Last thing Tiberius wanted was to meet the clan and face his old man, but in life, you rarely got what you wanted.
Reese. That’s who he wanted. There was no escaping that. Just like there was no escaping his duty.
His head pounded fit to burst. He walked like a drunk, staggering, as he entered the ancestral mansion to the sound of music and voices, the clink of glasses. The clan was there, heads turning as he stepped inside.
Grabbing a glass from a tray, he raised it. Let them think what they wanted. A drunk alpha wasn’t uncommon, and if that explained his uneven gait, even better. An alpha never showed weakness, especially not the son of an old wolf from the venerated Crescent clan.
Tiberius, shifters said from right and left as he advanced between them. Tiberius.
Inclining his head in acknowledgment, he made his way to the back of the reception hall, glass in hand, his mind back in his Academy room and the pretty omega hopefully waiting there. Seeing him crouched between his legs had almost broken Tiberius’s precarious control. He’d almost grabbed Reese’s head and hauled him closer, almost kissed him, almost forced him to suck him.
Fuck.
Tiberius had never thought of himself as one of those adrenaline-pumped, chest-thumping alphas who took what and who they wanted just because they could. He thought of himself as just, and controlled, and disciplined.
It only took Reese crouching there to show him how wrong he was. How little control he had over his own body and urges.
“Tiberius,” a deep voice said, and he turned to face Severus of the Fang clan. Nero’s father, an old alpha, creepy as all hell. “Good to see you, young man. How’s the Academy?”
“Fine. You know how it is. Studying and training takes up all my time.”
“Of course.” Severus turned to take in the crowded hall, then nodded at Tiberius. “Your father told me you’re ready to choose a Mate. That’s a sensible move in this unstable world we live in. I’m urging my son to do the same.”
“You are?” Tiberius took a swig from his glass. He needed it, after all.
“Absolutely. Our world is hanging in a precarious balance. Not only are the witches threatening us from the outside, but other clans threaten our position of power. Our clans are old and venerated, but they need consolidation, alliances, and of course, heirs.”
Of course.
Because all the old wolves thought about was power.
Not happiness.
And where was this bitterness coming from? He’d always knew he’d marry the omega his father chose for him. Why fight him now?
Silky black hair. Wide blue eyes. Slender shoulders. Skin like cream.
Reese...
“Tiberius.”
“Hm?” He blinked up at the old wolf. “What?”
“I said, have you met your Mate-to-be? He’s a great omega, from a good clan, a good house. You do know who your father chose for you, don’t you?”
“I...” His father had already chosen? Why hadn’t Tiberius been informed, when the head of another clan knew already?
That was it. Enough. He had to confront his old man, whether he wanted it or not.
“Excuse me,” he said with all the politeness he could muster after this news, and with the headache pounding in his temples. “I have to speak to my alpha father.”
As he strode through the crowd, he realized he didn’t see the head of the Eclipse Clan, Marcus’s father, anywhere. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Marcus all day, either.
Huh. Strange. He had thought it weird that Nero had come to check on him earlier, but Nero was like that, coming and going randomly, keeping his own counsel and his reasons to himself.
Though if his father was also pressing him to get married...
Damn. Tiberius finished his wine in two gulps and slammed the glass on a table as he scanned the room, looking for old wolf Constantine.
Dear old dad.
He spotted him talking with the clans’ president, Ambrosius Greywolf, their heads bent together, probably discussing how to best use their offspring to take over the world.
“Father!” he called out as he approached, plastering on a smile, wishing he had more booze for liquid courage. “Been looking for you.”
“Tiberius,” his father said, expression neutral. If he was happy to see his alpha son, he showed no sign of it.
“Was there anything you wanted to talk to me about?” Tiberius ground out.
“Talk to you? I have given up waiting for you to choose an appropriate Mate. So I have taken things into my own hands.”
“Father... what have you done? I thought we could discuss this. I need some more time.”
The old wolf waved a dismissive hand. “At your age, I had already fathered you. We need this alliance and we need it now.”
“Which alliance? That sounds damn specific.”
“The alliance with me,” Ambrosius said, speaking for the first time. “With the oldest and most powerful clan.”
Tiberius stared at him, speechless.
“My son Fennix is attending the Lotus Academy,” Ambrosius went on. “He will make you a perfect Mate.”
Lotus Academy was an omega prep academy. But... “I didn’t even know you had an omega son,” he blurted out.
Ambrosius shrugged, clearly not interested in such a discussion. Ambrosius practically selling his omega son to the second strongest clan of the shifter lands in marriage shouldn’t have surprised Tiberius. It was how things were.
Omegas were quintessential to life. Without them, there would be no procreation. Their clans, their future, would be forfeit. And yet they were always treated as the children of a lesser god. Parents often avoided mentioning them, locked them away, were frustrated and disappointed at having them.
It made no sense to Tiberius.
“I’m not ready yet to get married,” he said stonily.
“Nobody is,” Ambrosius said. “You grow into it. You get used to it. It’s a matter of taking the plunge.”
With an omega he’d never seen or heard about? “But...”
“You can’t refuse,” his father said, a hard light in his eyes. “You’d offend the leader of our clans? You’d offend me? You wouldn’t dare.”
“Really? You’ll force my hand because you arranged a marriage without even asking me?”
“Asking you?” His father tsked. “You embarrass me. Your duty is to your clan and your family. Don’t forget your place.”
“Was this... was it your plan, that I find you here with the clan you want us allied with and set me between a rock and a hard place? How far do your plans go, old man?”
“You dare,” his father hissed, baring his long, yellowed fangs. “You dare confront me in front of everyone, and our clans’ president? I won’t let this go unpunished.”
Tiberius’s headache was blinding. Black was seeping into the edges of his vision. His skull thumped fit to burst. “You are serious.”
“What is going on?” Ambrosius asked.
“I have to go. No offense, Ambrosius,” Tiberius said and sidestepped a swipe of his father’s shifting hand, with its emerging claws. “But I can’t marry an omega I haven’t even met just because my father says so.”
“You...” his father growled.
“That is easily fixed,” Ambrosius said. “We can arrange a meeting with my son this week. I am sure you will find him suitable.”
Suitable. Like he was looking to buy a piece of furniture, or a new car.
“He agrees,” Tiberius’s father said, before Tiberius could open his mouth to reply. “You will agree to this marriage, Tiberius, or you are disowned, and that is final.”
“You have to be kidding me...” Staring into his alpha father’s cold gaze, Tiberius suppressed a shiver, cce wrapping around his spine.
His father had never threatened him with something so serious. Sure, he was a bastard and had no problem punching Tiberius in the face if he was having a bad day. Growing up he’d carried his fair share of bruises, and he’d been happy to take them so his brother wouldn’t have to. Had learned to protect himself. It had made him stronger.
Turning his back on his father, he walked out. Let the old wolf made of it what he willed.
But damn, it hurt. After their omega father had died, both he and Emanuel had sought comfort and affection in their father, but it wasn’t meant to be. Their father was as warm a person as a winter’s day. A cruel, calculating son of a bitch. Both he and Emanuel knew it.
And yet every time he stabbed them with his words and actions, they both bled. Wasn’t it ironic?
***
He hailed a cab and slid into the backseat, bending over and holding on to his achy head.
Damn... He felt like shit. He often had tension headaches when he had to meet his father, but never this bad. All he wanted was to locate some painkillers, swallow a fistful of them and go to bed with the drapes closed. Dark and quiet and away from the responsibilities his alpha father kept heaping on his shoulders.
The omega he was trying to foist on him.
He wondered suddenly where Emanuel had been tonight. He hadn’t seen him at all. not that they talked much these days. Emanuel was convinced that Tiberius wanted the family business for himself, and wasn’t talking to him.
What a family, huh? And yet he felt compelled to do his duty by them, do the things that made him unhappy to make his father happy. How sick was that?
“You okay back there, boy?” the cabbie asked, giving him a concerned look through the rearview mirror. “Not gonna be sick in my cab, are you?”
“No,” Tiberius muttered.
“Good. Just had it cleaned, too. Not that you young alphas ever appreciate such things.”
“What the fuck.” Tiberius rubbed at his throbbing temples. “Stereotyping much?”
“Am I? Didn’t you grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth? What do you know about saving every penny to fix things that keep getting broken?”
Ah fuck. Tiberius sighed. The cabbie was a beta. He had proudly hung a brass letter B from his mirror. Most shifters didn’t advertise their type so much. Didn’t bother. Maybe the guy was overgeneralizing, but in most cases, it was clear who was what.
And he had no idea what Tiberius’s life had been like.
“Nothing to say?” the cabbie prodded.
“Whatever.” Tiberius glanced out the window. “I’m sensing a painful story there and have no desire to hear it. Just take me to the Academy and I swear I won’t toss my cookies on your new upholstery.”
“You got yourself a deal, kid.”
Kid. Tiberius couldn’t remember ever being called that. He’d always been the strongest, the proudest, the alpha son, the son with the responsibility of the whole shifter world on his shoulders.
“You will agree to this marriage, Tiberius or you are disowned.”
What the hell, right? Emanuel bitched and moaned about Tiberius’s alpha privileges but he wasn’t forced to marry someone he’d never even heard of before for the sake of a political alliance. Wasn’t told he’d be kicked out on the curb if he didn’t obey.
How did this happen? Why? Why was this alliance so damn important? Why the rush? Sure, some alphas married early, but usually it was because they’d gotten an omega pregnant, or had a sweetheart since childhood and their parents didn’t mind. Political alliances usually waited, through a long period of courting, and then engagement.
By the time they reached the Academy, it was a relief to pay and get the hell out, break the vicious circle of thoughts.
Besides... Reese. Would he have waited for Tiberius or left? Just the thought of the pretty omega in his bed made Tiberius so damn hard he might bust a nut.
He had to talk to Reese about his scent. Asks him about suppressants, about his heat. He had to figure out why he was so drawn to him, and how the hell to stop it.