Scott faced the sea of people as the elder began her speech. Her monotone voice droned on like a lullaby, but his senses only sharpened. The tension from the crowd was palpable, and the look of outrage and aprehension on the few faces he could make out was plain as day. It made him want to fold in on himself, to hunch in his shoulders and drop his gaze to his overly polished shoes. Showing submission to his people would only confirm what everyone was thinking: that Omegas should not be in positions of power. What was King John thinking, requesting that an Omega take his place on the throne? Surely, these weaker creatures were not strong enough to bear the weight of an entire kingdom. They could not deal with the stress of decision making, or think clearly for themselves. Omegas were not made for such a thing, and he would be the thing that brought this realm to ruins.

     A strong breeze suddenly tousled Scott's inky hair, breaking him of the suffocating thoughts that threatened to drown him. He clenched his small hands, realizing that they had begun shaking. He forced himself to stand a little straighter, trying to focus on the elder's words. He needed to steel himself. There was no room for error, especially now.

     He stood still for several more minutes, until he was finally asked to face the old woman. They were about the same height, both standing at a measly five foot, three inches. He must look like a joke to everyone. The elder's irises were pale. Perhaps at one point they had been been a vibrant blue, but age had washed them out, leaving only remanants of the color they once were around her pupils.

     "By the power vested in me and the late King John's final order, you, Scott Nathaniel Wilkey, crowned eldest prince of Othebia, shall be named King, and ruler of this blessed land." There was no hesitation in the old woman's voice as she reached up and placed the newly made crown on his dark curls.

    Immediately, there was an uproar in the crowd. Scott turned as they pushed forward, cries of protest invading his ears from all directions. His soldiers did their best to keep them at bay, but they were grossly outnumbered by the citizens of Othebia.

    For a few moments, Scott was allowed to gaze in awe as the crowd struggled for their voice. He had understood that Omega's were one of the most oppressed groups of humans, but until this moment, the reality of it had never really sunk in. He watched as one soldier crumbled to the ground after a civillian's vicious blow. Even from yards away, it made his stomach lurch. Yet he couldn't look away.

     "Your majesty," A warm hand fell on his shoulder and Scott's senses were filled with the sweet smell of musk and pine. A whimper escaped his lips, a distress call to the Alpha behind him. He was scared and he couldn't hide it any longer. "We must get you to safety." Suddenly, he was surrounded by men in black suits and was escorted back into the palace walls. The only the that held him together was the solid hand placed on his back. He just had to keep it together for a few moments longer. Just until he was no longer subject to the public's eye.

     Finally, the palace gates snapped shut with a deafening clang. He dropped to his knees, crown clattering to the ground in front of him. Now, he could show how weak he truly was.