct to submit wars with the need to run to her.

My wolf lowers his head, every muscle trembling with resistance. The command doesn't cool the urge. Her scent still lingers, feeding the fire in my blood.

Cassian moves closer, slow and deliberate, ignoring the low growl that builds in my chest. His gaze never wavers. He tilts his head slightly, his dark eyes piercing through me.

Then I see it—the subtle flare of his nostrils, the shift in his pupils.

Like he can scent her too.

Something flickers across his face. Quick. Unreadable. Gone before I can read it.

But I saw it.

He straightens. "Shift. Now."

The order lands softer this time, but my wolf still resists. The scent is already fading, yet the ache it leaves behind clings like smoke.

I grit my teeth and force the change. Heat rips through me, bones cracking under the pressure. The world tilts, the forest folding in and out of focus as skin replaces fur and silence swallows the sound.

When it's over, I'm on my knees in the dirt, breath uneven, sweat cooling across my back.

Cassian shifts a moment later. I don't even flinch. We've long since stopped caring about things like that. Brothers. Wolves. Bound by something that makes human modesty irrelevant.

He doesn't move. Doesn't need to. He just stands there, his expression emptying into something hard and distant.

"We need to reject her, Jace."

The words hit like a sour chord.

He knows.

Of course he does.

But when?

I lift my head, meeting his gaze even though everything in me wants to look away. "How long have you known?"

Cassian doesn't answer right away. His jaw ticks once—the only crack in his perfect control.

"Long enough," he says at last, voice cold and final. "Long enough to see what it's doing to you."

For a second, I don't breathe.

Reject her.

The words loop. Over and over. Until it's all I can hear.

My wolf snarls in protest, peering at Cassian through my eyes.

Ours.

We've only known her a week. Barely spoken outside of class.

But he doesn't care.

To him, she's already ours.

"I'm not doing that," I say finally, voice rough.

Cassian's eyes harden. "You don't have a choice."

"Like hell I don't."

He doesn't blink. The air between us tightens, heavy with challenge neither of us wants to back down from.

"She's a f*****g distraction, Jace," Cassian snaps, that calm, controlled tone of his starting to crack. "You—of all people—just lost control of your wolf because of her. Doesn't that tell you how dangerous she is? To you. To me. To the whole damn pack."

"She's not dangerous," I bite out, fists clenching at my sides. "She doesn't even know she's our mate, Cass. How could she possibly be a threat?"

He lets out a dry, disbelieving scoff. "How could she not know? She's an omega, Jace. They feel it before we do."

He has a point.

But Mariah doesn't seem to recognize the bond, even when I'm close enough to feel it burning under my skin.

She treats me no different than a friend—and honestly, part of me wishes I could do the same.

It would sure as hell make things easier.

"If she could really feel the bond," I say evenly, keeping my tone steady, "she would've sensed us here and came running."

Cassian's eyes narrow. "Or maybe she did—and decided to run the other way."

"If she did, that was her choice."

He exhales through his nose, a bitter sound. "Miles was right. You're already in too deep."

Fuck.

When he says stuff like that, it's never a good sign.

I can already see the wheels turning.

But whatever's forming in his head, I won't let it play out.

My jaw ticks, already fearing the question as it forms. "What does that mean?"

Cassian shifts his weight, folding his arms as he braces against a tree. A dark glint crosses his face.

"It means that if she can get to you like this, she's more dangerous than I thought. And if you won't reject her, I’ll make Blackridge a living hell for her—so bad she begs to leave.”