Ace's POV
Not long after, Owen entered the hall, ignoring the low chatter from the nobles seated around the long table. He walked straight toward me and placed a slim file before me before bending slightly to whisper into my ear.
"This is all I could gather, Your Majesty. Apparently, she only started working here two weeks ago. She's from Vinland."
"Well, that explains why I haven't seen her during any of my previous visits to this department," I murmured.
Owen nodded in agreement and stepped back to stand two paces behind me, resuming his usual post. However, my attention was no longer on the file in front of me. The single detail that stood out was her place of origin.
Vinland.
Was this another one of my brother's schemes? Why was she here, in my territory?
"Your Majesty, after my engagement, your subjects would like to begin plans for your own engagement," the Prime Minister said smoothly, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
I lifted my gaze from the file, picked up my glass, and swirled its contents with practiced elegance before taking a slow sip.
"Yes, sire," the Minister of Labor added quickly. "The country needs an heir, to stabilize your claim and secure the royal line."
I listened to them argue and scheme as though I were not present, discussing potential mates as if they were commodities to be tested and discarded. I had indulged them in the past, allowing them to parade alphas and omegas before me in the name of duty. Some survived a night in my bed. While Some did not.
My ruts were violent and destructive.I had hurt many of them.
Yet my cabinet never cared about the broken bodies or shattered lives left behind. All that mattered to them was producing an heir.
"Have you designed your collar, Prime Minister?" I interrupted coolly.
By Zorak custom, any man intending to marry must present his mate with a collar—symbolizing the bond—or a necklace, marking her as claimed.
"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied, his face brightening. "It is one of the pieces I've brought today for your inspection."
The jewelry was brought in moments later, accompanied by several designers. My breath hitched unexpectedly when I saw her step into the hall.
Red hair, full and vibrant. A soft hourglass figure that caught the eye without effort. She wore glasses, perched delicately on her nose, and moved with quiet confidence. One by one, the designers curtsied respectfully as they entered.
She did not.
I leaned back slightly in my chair, watching her intently as the exhibition began. Each designer presented their work, describing the inspiration and symbolism behind every piece. The nobles murmured among themselves, occasionally debating which jewelry best suited the Prime Minister's bride.
But my focus never wavered.
"What is your name?" I asked suddenly.
The room fell silent.
The designer currently presenting blinked and pointed to herself, clearly assuming I was addressing her. I ignored her entirely.
When I realized the red-haired woman had not even noticed I was speaking to her, I continued.
"Red hair. I'm talking to you. What is your name?"
She startled slightly and pointed at herself. I nodded.Then she spoke.
"Amera, sir."
Her voice, soft, melodic, and far too captivating.
"Where are you from?" I asked.
A collective gasp rippled through the hall.
"I'm originally from Vinland, sir," she replied carefully. "But I went to school in Greevally."
Fear clung to her scent. Nervousness radiated from her clenched hands. I noticed it all, and chose to ignore it.
"Do you know my brother?"
Every pair of eyes in the room turned to her.
"I don't know your brother, sir," she said quickly.
Her heartbeat betrayed no deception.
So she wasn't lying.
I raised a brow in skepticism. How curious.
"So you're telling me you don't know the Duke of Vinland? Your home country's ruler?"
Realization dawned across her face.
"I do know him, sir," she corrected hastily. "I didn't realize you were referring to him."
I said nothing more. Questioning her further in front of the nobles would only draw unwanted attention. Still, every time I mentioned her homeland—or my brother—her fear intensified.
An omega hiding in plain sight.
My brother would lose his mind if he discovered I had his omega within my grasp.
A small smile curved my lips as we returned to the exhibition. I even participated in selecting a few pieces, offering commentary that surprised my cabinet. Quietly, I instructed my head of security not to let Amera leave the premises, and not to alarm her.
I would not risk losing her now that I had found her.
After the meeting concluded, I made my way toward her office. The sight that greeted me made my blood boil.She was packing her bags and planning to run away..
—
The moment the exhibition ended, Amera was trembling with fear. She had heard the officials address him as "Your Majesty" too many times to ignore it. Not only had she failed to curtsy to the king, she had unknowingly drawn his attention.
And worse, he was Duke Gary Rowland's brother.
She couldn't stay. She had to leave the country immediately, never to return. If he discovered what she truly was, he would send her back to Vinland. Back to him.
Her hands shook as she shoved her belongings into her bag. She rushed toward the exit, only to collide with a solid chest.
"Trying to run, are we?"The voice was amused.
Amera looked up and froze. The king.
She stumbled back instinctively.
"N-No," she stammered. "I—I'm not running. I'm done with work. I'm just going home."
"What is a dominant omega doing in my territory without my knowledge?" Ace asked coldly.
Her world shattered.
Amera dropped to her knees, terror overwhelming her, she has been discovered. No one has ever called her a dominant omega since her coming of age.
"Please," she begged hysterically. "Don't send me back. Forget you ever saw me. I can't go back, please."
Her distress alarmed Ace.
"I cannot let you go," he said firmly. "Amera, you belong to me now."
"My mother said I must never be found," she sobbed. "I can't let her sacrifice be in vain.
Please—"
Her voice faded as her body gave out.
She collapsed.
Ace caught her before she hit the floor.
"Owen, call me an ambulance," he ordered sharply.
He lifted her into his arms himself, refusing to let anyone else touch her. The entire department buzzed with shock, whispers spreading like wildfire. He ignored them all.
The only thing that mattered was the omega in his arms.
When the ambulance arrived, he carefully laid her on the stretcher and insisted on riding with her, despite his head of security's objections. The nurses examined her and concluded she was stable, only a mild heart attack, though unusual for someone her age.
He said nothing.
At his residence, Ace carried her straight into his private wing. The staff gasped openly as he took her into his bedroom. Owen raised a brow but wisely remained silent.
Ace laid her gently on the bed as the nurses administered medication. They assured him she would wake soon and promised to return later for further checks.
Once they left, Owen finally spoke, or rather, waited for an explanation.
Ace's voice was quiet.
"She's a dominant omega."
Owen's eyes widened in understanding as he looked at the woman sleeping on the king's bed and nodded slowly.