bond with omegas if they didn’t find a true mate in a beta or gamma. Some, like me, were pushed to attend the parties because of our place in lupine society. It was necessary to produce an heir, to find an omega to make a home. But for non-cynes or alphas who weren’t heads of extended families, those who were enjoying living their lives and being young and free, there was no hurry. As a result, more and more omegas were struggling. Many didn’t have families who could support them indefinitely, so were thrown out into the workplace or, worse, the street, with no skills, as they’d been raised solely to be parents and homemakers. Of the lupines who were sex workers, the largest percentage of them were omegas who’d never been bonded.
The practice of parents raising their kids to be a certain way and then punishing them for turning out in that exact manner, had always been egregious in my eyes. Why weren’t parents held responsible for that? Why wasn’t there a penalty for parental ineptitude and failure to produce a “desirable” omega? Of course, the answer was simple. Money. Parents put into the omega the resources at their disposal, as the payoff when their child bonded could potentially be doubled. How could it be their fault if their child was not as beautiful as others, or as polished or poised? Was it the fault of the parents if the omega was an introvert and therefore not able to banter or engage in witty repartee? The problem was that nothing could be changed until laws were passed in regard to omega freedoms, education, and most of all, bonding. They had to be given the same rights as alphas, betas, and gammas, but until the council could be swayed, it was difficult to imagine a change. Perhaps them seeing my marriage to Avery, my mating instead of a bonding, would help. I could only hope so.
“It’s not fair that just because no one wants her I’m not allowed to attend the gatherings to see if I could find an alpha of my own!” Saoirse’s raving drew me from my thoughts.
“Saoirse––”
“I want to run a household,” she choked out, shaking as she stared at Avery. “I want to have children and anything and everything else my heart desires, but because of her,” she railed, and I could hear the hatred in her voice, poisoning every syllable, “I’m getting older and older while all the omegas my age, who I went to finishing school with, are already bonded. And soon I won’t be able to compete with the new debutantes.”
“Saoirse––”
“They’re all so young and pretty. I see their pictures in the paper, and I don’t even get to go to the parties and meet the girls taking away my dream.”
“Listen,” Avery advised her, “simple omegas, poor ones, those not as beautiful as your sister, some of them mate early, quickly, because their parents are so relieved that someone wants them they’re willing to undervalue their contracts. Others jump at the first offer because what if, for whatever reason, they never get another one? You know that’s how it works.”
“Yes, but––”
“Those like your sister and you, cultured and educated, it can take years to make the right match. You know as well as I do that it’s not Bridget’s decision who she bonds with, it’s your father’s. If you want to be mad at someone, it should be him, not your sister.”
“But he asks her,” Saoirse revealed to Avery. “Our father goes through the offers with Bridget, and I hear her turn them down. It’s obscene, Avery. She’s not young anymore; she can’t hope to compete with women my age and younger. She’s past her prime, the bloom is off the rose, and she needs to accept an offer and settle.”
Bridget’s inhale was sharp. The scream that followed was ear-piercing. “You catty little bitch, how dare—”
“Your father would never allow that,” Avery declared, cutting Bridget off and trying, I could tell, to get Saoirse to hear him and understand. “She’s worth far too much to him.”
I knew, of course, that Avery meant worth, as in love and caring, but the reality was, monetarily, Bridget was her father’s most valuable asset.
“But it’s my turn!” she screamed, picking up a glass wolf from the table and hurling it across the room, where it fractured into a million pieces, each prism catching the light from the fire and projecting a chaotic rainbow of colors on the