The Prince and the Omega

By Penelope Peters

Rowan’s not royalty – and that’s fine by him.

Omega Rowan Thornton has never been so glad he’s not considered royalty. Especially since his best friend Princess Celia is stuck bonding with a foreign prince she’s never even met. Celia’s solution? Ask Rowan to flirt with someone, anyone, during her engagement ball so she can live a romantic entanglement vicariously through him.

Well, that’s what best friends are for, right?

Gus is royal to the bone – and that’s the trouble.

Prince Gaspar – better known as Gus – isn’t the type of alpha to fall in love at the drop of a hat, or at the staged farce of a romantic ball. He’s agreed to an arranged marriage because it’s his duty – not his desire. When his half-brother suggests he take a last chance at having what he really wants before getting tied down to a foreign princess, Gus has no intention of following through... until he meets the handsome omega commoner with the adorable smile.

It’s not like Gus is going to lose his heart or anything, right?

It was only a single night – but the consequences could be greater than their lifetimes.

Gus and Rowan both know that a lifetime spent together is impossible – but for a single hour, they just don’t care. One night of giving into their passion has consequences neither of them anticipated... but will it dismantle the fragile truce between their countries? And will one courtier’s jealousy end up destroying everything they both hold dear?

The Prince and the Omega is a stand-alone m/m mpreg omegaverse non-shifter romance with an HEA ending. It has secret passageways, loyal friendships, garden labyrinths, and a prince in disguise.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Penelope Peters
• Release date: Aug 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005406646

Penelope Peters

Penelope Peters wrote her first story at the age of nine, based on a dream she couldn’t shake. This is probably why most of her romances usually include the weird and whimsical. Penelope has been happily married to her college sweetheart for nearly two decades, which is probably why her romances are practically guaranteed happy endings. Armed with her two kids, the cat, and her somewhat-trusty laptop, Pen’s traveled to more countries than you can count on two hands. (She’s very close to filling up that third.) Currently Penelope lives in Country of Residence #5, where she is surrounded by pierogi, pottery, and her collection of unfinished counted cross-stitch kits.You can find Penelope on Facebook (PenelopePetersAuthor), Twitter (@penelope_writes), Tumblr (penelopepeters), and her website (Penelope-peters.com), where you can learn about how to receive updates and ARCs. Sign up for her newsletter and receive a FREE BOOK! geni.us/pensmailinglist

Book preview

The Prince and the Omega

by

Penelope Peters

The Prince and the Omega

Rowan’s not royalty – and that’s fine by him.

Omega Rowan Thornton has never been so glad he’s not considered royalty. Especially since his best friend Princess Celia is stuck bonding with a foreign prince she’s never even met. Celia’s solution? Ask Rowan to flirt with someone, anyone, during her engagement ball so she can live a romantic entanglement vicariously through him.

Well, that’s what best friends are for, right?

Gus is royal to the bone – and he’s never regretted it before.

Prince Gaspar – better known as Gus – isn’t the type of alpha to fall in love at the drop of a hat, or at the staged farce of a romantic ball. He’s agreed to an arranged marriage because it’s his duty – not his desire. When his half-brother suggests he take a last chance at having what he really wants before getting tied down to a foreign princess, Gus has no intention of following through… until he meets the handsome omega commoner with the adorable smile.

It’s not like Gus is going to lose his heart or anything, right?

It was only a single night – but the consequences could be greater than their lifetimes.

Gus and Rowan both know that a lifetime spent together is impossible – but for a single hour, they just don’t care. One night of giving into their passion has consequences neither of them anticipated… but will it dismantle the fragile truce between their countries? And will one courtier’s jealousy end up destroying everything they both hold dear?

The Prince and the Omega is a stand-alone m/m mpreg omegaverse non-shifter romance with an HEA ending. It has secret passageways, loyal friendships, garden labyrinths, and a prince in disguise.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Epilogue

Links

About the Author

Also by Penelope Peters

Acknowledgements

Sneak Peek at Camp Lake Omega

Copyright Notice

Chapter One

IT WAS LESS THAN A minute after Rowan Thornton had stepped into the castle’s foyer before he was kidnapped.

He wasn’t even surprised. Rowan had been a regular visitor to the castle since he was five; he could count the number of times he hadn’t been kidnapped upon his arrival on one hand. Most of his visits to the castle involved being dragged in one direction or the other. Twenty years of kidnappings had a tendency to make a person complacent.

Today, however, he hadn’t counted on an immediate kidnapping, since the person usually responsible was meant to be the guest of honor of the Grand Ball. Rowan had at least figured he’d make it past the foyer.

Ow! he yelped as he was dragged down the narrow passageway. A thin hand gripped him by the wrist. His kidnapper carried a flashlight that didn’t shine much light on anything but straight ahead – not that Rowan needed any light to know who was wearing the dark brown cloak.

Celia, groaned Rowan. "Don’t you have better things to do during your own party than kidnap me?"

Shh, hissed Celia. "The walls are thin here. If you get me caught, Rowan, I swear to God."

You’re kidnapping me. I kind of think you deserve to be caught.

Celia’s response was both airy and bitter. What’s the worst they can do to me? Marry me off to an unknown, idiot prince from a foreign land and send me away for the rest of my life?

Rowan winced – because that was, essentially, exactly what was going to happen anyway. "Let’s be fair. We don’t actually know that he’s an idiot."

Celia’s fingers tightened on his wrist.

I don’t care, she said stubbornly. I know my place, I’m the omega princess of Calabria. My job is to mate and marry a foreign alpha prince – and if I do it to seal a peace accord ending a war that’s gone on since before either you and I were babies, then isn’t that part of the greater good?

Of course it is, said Rowan, trying to sound supportive.

"I’ve got an hour and a half before the engagement is announced and I lose my freedom entirely. If I want to kidnap my best friend in the world for ten minutes before I have to go and smile and pretend I’m happy about being a pawn in a game of chess – then that’s what I’m going to do, okay?"

She sounded as if she was about two seconds away from crying. Rowan took a breath and immediately regretted it when all he tasted was the dust in the air.

Okay, he said, before bursting into a thick flurry of coughing.

"I don’t think Daddy’s had these passageways cleaned in weeks, complained Celia, stopping to thump her fist on Rowan’s back. Are you all right?"

My throat’s just dry, that’s all.

There’s water waiting for us.

Perfect, said Rowan. They started walking again. Have you seen him yet?

You know we’re not meant to see each other beforehand, Celia reminded Rowan, so prim and proper that Rowan knew she was lying through her teeth. "I don’t even know his name."

I know. So, have you seen him?

I’m not answering that on account of Royal Privilege.

So, yes.

Celia snorted in such a pretty manner that Rowan grinned.

Silk and taffeta rustled under the wool of Celia’s cloak as she reached out to take Rowan’s hand. The passageway was wide enough to easily walk side by side. The rough stone walls on either side were grey with dirt and dust. Their feet kicked up even more dust from the stone floors, where it piled up in the corners, swirling into the air as they passed.

Rowan’s shoes and socks would be coated in the stuff. God, he hated the castle’s secret passageways.

I wish you weren’t so dramatic, he grumbled. There was still a tickle in his throat and his head began to ache. Maybe he could just hide out in the library for the rest of the evening. It wasn’t as if anyone but his father or Celia would miss him.

Of course, those are the two people most likely to make sure I’m on the dance floor the longest, thought Rowan grimly.

Then how would I have any fun? asked Celia. Help me with the door, you know it sticks.

It took both of them throwing themselves against the heavy wooden door to make it budge. Even then it was several minutes of continued pushing before the door opened enough to let them through.

The West Library was pleasantly warm, if a bit dark. Celia quickly set about turning on a few of the lamps, but Rowan headed straight for the ever-present tray of water and glasses near the comfortable sofas in the center in the room. He poured a glass so quickly the water splashed out, and drank it down just as fast before pouring himself another.

"Gosh, you are thirsty! exclaimed Celia as she lit the last lamp. She shed her cloak and dropped it on a nearby chair. Rowan only had a glimpse of the shimmery, silver-and-pink ball gown before she destroyed the image by settling on her knees on the sofa, draped over the back to talk to him. Maybe I should have put a bottle of wine in here instead."

Rowan rolled his eyes. Nice dress. You’re the perfect picture of a dutiful omega on the prowl.

Shut up, I like it, said Celia, blushing a bit. You clean up nicely yourself, Mr. Stereotype.

Rowan glanced down at his clothes with a frown. It took a few minutes of brushing to get the dust off his sleeves, but apart from his shoes no longer being perfectly shiny, he seemed to have fared all right in the passage way. His coat was a dark grey, almost black silk, and cut very close – perfectly acceptable for any young gentlemen, the tailor had assured him, no matter the presentation. The creamy white shirt was new, with hidden buttons and silver cufflinks, and his tie was a dark grey to match his coat.

The waistcoat was another story. Rowan still couldn’t decide if it was blue or green or something in between. The metallic threads made the entire piece shimmer, catching the light from all angles. It was a wet, wild, slippery thing that Rowan had loved the minute he saw it, even if the glimmer made it scream omega.

Rowan didn’t normally advertise his presentation. After all, it wasn’t as if he was really royalty – one had to go three generations back to find any royal blood in his line. He didn’t even have a proper title. But he couldn’t help but want the waistcoat, and his father hadn’t minded.

I’m not sure about the color, he admitted to Celia.

Nonsense, it really brings out your eyes, said Celia enthusiastically.

And my presentation, said Rowan dryly.

"How you expect to find anyone if they all think you’re a beta is beyond me," sniffed Celia.

Cousin, I could say something very pointed right now about what happens when people want you just because of your presentation, but I love you too much to do so, said Rowan. Celia gave him a shove.

It’s not just my presentation. It’s my nationality, too, said Celia, glumly. And the peace accord I bring with me.

That’s a good thing, Rowan reminded her. Think of all the people who are going to live because there won’t be any more battles for them to die in.

I know, said Celia, more serious now, and she rested her chin on her hands.

Like your older brother – or Amelia, continued Rowan.

"I know, repeated Celia crossly, perking up a little bit. Not that either of them are here, are they? Geoffrey refuses to come home until the ink is dry on the peace accords, and Amelia…."

Rowan snorted. "It’s Amelia. You know she doesn’t do parties like this."

Celia crossed her arms and pouted. "This one’s important. I wouldn’t have asked her otherwise! If she was as good a friend to me as she always says she is, she’d be here instead of holed up in her stupid little hovel on her stupid little mountain, carving stupid little blocks of wood."

I’ll tell her you said that, said Rowan.

Celia’s eyes flashed. "Good, do that! Let her think I actually care that she’s not here."

You just said you did!

"I did not! I don’t want her here anyway. She’s never given a fig that I was a princess before, so it shouldn’t surprise me that she doesn’t want to support me in my social obligations. She’s a commoner, she can just stay home and be common. Hmph."

Celia flounced back onto the couch, continuing her sulk. Rowan copied her movements, less to make fun and more to make her feel validated.

I’m a commoner, too, he pointed out.

You’re perfectly royal, protested Celia. Even if it’s three generations back.

No one even remembers that. I don’t even have a title. You didn’t drag me here just to talk about my lineage. Or Amelia.

Celia bit her lip and tapped her fingers on the couch cushions. Nooooo.

"Celia."

Celia sighed. All right. I met him.

Rowan’s eyes went wide. "I knew it."

I know, I know! cried Celia, falling back on the couch with a groan. She covered her face with her hands. "I couldn’t help it, Rowan. The whole family showed up this morning and the only people allowed to see him are servants. How unfair is it that servants are allowed to meet him when I’m not? I’m marrying him in a few months."

"What did you do?" asked Rowan.

Pretended I was a servant, of course, and brought him his lunch!

Rowan laughed. You didn’t spill it on him?

Celia kicked his thigh with a slipper-clad foot. No, you idiot. I was very well behaved. I talked to him a little.

Servants don’t talk, Rowan reminded her. "What did