II | Discipline

II | Discipline

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"Excuse me?" I blinked, looking between Carter and my uncle dumbly. "I thought Knight Carter was your personal knight."

"Oh, he was, but he's also the man I trust the most with this job. You see, Jasper, Carter will not only be keeping you safe."

Again, I looked between Clayton and Carter. Neither expression alluded to anything more, but the feeling in the pit of my stomach spoke louder than if I screamed at the top of my lungs. "What do you mean?"

"Carter will be teaching you how to act like a proper omega." Clayton smiled, perfectly pleased with himself, like a scruffy old dog with a bone. "Marriage is approaching quicker than you realize, and there isn't an alpha in the kingdom I'd be able to convince to marry you. Even a bribe won't be enough, I'm afraid." Clayton rested his cheek in his palm. "You see, Jasper, you're too much of a wild card, and Carter specializes in creating order and structure from chaos. That's exactly what I want him to do with you. When he's done, I want you safe, sound, and having all the knowledge you'll ever need about being the perfect omega spouse."

"If an alpha won't marry be, because I'm not afraid to speak my mind, then I wouldn't want them anyway. I'm not going to tuck myself away and keep quiet just to please someone or act like the perfect omega."

"Without an alpha, you'll never amount to anything as a leader of this kingdom. Our people will not respect you without an alpha's authority backing you. That's how our dynasty has operated for centuries."

"Then maybe it's time for a change."

Clayton's face contorted into a dark frown, his eyes looking more like pieces of coal than crystalized honey. "Not in this time and not while I'm still in power. You will learn to submit and listen, Jasper. Carter has the authority to use any means he deems appropriate to break this nasty independence streak of yours to make you a better omega. Our people deserve so much better from you."

My stomach burned with guilt. It wasn't the first time I heard that line, and each time Clayton or one of his advisors breathed it into the air, the words burned that much more. It felt so wrong to bury my head in the sand and be a meek little mouse, but if it was that wrong, why did everyone keep pushing it?

"But, he's an alpha," I said, my voice falling softer. Still an argument, but tinged with the burning shame that raged in my gut.

"Who better to teach you what an alpha wants from an omega than an alpha?" Clayton raised his brows, seeming confident in his decision.

"Prince Jasper," Rhett Carter spoke for the first time since I entered the room. "Please don't be afraid of this. I want you to learn from me and be able to strengthen yourself. I will break you if I must, but I'd rather build with you than start from a clean slate." His usual polite demeanor shifted as his gaze snapped to something domineering and demanding, something I only saw a flash of during my rescue. "Do I make myself clear?"

The urge to bite back surged within me, but I forced myself to stay quiet. "Yes," I ended up spitting between my teeth.

*~*~*

Later that evening, it was back to business as usual. My uncle hosted parties every couple of months where all the alpha nobles would gather at the palace for an evening of shmoozing and entertainment. On the list activities were the female servants performing duties while nude, drinking the finest spirits and smoking cigars, and live music. When Clayton had been especially displeased with me, even I received orders to appear at the parties to humor the swine in suits, make them feel like something special for getting a glimpse at the gentle side of the omega prince.

The whole thing was fucking sick. Debauchery was taken to the extreme and into the realm of outright illicit. No one there--well, the servants and I--gave consent to any of the activities. The two times I'd brought it up to Clayton, he swiftly advised me that neither I nor the servants had any consent to give. The parties were punishment for me and my detesting of them only meant the discipline would be more effective.

Blessedly, I wasn't forced to be nude, but I was stripped to lacy panties and a silk robe, which made it all the more humiliating. The servants received far worse treatment, being brutalized in every way the nobles desired. I was kept on a platform of fluffy cushions, cooed at like a porcelain doll, and occasionally prodded to use my mouth for more than coy responses. That never went over well, and it didn't that night either.

I sat on my plush throne, watching the nobles mingle. Occasional glances were thrown my way, some out of curiosity and some devouring me--wishing they could strip me bare and have me in front of everyone--or so I feared.

A weight sinking into the cushions drew my attention to my nearer surroundings. Lord Herrington, the CEO of Silver Linings, sat next to me. "How are you tonight, Prince Jasper?" he asked, resting a hand on my knee. He was older than Clayton, older than my late parents.

"I'm well, and you?"

"Great, thank you for asking." He lit up like I'd remembered his birthday. Pathetic. "You don't look like you're having much fun."

"I'm not really a fan of parties."

"Maybe I can help liven things up for you." Lord Herrington's hand slid up my thigh. He leaned into me, mouth coming at mine. He kissed me, forcing entry with his tongue.

Off reaction alone, I bit it.

Lord Herrington swore loudly and jerked back, clapping a hand over his mouth as blood dribbled down his chin, soaking the front of his white shirt.

Uncle Clayton was at my side in an instant, apologizing profusely while gripping my wrist so tightly I thought the bone would splinter. He dragged me off the rooftop enclosure and into the stairwell.

Before saying a word, Clayton backhanded me. I felt certain he left bright red ring imprints across my cheek. "This is why you need training," he hissed. "Omegas do not act that way. You graciously accept what you're given and thank the alpha. Carter will see to it that by the time another gathering is held, you will grovel for Lord Herrington's forgiveness on your knees. Do you understand?"

"But uncle--" Another swift crack against my cheek shut me up. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. My vision swam.

"Get out of my sight."

Turning, I hustled down the steps to avoid any more of Clayton's wrath. I went straight to my room and into the wardrobe. A much tighter fit from when I was a child, I could still sit with my knees pulled to my chest. One of the few solitary places I had to let it all go, let down the armor I crafted--that kept me in trouble--and sobbed. My face burned like fire. Everything ached. I wanted to be someone else, someone my uncle would have approved of, someone that knew how to shut up and submit like he wanted. God, why couldn't I be that person?

Nothing I did was ever good enough. I was always too much, but not enough. Too much bad, too little good. I felt as worthless as the scum beneath Rhett Carter's boots.

Rhett Carter… I wondered what our training had in store. That look he gave me before Clayton dismissed me had shaken me to my core. I never saw Carter look like that. Then again, I hadn't seen Carter look many ways. We had had limited interactions over the years, and I couldn't say I looked forward to having more. If he was anything like what Clayton said, I worried for what sort of horrors I'd be subjected to.

A knock on my door and had me straightening up, sniffling, and gathering myself as much as I could. I'd made too much noise to pretend like I wasn't in the room, so I quickly and nimbly crawled from the wardrobe.

"Come in," I called.

Chelsea peeked her head into the room. "Hello, Prince, I came to give you a deliver a message from Knight Carter."

"What is it?"

"He would like to meet with you in the morning to begin training. He requested you wear a suit like you were going out to meet with a noble. Would you like me to go ahead and sit out an outfit?"

"No, thank you, Chelsea. I'll sit something out. You're dismissed for the evening."

"Thank you, Prince."

Chelsea took her leave, and I sat on the corner of my bed. Defeat weighed heavily on me as I felt the ghost of Lord Herrington's mouth shoving against mine. I shuddered. Closing my eyes, I fought to picture anything else, and Rhett Carter was the image to fill my mind's eye.