Текст книги "The Alpha of Bleake Isle"

Автор книги: Kathryn Moon

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Chapter Twenty-SixRONSON

Where is my omega? I thought, entering the parlor, staring at the wilted creature in the armchair by the fire. Mairwen's eyes glittered in the light, but their amber glow had dulled. I swallowed hard around yet another snarl and then cleared my throat.

"The Posy carriage is called," I managed, refraining from the rest of what I would've liked to say. It's time to say goodbye to your damned parents. Unless you'd rather I simply toss them out without another word. Let's not invite them back.

I claimed a greedy gulp of air, stepping inside the parlor. Mairwen's perfume lingered here, remnants from another day, but it had withered to nothing since her parents' arrival. Still, any taste of her was a relief.

Mairwen rose from her seat, smoothing her skirt and wearing a placid smile as her mother babbled wishes of staying longer, her worry for her daughter.

"Please, M-Mairwen, you must⁠—"

No! "Omega," I called, cutting the woman off. Mairwen's glazed expression drifted in my direction. I extended my hand, and Mairwen sagged with a released breath, crossing toward me.

All night, the Posys had seemed to grasp and pluck at Mairwen's luster, like pulling feathers from a beautiful bird. And I had made the terrible mistake of keeping silent, of letting Mairwen take their subtle jabs and sweetly-delivered doubts. At first, I'd been more concerned with showing the Posys that I wasn't a tyrant of an alpha like my father, that I was taking good care of Mairwen, that she was happy here with me. Mairwen's quiet seemed out of character, and I'd thought it was only nerves, that she would want her parents to be pleased by the castle or by me, by her situation.

The truth arrived too late. The Posys had as little faith in their daughter as men like Gamesby, a fact they were not shy to express.

Mairwen reached my side, and I spared no time in wrapping my arm around her shoulders and tugging her against me. She was listless, leaning into me, her perfume vanished and replaced by a slightly bitter note. Here was the woman they called Mouse. Her shoulders had drawn up during dinner, closing around her as I might use my wings to shield me. Her eyes had dropped, rarely lifting, and the only flare of life I'd seen since the start of dinner was when I'd rebuked her father, color and life rising to her cheeks. Embarrassment, yes, and shock, but at least she'd been Mairwen in that moment. I should've gone on chewing her parents' ears, correcting every rotten word they'd said, praising every moment I'd spent with their daughter, but I'd been tied up in knots of anger, fairly certain that if I spoke another word, it would come with dragon's fire.

Better to get them out of the castle and coax Mairwen back to herself. I had a better idea of how to draw her perfume out now, but it wasn't her perfume I missed. Or not most of all.

"You look tired," I whispered to Mairwen as her mother bustled closer.

"I have such a headache," she admitted, her voice even softer than my own.

Mairwen's father watched us, something like understanding taking over his expression, his gaze on my hands where they spread over the base of her spine. Yes, you fool, I have the sense to be grateful for your daughter. To see her value. To-to⁠—

I stiffened, blinking down at Mairwen's head. It was tilting on her neck toward my chest, but not helping itself to its place there.

Albert Posy was still watching me as I lifted my stare, his eyes narrowed slightly and a bemused smile on his lips. He'd tried to press his case again over brandy, but he'd been docile and almost resigned at my stern refusal.

"I could not have dreamt of such a superior match for you, my dear," Lord Posy said to Mairwen.

You should have! I wanted to scream. You should've demanded it for her.

"Thank you, Papa," Mairwen said, but she didn't pull free of my embrace, only extended her hand to her father for a brief and gentle shake of hands.

"I hope you will both excuse us. Niall will see you to your carriage, but I should like to take my omega up to our nest," I said with the merest hint of a bow to the older couple.

Mairwen's mother's eyes widened. "Nest? Your-your nest?"

My hard smile came easily, my hands stroking up and down Mairwen's back as I puffed with pride. "I refuse to dismantle it. Mairwen did such a superb job." My omega pressed closer, her face lifting, eyes growing bright. I raised one hand to cup her jaw, to refuse her parents her gaze as I continued, "I could not have chosen a finer omega. Not if I had scoured every isle and all of dragonkin."

Mairwen's mother gaped, but I wouldn't let my omega look away from me, not until Niall had led the Posy's out of the parlor and down the hall. Mairwen's eyes welled, glossy tears clinging against her lower lashes, and her cheek pinched in where she chewed at it from the inside.

"I'm sorry," she gasped out.

I battled the urge to go tearing down the hall, roaring and snarling and scorching the backs of the Posys. They should've been Mairwen's respite from the judgment of the dragonkin. Instead, they appeared to have been one of the worst sources.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I said, my voice too rough and harsh.

Mairwen stiffened in my arms, braced herself, and opened her lips to say more. I dove down and stifled the words with a kiss. She didn't relax, just accepted the firm press of my lips to hers. The bitter edge of her scent eased, and she let out a whimper.

"Don't say another word on the topic, omega," I said, and this time I was able to purr through the growl. Mairwen's eyes fluttered shut, her shoulders softening with a sigh, and she wrapped her arms around me automatically as I bent and lifted her from the floor.

Mairwen was silent as I carried her up to our tower, her head resting on my shoulder. The longer she was quiet, the longer I said nothing, the more tense she grew in my arms. I needed to get her into our nest, to kiss every inch of her, to pay her every compliment, before she managed to vanish in front of me completely.

"I meant what I said to them, Mairwen."

Her breath caught, and I glanced down, my heart dropping several stories at the sheen of tears on her cheeks. She didn't answer me, but her fingers dug fiercely into my shoulder, crumpling my dinner jacket in her fists.

"I've never considered myself a lucky person, but I can only grant the moment I saw you wandering through the woods as Gamesby and Adelaide plotted my murder as divine intervention—the old dragons showing me the better path."

Mairwen's brow furrowed, and she lifted her chin. "You wouldn't have chosen Adelaide after hearing all that. I didn't need to be there."

"Discovering the plot was not the part where I got lucky, omega," I purred.

And there! I praised every star in the sky for the little puff of Mairwen's perfume.

"Then again, the first time Niall saw you, he told me you were the most interesting omega of the lot," I continued. "So perhaps I would've taken his advice while on stage."

Mairwen was silent all the way until we reached the door of our room.

"If the first words you had ever said to me were 'You'll do,' I would certainly have vomited on your boots," she said.

I laughed, and another whisper of her scent reached me. "I should've chosen those words more carefully. I should've said…" You're mine, I thought, but couldn't quite say.

"'Hello, have you considered foregoing your corsets?'" Mairwen suggested, the bright note of her voice that I'd ached for all evening finally reappearing.

I laughed again and hurried us into the nest, depositing Mairwen in the cushions and turning back to yank our curtains shut. The fire in the grate illuminated the room, and the curtains were sheer, so there was just enough light to see the tiny smile on Mairwen's lips and the tired droop of her eyelids as she fell backwards into the pillows, rolling onto her side. She had a headache, and she was bruised, my perfect, succulent little omega.

I climbed over her, and Mairwen's face buried itself into the pillow as I untied the laces of her dress. Her seamstress had altered many of Mairwen's garments—formal and intimate alike—in ways I wholeheartedly approved of, including the silk shifts Mairwen wore against her skin. They had delicate little barely-there straps and were trimmed with lace, the back and collar plunging low so that when I opened her dress, there was lovely bare skin in view.

I leaned forward, kissing the nape of Mairwen's neck, brushing my thumb over the goose bumps that rose. "I should've said, 'Hello, I know we haven't spoken'" —another kiss, this one below the first– "'but I think,'" I continued, purring and whispering, gently pushing the sleeves of Mairwen's gown down until they reached her elbows and she drew her arms free, "'you are exactly what I need.'"

The words might not have been true at the time. I had fewer doubts about Mairwen than the rest of dragonkin, but not none. Still, they were the words I wished I could've given her.

Mairwen sniffled into the pillow and I paused, hovering above her, wrestling with the urge to strip her bare, plunge myself inside of her, and bring her so much pleasure, all thoughts of her parents or the rest of society were washed away.

There was another impulse. A gentler one. Mairwen knew our bodies hungered for one another, but there'd been little time to share much else with her.

I undressed her slowly, purring all the while, stroking her back and her hips when she shuddered with tears, rubbing her legs as I unrolled her stockings, until she was left only in the beautifully-shaped silk slip, one so perfectly crafted that it wrapped around her like a breeze or the sea water we sometimes went swimming in together. If Mairwen had to wear anything at all, it should only have been those slips.

I kept that thought to myself, pulling a sheet up to cover her from any chill before undressing myself with more haste. I kept my purr rumbling. If I wasn't going to give her my knot, purring was my next best alpha gift on offer. I kept an eye on her body, the little trembles that came and went, the incredible rise and fall and rise again of her silhouetted figure.

When I was bare, I slid under the sheet, the thrum in my chest roaring as Mairwen's hand reached back for me, catching my own and drawing my arm around her. It wasn't enough. I bundled her up, tangling her legs between mine, circling her in my arms, pressing myself to her back so closely that she too rattled, as if producing her own purr.

Little by little, her quavering sighs melted to steady breaths and her perfume laced around us, even as she sank into a weary sleep. I remained awake, remained purring, telling myself it would assure that even her dreams were safe for her that night.

It was unsettling to wake the next morning and find that Mairwen had slipped away before I woke. It was even more aggravating that it was not her I found in the hall, but my brother.

"Where's Mairwen?"

"In the library," he said, as if he'd known precisely what question would be first out of my mouth.

I'd only dressed in a loose linen shirt and worn trousers, and I paused in the hall, narrowing my eyes at Niall. "Why do you know that?"

He smirked. "Because I spoke to her there."

"Whatever business you have for me will have to wait a little," I said, scuffing my hand over my hair and eyeing the stairs, wanting my omega to appear. "I need to speak with Mairwen about the Flight of Alphas."

"Mm, that's what she's working on. Researching all the families," Niall said, nodding and turning to follow me.

I froze, blinking back at Niall. "Is she?"

Niall stopped too, reading me too easily. His voice lowered, and he leaned in, glaring. "Ronson…what about the Flight of Alphas were you hoping to discuss with her?"

I sighed, stretching my wings back to touch their spines to the cool stone wall. "I am wondering if it wouldn't be better if Mairwen remained here instead of joining me."

Niall's expression flattened, and he drew himself up. I sometimes forgot that my brother was nearly my own height. "Do you? Ronson, I…" He shook his head, rolling his eyes skyward. "Do you realize what a monumental mistake that would be? I know your motivations. I know what you feel for that young woman⁠—"

"You were there last night," I hissed. "You saw what the Posys put her through."

Niall stepped forward, and I was too baffled by his raised fist to do anything but watch as it approached my face. If he'd been inclined, he could've landed quite the punch in that moment. Instead, he thumped firmly against my forehead, as if knocking on a locked door.

"You're an idiot," he said simply. "I saw Mairwen's parents express every possible doubt as to her competency as your omega."

"Fuck." The word grunted out of me as Niall's words sunk into my thick skull.

"And, yes, I saw how it belittled her confidence until she bore next to no resemblance to the woman I'd grown acquainted with here in the castle," Niall continued, leaving the obvious unspoken.

If I suggested to Mairwen that she might not be ready to join me at the Flight of Alphas, I would be confirming those doubts the Posys had tossed about last night. Which was unacceptable.

"I'll admit that I can't guess what the others will think of Mairwen, but I will give even the worst of the lot the credit that they probably won't offer her insults to her face. Not like the ones she suffered last night," Niall muttered with a shake of his head, matching my pose against the wall opposite me. "If you show half the restraint you did with the Posys, we won't have a diplomatic issue on our hands either."

I laughed and let my head thunk against the stone behind me. "You would've made a good alpha," I said.

Niall was quiet, and I lifted my head to find him staring back at me, startled. "Thank you. But believe it or not, I do prefer my current position," he said.

"You deserve more respect."

Niall huffed and waved his hand, turning back to the end of the hall. "Much easier to get my work done when people only pay attention to me for the wrong reasons."

I followed, catching my brother by the shoulder, turning him to face me. "I mean it, Niall. Thank you."

He flushed, and his eyes darted every direction but mine for a moment, but he let out a breath and settled, nodding. "You would've been intolerably distracted if you'd hurt her feelings. I can barely keep you focused as it is. But come, no doubt by now Mairwen will be ready to teach you a thing or two about the history of dragonkin politics."

I clapped Niall's back and hauled him alongside me to my omega.

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Chapter Twenty-SevenMAIRWEN

‘Our Alpha Falk, a goode reign of one hundred years or more, following the death of her mate⁠—'

I blinked at the page, my finger beneath the word mate, my other hand lifting a cup of tea to my lips. Slowly, I lowered the tea and set it aside, safely away from the ancient text.

'Following the death of her mate…'

Alpha Falk was a woman?

I'd found the word mate a number of times in regards to these historic alphas, and as near as I could tell, it referred to the omega an alpha had chosen to remain by his side for a lifetime. They usually produced male heirs at an irregular rate—more frequently than the ten-year cycle of a rut, to be sure—and were included in histories of flights, battles, and politics. But never had I heard of an omega mate rising to the rule of alpha. Had it been an honorary title offered during a time of peace?

No, I remembered this area in the records of battles, and there'd been at least three in the century she would've ruled. I'd only assumed that she was the same Alpha Falk as her alp—mate.

I marked the page with a ribbon and then pushed back from my seat. Niall and Ronson were at the ports today, meeting with local merchants, which left me and Beatrice with the run of the castle. Her office was only two corridors away, and I hurried there, my hands fiddling in the deep pockets of one of my new dresses.

I'd told Ronson I would be researching the family lines of significant dragonkin today, and in a way, I was, but I'd long since worked through any information that might be relevant for the upcoming flight. No, for the past two days, I'd been searching for more mentions of mates. It seemed as though the further back I searched, the more I found, and I knew there must be some piece still missing, something that explained what made an omega mate different than an omega rut partner. It was possible that the word had simply fallen out of fashion, but every time I tried to push my curiosity aside, it continued to itch in my thoughts.

There had to be more.

I burst into Beatrice's study, and received her usual arched eyebrows in reply. But she smiled slightly too and set down her pen.

"What seems to be the matter, Mairwen?"

"Where…where do we keep the portraits of old alphas? The ones we no longer display?" I asked.

Beatrice hummed for a moment, head tilting. "There are a few attics that might serve as storage for that sort of thing," she said, rising and drawing a heavy ring of keys from her desk drawer, older and simpler-looking than the ones she carried at her hip day-to-day. "Some underground storerooms too, though I can't say what state anything would be in, if that were the case."

"I don't mind searching on my own, if you'd rather not," I said, almost wishing Beatrice might hand me the ring and leave me to it.

Not that I didn't like the older woman—she was wonderful and we'd grown to be friends. And I suspected if anyone else in the castle would be thrilled to learn of a woman alpha in our history, it would be Beatrice. But it was my mystery for the moment.

Beatrice pursed her lips, and I sighed, relenting. "But I think…if I find what I'm looking for, you'd like to see it too," I admitted.

"Lead the way, Omega Cadogan," she said with a smile.

I blinked, turning toward the door, then paused and winced. "Well…actually, I don't know the way."

Beatrice laughed, and we set off together.

Two attics, one lower keep, and a very large closet later, I was giving up hope.

"Perhaps they didn't keep them after all," I murmured.

"Unlikely," Beatrice said, huffing and throwing a large sheet back over a collection of boxes that housed old dinnerware. "Dragons hoard, not discard."

I chewed on the inside of my lip briefly. "There is much of our history that it seems was…nearly erased."

"Nearly, yes," Beatrice said, leading us back out of the closet. "But you found it in the library, didn't you? Because whatever our alpha predecessors did not want the public to know, they couldn't bring themselves to destroy outright. If it exists, Mairwen, it will be here. Somewhere. Come, there's a long flight directly up to the attic just this way."

Truth be told, I was quite tired of running up and down long flights of stairs and starting to wonder whether I really needed to see a portrait of this woman alpha anyways, not when there was written proof, however brief, of her existence. But Beatrice was in motion, and I followed, partly embarrassed to admit I could barely keep up with her and partly afraid she might find the portrait before me.

My thighs burned, and I was making a galling amount of noise, huffing and puffing my way up the narrow spiraling stairs, always watching Beatrice's skirt disappear out of sight. When I thought I was near to fainting, near to falling backwards and toppling my way back to the hall, near to sitting down on this exact step to wait for Ronson to come and find me and fly me about—up or down, I didn't care—I finally heard a door creak above me.

"Aha!" Beatrice's voice curled its way to my ear. "This looks more like it."

And with that, I regained my last reserves of energy and hurried up after her.

The air was hazy with dust, light falling through two opposing stained glass windows with simple diamond patterns in a mismatch of colors, painting the large rectangular drapes of sheets. Beatrice hadn't touched a single one, and she stood at the center of the room, smiling and waiting for me.

"I assumed you'd like to do the honors," she said.

I really liked this woman.

"Thank you," I said, nodding. I was breathless and my legs were trembling, and my pretty new dress now clung damply to me in uncomfortable places, but I smoothed my skirts with clammy hands and stepped forward.

The first few portraits I uncovered were fairly typical—an alpha standing alone along a cliffside, or perhaps with an omega at his side, sometimes even a child. I grunted as I pushed aside a family portrait that Beatrice examined in the shifting light of the windows.

One after another, I uncovered a painting, frowning to find another man, another pair of wings, another dragon on the skyline. She had reigned for one hundred years. Surely. Surely there'd been a portrait. Or had that been a line too far for the preservation of history? Had her portrait been destroyed? Was she only one of the women in the many I'd already uncovered?

"Mairwen, there is…something curious in these," Beatrice murmured behind me.

But I was busy lifting another sheet of linen, pausing halfway to see a solitary figure in an enormous brocade skirt filling the frame, gilded with beads and pearls and a belt made of lattice gold and huge rubies.

"Beatrice," I hissed, jumping up to throw back the curtain of linen, marveling at what I found.

The portrait was very old, the style of figure stiff and simplified, but the subject was undeniable. Beatrice gasped behind me, stumbling closer, and together we stared at the woman in the frame.

The woman…with wings.

"Alpha Falk," I murmured, finding the broach over her chest with the Falk family crest. She'd kept her own alpha mate's name and crest, instead of whatever family line she'd been born into.

"She is…she was… Mairwen, are those wings…symbolic?" Beatrice asked, her eyes wide and lips remaining parted.

I shook my head. "I don't know. But…how?"

An answer was impossible, so for a long stretch, Beatrice and I remained standing together in silence, staring up into the hard and mischievous eyes of the woman in the portrait. What had her first name been? Had she kept the name Falk because she was mated, whatever that meant, or because she loved the alpha who chose her, or simply for the sake of her rule as alpha?

Had she been able to fly?

I smiled as I studied her. She'd not been very pretty, I noticed. Not by today's standards. Her face was quite round and her shoulders very broad. There was no hint of a bosom in the image, and her waist was almost squared to her chest. But she looked clever. She looked like the kind of woman who could rule as alpha—a concept I hadn't ever considered before today.

Her wings were a warm shade of brown, and they took up most of the background of the portrait. It was obvious the intention was to show them, to show that she'd had them. They had the most detail of any piece of her, even of all the jewelry, the leathery texture so carefully transcribed in paint, the glow of a sunset bleeding through the wing on the right.

"Mairwen, look," Beatrice said gently, tiptoeing closer, raising a hand up to Alpha Falk's throat.

I frowned, inching up to join Beatrice, squinting at the slight discoloration of her skin, little pink and silver highlights at the curve where neck met shoulder.

"Is that…is that a bite?" I asked, almost whispering.

"I'm not sure," Beatrice admitted, taking my hand and drawing me back, turning me to face the other portraits. "But she isn't the only one with the mark."

It took me a moment—my head was still spinning at the discovery of Alpha Falk with wings—but finally I caught a glimmer on the throat of a young and pretty woman smiling cheerfully at the side of an absolutely terrifying alpha. I hurried closer, hunting their clothes until I found a family signet ring on the alpha's hand. Blue stone, rose marking. Alpha Grimshaw and his mate.

My hand rose up to press over my chest as I rushed to the next portrait, no mark on the woman's throat this time. Alpha Brand, who'd chosen a handful of omegas to rut with, without any mention of a mate.

And the next, marked, bitten. Alpha Unger. His mate was recorded as having established the first schools for young women on the island, both human and dragonkin.

The bite marks. They were mating marks.

I couldn't recall every family crest—my head was spinning too fast—but I knew enough to confirm a few more of the portraits, until the sun started setting outside and the room we stood in grew dim. Ronson would return soon. He would take me back to the nest with him, all eager and hungry. He would…

My cheeks were warm as I turned and found Beatrice watching me, her gaze on my throat, at the curve of my shoulder, where curved dark bruises marked my skin. I resisted the urge to lift my hand and cover the marks, it wouldn't do any good now.

"We should…we should cover these back up," I rasped out.

Beatrice glanced at the portraits that surrounded us, lingering on Alpha Falk, glowing in the last rays of the day. "For now," she murmured.

Yes, I thought. For now.

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