Little longer

The king is playing dress-up with me again. He picked out every detail of my clothing, as if I'm some kind of doll he can mold and manipulate to his liking. Today, it's a high-neckline shirt designed to hide the collar marking me as Thorne's omega.The outfit feels suffocating, each button fastened like a shackle. My hair is twisted into an elaborate, undeniably feminine style, one that makes my scalp ache from the effort to keep it all in place. I am an omega, not a woman, but the king doesn't seem to care about that distinction. I grit my teeth and hold it in, fighting the resentment rising in my chest. Thorne might be there today. I have to endure.