Thane paced the room restlessly, his tryst having offered him no comfort and scarcely any distraction from the raging maelstrom of his thoughts.

He'd needed to get away from the ball. From the celebration of his sibling, the imperial heir, and the consorts-to-be. Three. The heir got three beautiful, capable omegas, and freedom to bond and sire pups. Thane? He got no such luxuries. As the only alpha born to the current third consort, his role wasn't to form political alliances or to wield power and influence. No, his role was to act as a spare. To remain unmarried, unbonded, so that should anything befall the true heir, the imperial family would go on.

He felt sick. With his sibling's marriages fast approaching, it was a matter of time before pups were born, and he'd be stuck—a distant consideration in the line of succession, forgotten.

"Out," he hissed at the pretty beta who'd joined his bed. Betas, always. Omegas were too precious to risk on a perfunctory alpha like him. If he sired illegitimate pups with a beta, no one would bat an eyelash. An omega, now that would be a scandal. His family would never forgive him. "Don't let anyone see you. Lock the door behind you."

His bed warmer for the night walked out, leaving Thane alone with his bitter thoughts, filled with spite and longing for a life that would never be his. Perhaps, within a decade or two, he would be granted the mercy of a marriage. When his nephews and nieces were grown, and he was past his prime.

"Damn this," he muttered angrily, his fingers gripping at the bedsheets roughly and tearing at the cloth. "Damn this party, this country, this custom, everything!"

Thane growled, ripping chunks of fabric one after another until the sheets were in tatters. He was normally better at handling his emotions than this, but the sight of the heir, authoritative and regal, being celebrated and adored, while he was relegated to existing in a vacuum...

Breathing heavily, he snarled at the door when he heard a knock. "Leave! I am in no mood for visitors!"