Текст книги "The Alpha of Bleake Isle"

Автор книги: Kathryn Moon

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THE ALPHA OF BLEAKE ISLE

DRAGONKIN

BOOK I

KATHRYN MOON

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Copyright @ 2024 Kathryn Moon

The Alpha of Bleake Isle, Dragonkin Book 1

First publication: March 26th 2024

Cover Art by Covers by Combs

Editing by Bookish Dreams Editing and Jess Whetsel

Formatting by Kathryn Moon

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Kathryn Moon

ohkathrynmoon@gmail.com

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The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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To my little dragon

(She’s a cat.)

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Contents

About the book

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue

Afterword

Also by Kathryn Moon

About the Author

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About the book

This story was originally shared with chapter by chapter updates in rough draft form on my Patreon in starting in October of 2023. It has since been removed.

This version of omegaverse is unlike my Sweetverse series in many ways! It’s my goal that the information you need to understand the world in my head is here in the book. In fact, it would be difficult for me to lay out the rules here to you, without including some lies because this world of dragons and alphas and betas and omegas is on the precipice of great change. But if it wasn’t, we probably wouldn’t be here.

However for those who really want clear cut terms, here are some of the “rules” of this omegaverse…some of which might be lies:

Beta and Omega are closer to alternate terms for biological sex, meaning betas are male and omegas are female.

An alpha is the strongest dragon in a geographical region, and rules over the area like a king. They can be deposed by a beta during a physical challenge.

A new alpha undergoes physical changes that lead to them going into a rut, a cycle which reoccurs every ten years.

Betas or male dragons can only be conceived during a rut.

There is no mating, just partnership.

Aside from alphas, only beta dragons have wings. Some but not all of betas can transform into full dragons.

You can find more content information including TWs at kathrynmoon.com

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Chapter OneMAIRWEN

The melodious chatter of Lady Gertrude's afternoon fête was cleaved by a gasp of shock. I glanced up from the book in my hands, my own small squeak of surprise ringing out a moment too late.

The Alpha of Bleake Isle filled the open doorway.

Playing cards clattered to the table where Mother and her collective had gathered for whist. Crystal glasses of brandy thudded to trays and tables as Father and the other settled gentlemen sat up, their wings rustling in agitation. Even charming Adelaide, who never missed a note or ornamental trill of music on the pianoforte, struck a wrong key.

Today is suddenly so interesting, I thought, holding my breath in my chest, staring at the man who stood across from me.

No. Stood was too mundane a word. I'd seen the alpha, Lord Ronson Cadogan, nearly ten years ago, and another ten years before that, and the sight of him now made my heart race in terror as fast as it had when I was six and sixteen. Not that I should've expected otherwise. He hadn't changed at all. Not even by a single hair.

The man threatened his surroundings, even now, his great height and breadth forced to slightly hunch in Lady Gertrude's otherwise accommodating entrance, glaring at us all out of those black eyes. The talons at the joint of his wings scratched against the wood frame, the sound harsh and jolting in our silence. The afternoon sun streaming through Lady Gertrude's windows did not shine on the alpha, but soaked into him, as if absorbed by his surly stare and dark wings.

One thought was loud, no doubt echoing through every head in the room. What day was it? Had we somehow all lost a month of our calendars? Was it already the day of the selection?

Because as long as I had been alive, the esteemed and feared Lord Cadogan, our isle alpha, had not courted society for any other reason. Father had said he was a stern man of business, often pushing against the interests of the beta gentlemen, but to my knowledge, he made no effort to spend time in the company of omega gentlewomen.

"M-my lord!" Lady Gertrude cried, rising in all her ruffles from the window seat where she surveyed her guests. Words failed her after the exclamation.

My own tongue was tied, but that would've surprised none of the gathered dragonkin society. No, Mairwen the Mouse would have nothing to say. At least nothing of import. The loathsome nickname had ill-suited my appearance since I'd shot up suddenly at sixteen, taller than my own father and most of the men of my acquaintance, and yet Mairwen the Mouse I remained.

Not taller than the alpha, though. I choked on my sip of tea at the thought, then froze as those black eyes found me, like a great hungry cat hearing the scratch of my creature nickname. Not a great cat at all, though. A dragon, and as unlikely to be interested in me as one of his kind might be in a mouse.

For a moment, I held that stare. It was strange enough to be seen, to be noticed, by anyone these days. I'd taken their name for me to heart, finding small corners to hide and read in. Letting these tedious afternoons pass in my own silence was easier than trying to dig my way into conversations where I wasn't wanted, where Mother's friends could pick at my appearance or the beta gentlemen went out of their way to avoid engaging me in conversation or dance. But what did he see, now that he was looking? Was I the mouse at first glance to the alpha too?

"Lord Cadogan, you've quite smashed our merriment in all your terrible glory."

The dark stare left me abruptly, and I realized all at once that my face was warm and my fingers were clenching the arm of the chair. I shook myself and shrank back into the cushions, into my hiding, as the alpha's attention drifted. Only Adelaide Brys could say such an atrocious thing to the man who commanded all of us, everyone on this entire island, and receive the slight hint of a smirk. It was suddenly clear to me, and perhaps even I had realized the obvious a little late, that a month from now, the alpha would choose Adelaide at the selection ceremony.

Adelaide's flirting roused Lady Gertrude back to her generally remarkable hostessing abilities, and the plumply attractive older woman hurried across the room to greet the alpha and do her duty of introductions. Dragon wings rustled in agitation, the beta gentlemen ill at ease with their superior at hand.

He's gotten sick of waiting, I realized, watching the exchange, the way the alpha's gaze picked out each young omega in the room.

"How shocking for him to just appear like this!"

I looked up to find Sophia, another omega up for the selection, paused in front of me, eyes rapt on the alpha.

"Is it?" I asked. "Surely he was invited."

Sophia blinked and glanced at me, and I realized she'd been speaking absently, hadn't realized I was even here to answer.

"Well, he's never accepted before now," she said, as if we were all meant to go on doing exactly what we'd always done, our alpha included.

I hummed, and Sophia floated away, a pretty moth to the flame of the most powerful dragon in the room. It was said that after claiming the role, an alpha exuded the power of the ancient dragons we all descended from. I'd thought it a myth, until finding myself in a small parlor with the alpha himself. He was too potent for the delicate space, it was as if strength rolled off him in waves, buffeting against the lesser betas, catching nearby omegas like fish on hooks.

It had been half a century since Lord Cadogan had risen as alpha, and for five decades he'd neglected to select an omega to breed and bear his heir. The rumor I'd heard whispered plenty was that our alpha would not choose an omega with another dragon's scent on her. In this—as in many things, according to my father—Lord Cadogan was unlike his father before him. Our previous alpha had gleefully chosen an eligible omega girl of the gentry at nearly every selection. Lord Cadogan's own mother had only put a stop to the practice by very stubbornly refusing to die in childbirth, delivering her alpha a son at last.

The many beta gentlemen who'd all been offering beautiful Adelaide a captive audience hurried now to claim seats by their chosen young ladies, and I smirked at the sudden flurry. Only Hugh Gamesby, a hearty beta of only forty and who looked another twenty years younger still—a perfect match to Adelaide's youth and beauty—remained at the pianoforte, although his dark wings rustled and his feet stomped slightly whenever the alpha moved an inch closer to Hugh's intended.

Formerly intended.

I'd considered Hugh Gamesby quite a strong beta, experienced a faint sense of magnetism the few moments I was near him in the past. He'd seemed the sort of beta who might one day rise to alpha. Not now. Now he was a whisper, a withering note of strength that shrank against the stronger presence in the room. The one who prowled ever closer to Hugh's paramour.

Adelaide was exquisite. She was and had always been the personification of perfection. It was as if she'd been cut and stitched to be exactly to fashion. Her silky strawberry blonde hair was artfully twisted, coy curls falling to brush her collar. In her cherubic face, wide blue eyes glanced with deft and flirtatious precision. She was petite and only so gently curved as to be definitely feminine, bosom blushing prettily above her collar with the use of a good set of stays. I fidgeted in my own painfully tightened stays and tried to watch the trio slyly over the edge of my book, not that anyone would take note of my stare.

Adelaide was talented and sweet—impertinent too, but only to charm—and she had a natural omega perfume that even I found distracting. She was made for an alpha, would've been wasted on a beta like Hugh, and now it was inevitable.

Lord Cadogan would not wait for the selection ceremony, when all the young omegas had already been surreptitiously claimed by betas, marked with their scents to put him off. He would have Adelaide. I wondered if the ceremony would even take place, or if he would cart her off to his castle tonight.

It's so predictable, I thought, wishing I could rise up from my chair, turn the alpha in any other direction. Adelaide was the perfect omega, he was the precise definition of an alpha, and it was boring. Boring and…disappointing?

I shifted in my seat, trying to twist away from the scene, refocus on my book. I couldn't be jealous. I was lucky to even have a dragon suitor. Mr. Gryffyd Evans was over a century old, showing more than half his years, and not one of the omegas he'd chosen for a rut had survived childbirth—although several of the children had, all girls, long since grown. I'd been born in an unfortunate year, just a few months shy of having qualified for the last selection, and now by far the eldest omega available for the upcoming one. According to absolutely everyone, and most especially my parents, I ought to be delighted to be all but claimed by Mr. Evans.

I glanced in the beta's direction and found a hollow chill trickling down my spine at the sight of the old dragon, lips twisted in a sneer, proud jaw raised obstinately high.

I was lucky to have Mr. Evans's offer, and he appeared to know it. All the other omegas were now warily guarded by betas who could do no more than hover, not if our alpha really wanted to engage an omega. He would always take precedence. Only his curious distaste had prevented him from taking a rut partner in so many decades. And now he'd sorted that out for himself. But no, Mr. Gryffyd Evans was unfazed. Actually, he was frowning at me—probably not pleased with my potential—but he didn't look the least bit worried and made no move to guard my virtue or attention from Lord Cadogan.

And he needn't have been. Lady Gertrude made good work of introducing the alpha to everyone who mattered in the room. They didn't come within feet of me. No, our alpha stopped the niceties as soon as he'd reached the pianoforte, where Adelaide was playing and blushing, and ah, yes, now she was singing for him.

Good for her, I thought, not quite sure I meant it. Adelaide had given me the nickname of 'Mouse,' although she'd only been six at the time, when she found me hiding under a porch at another garden party, reading. It wasn't her fault it'd been so cheerfully adopted. And it wasn't her fault I'd let it be proven right, keeping to my corners, avoiding the stings of being corrected, rejected, dismissed by staying out of the way.

For a moment, I imagined rising from my seat, swanning across the room, accidentally brushing against the alpha to catch his attention…

And then what, you goose? And then my courage might fail, or I might say something rude but not coyly like Adelaide, or since a body like mine did not swan or brush, I might just end up squashing myself to the alpha and humiliating my family.

So I didn't move an inch, and I washed the bitter taste on my tongue down with a hearty gulp of tea.

To her credit, Adelaide was able to sing and play and smile, all while being glared at speculatively by those abyss black eyes. I certainly couldn't have done half that, even without Lord Cadogan towering over me like a brutal monolith of power. A handsome one, I admitted. More masculine and harsh in appearance than the beta dragons, with dark hair and a thick but short beard.

His smile was slow, predatory, and it stopped at the halfway point, as if he refused to put more effort into the act. He knew, as we all did, that he'd just found his match.

It was so obvious, actually. Inevitable.

I brought a tiny cake to my lips and lifted my book back to my nose, forcing myself to focus on the words, hoping for a better twist in the story.

"You must stop slouching. And we'll need new irons to try for her hair. Oh, Mairwen! Would you listen?!"

My mother didn't wait for my response, wresting the book from my hands to catch my attention at last. It was getting too dark in the carriage to read anyway.

"New irons won't work. They never work," I said, frowning. "Why are we bothering with worrying about my hair?"

"She's right, Gwennie. The matter is settled," my father said, patting my mother's hand where they sat across from me. But he was frowning too.

"No, it isn't, not at all, Albert. Not now that the alpha is determined to have a girl at the selection."

I'd missed too much of their conversation and assumed the entirely wrong meaning to my mother's words, a great burst of rare laughter exploding out of me.

"He's not about to choose me, no matter what we manage with my hair," I gusted out, eyes wide.

And it struck me, as they both wore puzzled and slightly disturbed expressions in response, that they'd never believed so either.

"Hugh Gamesby won't have Adelaide, and⁠—"

"Hugh Gamesby won't have me either," I said.

And once again, their faces said I was being obvious. Hugh wasn't as strong or huge as the alpha, but he was as handsome, fair and elegant like Adelaide rather than dark and burly like Lord Ronson Cadogan. Hugh and Adelaide would've made exquisite babies, and now I wondered what she would have instead. She and the alpha were so different in appearance, and she was slight. Her labors would be hard.

"There's going to be a great shuffling about, you mark my words," my mother continued, shooing away my comments like flies buzzing about her head. "I really do think our little Mouse could come out…well, maybe with a bit of our help, she might land George Hardaway."

I turned my head to gaze out the window of the carriage, hiding my wince. Not at George Hardaway—he would be an improvement, although still rather unlikely to choose me. No, I just hated when my parents called me "Mouse" too.

"And have me break my word with Mr. Evans? Gwennie, it's bad form, not to mention…well, not possible," my father said. He shot me a sympathetic glance, and I suspected we were thinking the same thing.

George Hardaway wouldn't ask for me. Not even if Adelaide being pulled from the ranks did send the omegas toppling down the line like dominoes, rearranging all the fresh courtships that had started to bud with the approach of the rut selection.

"If things are rearranged, I'm more likely to lose Mr. Evans than gain one of the others," I said, trying not to sound too hopeful.

My mother let out a wounded noise, but it wasn't for my sake. She just didn't want to face the truth.

"The matter is settled. You're not losing Mr. Evans," Father said, as if it could reassure me. "And we're not breaking our word to him. The deal is done."

I held my father's gaze, and it was like looking in a mirror. I had too many of his features, and too few of my mother's. He was handsome, of course, but even her bow lips would've made my face more cherubic. No, all I had from my mother was good hips and high cheekbones. It was not enough, not for what she wanted from me.

The carriage stopped in front of the house, and I let myself down before my father or the driver could help. The night was cool, a relief on my hot cheeks.

"Perhaps we should've put her out a few months early," Mother whispered.

"No, Gwennie. Even if he had chosen her then, she'd likely be dead by now. She was too young."

Why didn't he tell her the truth? If by some miracle or poor judgment Lord Cadogan had snapped me up when I was sixteen, my father would never have been able to wager me off to Mr. Evans. A deal Father would never break, because the money made was already in the process of being spent on our keeping a carriage and a driver at all. On repairing the roof so my mother wasn't dripped on.

Father's family fortune had been dwindling for years, and his income had been lost before my birth, when the current Alpha Cadogan had put a stop to indentured servitude. I'd only heard my parents whispering about the state of our finances a few years ago, and the revelations had come with a sick kind of relief. I would rather we be poor than be dressed in finery paid for by the trade of human flesh and labor.

So we could not afford to lose Mr. Evans. Or rather, my parents couldn't. And with the burden of me gone, the load would be lighter for them. That was good too.

I marched into the house, leaving them to their discussion. They loved one another, as dragonkin couples rarely did. My father had not only chosen my mother after a rut selection decades ago, but he'd kept her at his side all this time, without ever receiving a beta heir. Most gentlemen of dragonkin would've traded their omega in for a new one by now. But not Father. He loved my mother and was sincerely loved in return. They loved me too, I was sure. I was just not quite what I ought to be. I never had been.

If I'd been a boy, it would've been an improvement in so many ways, not least of which being my features might've actually suited me. Well, the ones on my face, at least. The rest of my body was decidedly feminine. But I would've been able to seek out some employment. Perhaps find a new means of income for our family, as my father seemed resigned to watching it wither away. As I was, my worth was in who might take me on. Mr. Evans appeared to be our only option.

I hurried up to my bedroom, breathing through my nose, stamping down on the rising tide of bile and anger always at hand since Father had told me of the decision. It was not my father's fault I was unpopular or that I was not pretty enough or that when I did choose to speak, I was too blunt and never charming. He'd done what he could for me, and now I had to⁠—

To survive. With Mr. Gryffyd Evans.

My eyes closed at the top edge of the stairs, and I wavered there for a moment, swaying, wondering what might change if I went toppling backwards.

You'll land on your ass and have a bruise, that's what. Don't be melodramatic.

I swallowed hard and carried on.

My parents would take a light supper together, probably in their rooms. And I'd eaten plenty of cakes and tarts at Lady Gertrude's.

I shut the door to my bedroom gently, pacing as I wrestled myself out of my binding clothes, stopping abruptly and scowling at myself in the mirror I'd hidden in the far corner of the room, out of my way.

I was too tall, and the baby fat around my face had never left, and I was quite too generously formed to look anything but lumpy in the dresses so in style. My hair was thick but determinedly pin straight, refusing to be styled, and my features were on the wrong side of plain. I couldn't begrudge Adelaide or the other omegas what would never have been a possibility for me. Even if no other dragon considered me for the selection, even if I stood on that stage naked and unscented, I would not be the alpha's choice.

My virtues as an omega were few, although my mother thought it likely I would survive childbirth and then most certainly outlive Mr. Evans. Small mercies, I thought, and then batted it away before I could feel dire and trapped again. But my worst deficiency of all was something not even rouge or a fierce set of laces on my stays could cure: I had almost no perfume. Sometimes, I really wasn't sure I had any at all, or if I just had a not unpleasant and nearly human sweat.

I tucked my nose to my shoulder now, found a hint of a sweetness, and my eyes stung. I squeezed them shut and hurried away from the mirror.

Be a mouse. Hide from what frightens you.

And the best means of hiding was…

Damn. My mother still had my book. I could retrieve it from her and subject myself to the persistent and painful topic she'd latched onto for the evening, or sink into the desperate thoughts that took all my strength to keep away.

I stripped down to my stays and chemise, fingers loosening the laces automatically, my steps wandering toward the window.

The view of the alpha's castle was a black shadow against the nearly set sun, the sky over the sea smeared in vivid golds and burgundy. There was a dark shape in the sky, sailing into the wind. A dragon—the alpha, of course—flying home after unsettling us all. From this distance, he looked more like an irritating thorn in the landscape than the imposing and powerful figure he'd been in Lady Gertrude's salon.

With one eye closed, I poised my fingers with his silhouette between them and then pinched them shut, imagining squishing him between my giant's grip.

I snorted and turned away, searching for one of my other discarded books to pass the evening.

Better stories in books than in life, I reminded myself. Happier endings too. Although, perhaps the alpha might stir up a little more trouble in the next month. One could hope.

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