Rejected Omega Princess: Meet My Overprotective Brothers
In the center, a small stone—moonstone, threaded with faint veins of darker silver—caught the lantern light.
Alden stepped close.
“This is not a crown you wear so others bow deeper,” he said, pitched for my ears alone.
“It’s one you wear so they know where to look when they need someone to stand up for them.”
My throat tightened.
He lifted the diadem and settled it gently over my hair.
For a heartbeat, the weight of it pressed down enough that my old instincts flared—collars, chains, and things locked around my neck without my consent.
Then the crescent at my throat pulsed, a small, sure answer.
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