Chapter 5

Ryse took a discreet breath before approaching.

“Good morning, Madam. Good morning, Mr. Nigel, Miss Eloise.” Her voice was calm, polite, exactly as it should be. But as she placed the teapot in front of Mrs. Harris, her gaze instinctively drifted to Nigel. He wasn’t looking at her. Not even a glance.

He was simply staring at his plate, his jaw clenched, as if her mere presence were unbearable.

Ryse gave nothing away and continued serving. She placed a plate of pastries in front of Eloise, who thanked her with a polite smile. Then she reached out to Nigel to refill her cup of coffee.

That’s when he exploded.

A sharp crack echoed through the room as he slammed his fist down on the table, making the silverware rattle. “I don’t want this!” he snapped. A heavy silence fell over the room. Mrs. Harris immediately put down her cup, a flash of authority passing through her eyes.

“Nigel, what does this attitude mean?” But Nigel ignored her, sitting up abruptly in his chair. His burning gaze finally met Ryse’s, but it wasn’t the look of a childhood brother, or even of a man who considered her a servant. It was a look of pure rejection.

“I refuse to have an omega forced into my life!” he growled. “No matter what tradition says, no matter what my family expects of me, I don’t want it.” Ryse felt her heart clench in her chest, but she kept her head down. “Nigel…” Mrs. Harris began, visibly upset. But he wasn’t about to stop.

He turned to Eloise and firmly grasped her hand.

“I love Eloise, beta or not. She’s the only woman I want by my side.” Ryse didn’t move, simply staring at the amber liquid that trembled in the cup with the tension in the air.

She had never asked to be involved in this. Never wanted her omega status to become an issue. Yet here she was, forced to absorb every word, every rejection, without the right to respond. Mrs. Harris sighed deeply, calmly placing her hands on the table.

“No one is forcing you to do anything, Nigel. But your reaction is excessive.” “Excessive?!” He looked at her in disbelief. “You know how I feel about omegas. I refuse to go through that again!” A shiver ran through Ryse. Go through what? But she didn’t dare ask.

Instead, she did what she did best: she bowed slightly and stepped back, careful not to make a sound as she left the room. She had no business being there. No say.

And Nigel had just reminded her of that with ruthless brutality.

The silence that followed Nigel’s words was heavy, almost suffocating.

No one moved, not even Ryse, who still stood straight, her hands gripping the tray. But the next moment, Nigel noisily pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly.

Without a glance in anyone’s direction, he strode out of the room, the vibrant tension still visible in the stiffness of his shoulders.

“Nigel, wait!” “,” Eloise exclaimed, jumping up to follow him.

She glanced apologetically at Mrs. Harris before disappearing herself, leaving behind the subtle scent of her floral perfume.

Ryse, meanwhile, felt a strange warmth rising in her chest. A dull anger? A pain she didn't want to name? She didn't know. All she knew was that she wanted to leave, to leave this room where she was nothing more than a despised omega.

She was about to turn on her heel when a voice stopped her.

“Ryse, come sit down.” It was Mrs. Harris.

There was a gentle, yet undeniable, authority in her tone.

Ryse hesitated, her fingers involuntarily tightening around the tray. But she had never been able to disobey this woman who, despite her status, had always treated her with a certain kindness.

She placed the tray back on a side table and approached slowly.

The armchair she occupied was large and imposing, contrasting sharply with the delicate figure of the old woman who gestured for her to sit down beside her.

Ryse complied, keeping her eyes lowered, her heart pounding in her chest.

Leonie Harris took a deep breath before placing her hand on Ryse's.

"It's time to talk seriously, Ryse." The omega stiffened slightly.

She didn't know why, but a dull anxiety was spreading through her. Mrs. Harris waited a few seconds before announcing in a calm but firm voice:

"You are going to marry Nigel."

Ryse's world shifted in a split second.

She jerked her eyes up to the matriarch, her lips parted in shock.

"What...?" she breathed, unable to comprehend what she had just heard.

Mrs. Harris didn't repeat herself. She simply stared, her gaze filled with determination.

"You are connected, whether you like it or not. You are an omega, Ryse, and Nigel is an alpha. His fiancée is a beta, and you know what that means." Ryse felt her stomach clench. Yes, she knew.

Betas could certainly mate with alphas, but they didn't have the biological compatibility that omegas shared with them. To ensure strong offspring, it was expected that an alpha would have an omega mate.

But that... that didn't concern her. “I don’t want to,” she finally murmured, her voice trembling.

Mrs. Harris didn’t seem surprised.

“I know this is harsh, and I’m not asking you to agree right away. But believe me, Ryse, there’s no other choice.” Ryse stood up abruptly.

“There’s always a choice, Madam,” she replied, her throat tight.

Her gaze met Mrs. Harris’s one last time before she took a step back.

“I’m sorry… but I can’t.” And without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and left the dining room, feeling tears sting her eyes as she hurried up the stairs to her room.

The air felt suffocating. Her world was crumbling beneath her feet, and she didn’t know how to breathe. Léonie Harris closed the dining room door with a measured gesture, but her gaze was hard, determined.

She had no intention of letting things drag on any longer. Nigel could fly off the handle, bang his fist on the table, and claim he was master of his own destiny, but some decisions weren't entirely his to make.

And this marriage was one of them.

Her hands clasped before her, the matriarch crossed the hall of the manor house with slow steps, but each movement was filled with her own quiet authority.

She already knew where she would find her son.

The large double glass doors leading to the garden were ajar, letting in a light spring breeze.

Nigel was there, sitting on a stone bench, his back slightly hunched, his elbows resting on his knees. Beside him, Eloise spoke softly, gently placing a hand on his arm in an obvious attempt to soothe him. Léonie didn't slow down.