Текст книги "The Alpha of Bleake Isle"

Автор книги: Kathryn Moon

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Chapter Thirty-TwoRONSON

My claws dug into my palms as I stared at Mairwen.

Perfect. She was so fucking perfect.

I wondered if she realized how Palmer's stare slid in her direction every so often, brow puzzling into a knot. How Gamesby couldn't bear to look at her, but his nostrils flared with hunger when she passed him.

Mairwen was gleaming, pale skin shining like a jewel, mouthwatering bosom lifted and presented like a feast, only the first course revealed by the heart-shaped neckline of the dress that stroked over her, velvet laced to a cinch around her waist, scooping below the silk of the gown. Her smooth, shining hair was twisted back, pinned in soft loops and thick braids, a few heavy locks left to hang in loose curls over her shoulder. Her eyes glowed in the firelight, ambers lit from within.

It was laughable to imagine that I or anyone else had ever considered Mairwen plain, insanity to think that a poorly-fitted corset could've disguised the truth. She was almost too beautiful to behold. The welcoming stretch of her full mouth as she smiled, lips peachy-pink and glistening from the brandy she sipped, pursed as she struggled to restrain a laugh at some dry remark of Beatrice's. It was all I could do to keep from dropping to my knees, crawling to my omega to beg for the gift of a kiss.

As if I'd be able to stop at one.

I was going mad.

Not because I found Mairwen beautiful—that was proof of some sanity left in me.

No, I was losing my mind because I was seriously considering letting out a roar, transforming into my dragon to chase our company out of the room, so I might be alone with my omega. So I could ask her the words burning on my tongue.

Mairwen rested her empty glass on the side table, and I licked my lips, watching her long, pale fingers cup and then clap together. Adelaide had started playing the pianoforte and singing some time ago, and it was a relief to have the room's attention turned away from Mairwen so that I might admire her in peace. I wanted the entire world to acknowledge how exquisite she was, and then I wanted them all to leave us be, so I could appreciate her privately.

"Oh, Mouse⁠—"

I let out a growl, a reflex at that absurd nickname, but Mairwen's elbow launched off the arm of her chair and into the side of my thigh, cutting off the sound abruptly.

Adelaide swallowed but forced a smile to her lips, her narrowed stare on my omega. "Shouldn't it be your turn by now?"

Mairwen murmured an assent, her cheeks flushing, and she made to rise from the chair.

Across the room, Gamesby let out a bark of laughter. "Does the Mouse play music?" He was deep in his cups, too free with his tongue, and even Palmer shot him a quelling glance from the card table. "I've never heard such a thing."

"Nor have I, truth be told," Adelaide said, smirking slightly.

It was some kind of trap, an obvious attempt to belittle Mairwen. And come to think of it, I had also never heard Mairwen play, so perhaps she didn't, or maybe she was terrible, neither of which I cared the slightest about.

"No," I said, too sharply.

Mairwen was on her feet and she flinched, her eyes wide and the lovely blush over her cheeks turning spotty and red. Beatrice glared at me from her seat, and Niall refused to lift his eyes from the cards, but I knew straight away the error I'd made, all but confirming Adelaide and Gamesby's lack of faith.

"Unless…you want to, of course," I stumbled out, catching Mairwen's hand with mine. "I know you are…tired from our travels."

Mairwen's stare searched me, and I wanted to drag her into my arms, kiss away the worry on her brow, apologize for being an idiot, and tell her I'd be more than happy to listen to her sing bar songs and sea shanties and nursery rhymes if it suited her. It wouldn't matter if she were awful. I might not even be able to tell, too thoroughly besotted.

"I enjoy playing," she said softly, squeezing my fingers.

Oh. Well. If she enjoyed it, then I was incapable of arguing.

I took the seat she vacated, and Adelaide remained smug, flouncing her way back to Gamesby's side. If they laughed, if they so much as blinked in mockery during her performance, I would eat them alive. Niall would forgive me. Eventually.

Except as Mairwen sat calmly down on the velvet bench, the spotlight glow of the oil lamp enveloped her, casting her in gold, and my attention was hers entirely. She closed the sheet music Adelaide had been using and set it aside, not pulling anything out for herself. Her hands rested on the keys, and I was jealous of every place where her fingertips touched ivory instead of me.

It was obvious by the first bar of music that Adelaide and Gamesby really never had heard Mairwen play, or they wouldn't have dared issue the challenge. The melody was simple, but the music was liquid, notes not plucked and tapped but blending into one another. My lips curved, an unguarded smile taking over my face. It was obvious Mairwen did enjoy playing. She was calm and proud, back straight and eyes drifting, not needing to stare down at her hands.

But when she sang…

When she sang, I stopped breathing.

The card game came to a halt, and I only noticed because it meant there was no other sound in the room, no other voice but hers. Mairwen's voice was heavy and open, hollow and echoing, swinging low and floating high, and it carved through my chest like dragon talons. The words were there, a pretty and tragic story about betrayed love, words I wanted to steal from her lips because Mairwen should never even have to think about such a thing.

Why did it sound as though she knew heartbreak? Why did her voice cry with tears? Had she loved someone? Someone who'd left her behind?

I would tear them limb from limb, then thank them for leaving the road open for me to claim my omega.

Her breath shuddered on a sigh, and the room breathed with her before going still as her voice rose sweetly, a perfect contrast to the desolate woe of the heroine.

Mairwen was casting a spell, or perhaps she was pulling aside the enchantment, the one that had fooled this island into seeing a mouse, so easily overlooked. And what was behind the curtain was terrifying and divine, a woman capable of offering salvation or devastation to your heart. I wanted to slide off the chair and down to the floor, to crawl across the room and offer myself prostrate to Mairwen's whims, but I was frozen in place.

Her voice sank, down into the dark fathoms of water where the heroine was left to perish, and my heart in my chest cracked open to let the sea in to drown me too.

Mine. Mine, mine, mine, the dragon in me crowed in victorious chorus.

For a moment, as the last chord of the music hung in the air, we all remained trapped. Don't leave us here, I thought irrationally, as if Mairwen might suddenly vanish before us, the magic of her now at an end. But then her hands fell to her lap and her face turned toward us, toward me, eyes open and a little nervous.

And still I couldn't move.

Thank the ancestors for Niall and Beatrice, who started the applause, a jarring cacophony after Mairwen's offering of pure music, but it did the trick of rousing us from her spell.

Buchanan's chair squawked as he rose from his seat, clapping quite roughly, and Palmer joined in, although his eyes were wide on Mairwen, seeing her for the first time.

I didn't want him to see her. I didn't want any of them looking at her.

Mine, my dragon growled.

And so she was.

I rose from my chair, noting them all—even Gamesby and Adelaide were offering compliments, although in a daze, as if they'd forgotten why they coaxed her into playing—but not bothering to look anywhere but at Mairwen. Just as she never tore her gaze from mine, licking at her bottom lip and then tucking it between her teeth. I prowled to her, blocking her from their view. My omega. My… There wasn't a word for what Mairwen really was to me. I needed one. I needed her. Immediately.

"That's enough for the evening," I said, my voice rough, and Mairwen blushed and looked down into her lap.

No. Look at me. See me as I see you, I wanted to shout.

There was a brief bout of laughter, but cards were abandoned on the table, and soon footsteps were retreating.

"I'll see them out in the morning," Niall said, the last to leave.

I nodded without turning. "Good. Thank you."

"Ronson—" Mairwen started.

The door clicked shut, and I dropped to my knees before her, sighing in relief as I found her eyes again and watched them widen in surprise.

"You were never a mouse," I growled out, and Mairwen's lips parted. I grasped her hips in mine, trying not to let my talons prick the fabric. The dress was a rich shade of copper, earthy but regal. I hadn't noticed before, too fixated on the way it touched her. "A mouse could not have worked the magic you just did."

"Magic?" Mairwen echoed, reaching for me, fingers brushing against my jaw.

I leaned into her touch and tried not to let the desperate urge to consume her take me too soon. "You held the heart of every dragon in the room in your grip, Mairwen. You lured them into the water, deep into the ocean's belly, and then left them there to freeze. You are a siren, omega."

Mairwen's breath hitched and her eyes watered, but she blinked the sheen away. "What…what about your heart?"

I gaped up at her, marveling at the words, the tremor in her voice, the uncertain shyness of her eyes. I caught Mairwen's hand in mine as she started to pull away, dragging it back, flattening it over my heart.

"Mairwen. Is this not your fist in my chest? You clasped it around my heart, and you now demand every beat it issues." Her eyes were huge, liquidy, and luminous, and I saw the question on her lips, couldn't bear her doubt. "Mairwen," I pleaded, releasing her hand on my chest in order to grasp her face, to rise up and meet her and seal my mouth over hers, tongue stroking in to steal the wonder. Was there a way to kiss my omega so that she would know, know for certain, what I saw when I looked at her? I tried to find it, tried to pour in my gratitude and amazement, my hunger and affection.

"Mairwen," I sighed as her arms circled my shoulders, as she pulled me over her, our bodies bowed over the piano bench. "Mairwen, I can't lose you. Please…please tell me."

"I'm yours," Mairwen breathed, reaching for my face again, nipping at my lips.

I purred, my dragon pleased with her answer. But it wasn't what I needed to hear. I groaned as I sat up, then quickly gathered Mairwen in my arms, shifting until I sat on the bench with her cuddled against my chest, skirts pushed high so I could fit between her thighs. And as urgently as I needed her answer, my hands needed the feel of her in their grip, sliding beneath her skirt, trembling with satisfaction as I found the backs of her thighs, soft and ample and in my possession.

"Tell me you drank the tea, Mairwen," I said, and the words cut a wound on my tongue.

I'd waited decades for an heir. It had been my only goal since I'd defeated my father, the one tool I needed to acquire to secure my rule. But I'd pursued it half-heartedly, and now I knew why.

I need Mairwen far more.

"Tell me," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut against the damp sting that grew there, biting at her jaw, her cheek, her earlobe. "Please, I need to… I need to know you are safe. That you're mine and I won't lose you. Tell me you drank the tea."

"Ronson?" She pushed gently at my chest, but I didn't want to meet her eyes as she told me that it was her duty to give me an heir. "Ronson, my love⁠—"

I gasped, bucking up against her, squeezing and pulling her closer. My love. Not my alpha or my lord. Had I imagined the words? Or were they meaningless sweetness?

Mairwen's hands clasped my face as she leaned back, and I helped myself to a generous gape at her bosom, flushed and full and mouth-wateringly perfect, before she forcefully dragged my gaze up. There was an indulgent smile on her lips, one I wanted to lick into, swallow whole with every other bit of her.

"Ronson," she said softly, thumbs stroking my cheeks. Her voice lowered to the most delicate whisper, body bowing forward to rest her brow against mine. "I drank the tea. It's all right. It's…fine, I'm safe, I⁠—"

I groaned, swallowing her words, my hands—two was such an inadequate number when it came to touching Mairwen—fumbling eagerly at her hips, up to cup the nape of her neck and hold her close as I claimed her lips. Her breath caught on pretty sighs as she looped her arms and legs around me, and I debated the comfort of the piano bench compared to the floor or the time it might take to fly up her to the nest. A few broken fragments of thoughts clambered in my head, spiraling in the burst of relief still coursing through me before linking together.

"Just-just for the rut, or—" I asked, panting. There were still dangers, even when birthing a child without wings, and the thought of Mairwen at risk created a panic in my chest that it didn't seem capable of containing.

She shook her head, nuzzling against my cheek in the process, and I traced the tip of my tongue against her jaw.

"I wasn't… I was afraid you might…"

I knew that fragile note in Mairwen's voice, and it calmed me enough to meet her eyes just as they skittered away. "Omega," I pressed, my tone darkening in a command I knew she softened for.

"I wondered if perhaps you might…prefer there was no child. So you could choose⁠—"

I clapped a hand over her lips, my eyes wide, head shaking automatically. No. No, Mairwen, I wanted to cry. It hadn't occurred to me at the time, before the rut, that Mairwen might assume I wanted no issue between us for my own sake.

Her fingers caught at mine, pulling them from her face. "And I'm not quite ready yet," she added gently.

I puffed out a breath, and Mairwen offered me a crooked smile. I drew her back against my chest, breathing in her perfume to calm my racing heart, my tripping thoughts. Mairwen melted into me, and my eyes shut on the sting once more.

"I will never let you go, Mairwen," I murmured, pressing a kiss to the curve of her shoulder.

She sniffled against me, her hands finding my wings and grabbing their base.

"The only thing I want more than to have a child with you, is to ensure you remain at my side for as long as possible," I added with another kiss. Already, the disparity in our lifespans was digging a hole into my chest. Mairwen would age too soon, die too soon. I wondered if I told Gamesby that when Mairwen died, I would lose all strength to fight him, that perhaps he might leave us in peace until that time. No, that would only put Mairwen in the firing line.

"Do you believe me?" I asked, lifting us from the bench, wrapping an arm under Mairwen's ass to hold her wrapped around me. She was still for a moment before nodding against my shoulder. That wouldn't do. "Look at me, Mairwen. You have to say it. Do you believe me? Believe that I want you more than anything else in this world? More than an heir, or to be alpha. More than this castle or this isle. Fang's fire, omega, the number of times I've thought about carting you off to find somewhere just for the two of us to live in peace…"

Mairwen laughed at that and finally lifted her head. She was perfuming so strongly I could've drowned in it, but for once I could focus through the haze of hunger. Her eyes were damp but bright, her smile wide, her cheeks pink and full.

"Yes, Ronson, I believe you," she murmured, quietly and sweetly, but without hesitating or glancing away.

"Good," I said, which was an inadequate word for the enormous second sun that was growing in my chest, lighting me from the inside out.

"There's-there's something we should discuss. Something I found in the library," Mairwen said as I carried her to the tall windows.

"Later. I'm taking you up to our nest, my pretty siren." I squeezed at her hips, grinning up at her, panting in the gasps of perfume she was granting me.

Mairwen's gaze hooded, her smile languid and wicked. If there had been a beta in the room to see that smile, I would've had to kill them. I opened the window, stepping up onto the ledge, and Mairwen tightened her thighs around my hips, preparing for the flight up to our nest.

"Alpha, you must promise not to bite me until after I've shown you what I've found," Mairwen said, kissing along my jaw, nipping at my lobe.

The words should've struck me, but my omega was so close, so warm, and the scent of her made my mouth water and my cock stiffen.

"Don't tease me, omega, or I'll be inside you before we've reached the nest," I answered, groaning as she perfumed in answer.

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Chapter Thirty-ThreeMAIRWEN

Strong hands with calloused fingers stroked down my back, occasionally digging into muscle. I tried to fight my smile, my squirms of pleasure, but it was useless. Daylight crept into the nest. I was awake and Ronson knew it.

Ronson.

My siren. My omega. My perfect girl.

I buried my face into the pillow, clinging to all the impossible things he'd said the night before.

"Mairwen," Ronson purred, my name sweet and coaxing.

And I remembered that those wonderful words he'd spoken weren't impossible after all. I grinned and rolled over, and Ronson's always somber and serious face brightened in an answering smile.

"There you are. Fucking beautiful," he whispered, head ducking and lips soothing gently over mine.

I wrapped myself around my alpha, sighing at the weight of him against me. "Good morning, alpha."

Ronson rumbled and groaned, kissing up my jaw and down my throat, and I arched for him, offering the spot I knew he was searching for.

He stopped there, breathing roughly against my shoulder, and then pressed a long, chaste kiss to the bruises. "Mairwen," he started slowly, lifting away to meet my gaze. "What did you mean when you said I couldn't bite you until after you'd explained what you found in the library?"

I stilled, and thought rose up in a flurry. I'd spoken in the heat of the moment, in the shelter of Ronson's warm stare and loving words, but what if he'd only been reassuring me? What if he'd been responding to my perfume and a moment of pride? What if the words he'd said—that I had his heart—were temporary? Because what I'd learned about mating was…permanent.

Ronson watched me, brow tensing, lips hardening, but he relaxed with a brief brush of my fingers over his jaw. "Whatever it is, you can trust me, Mairwen."

I can't lose you.

I took a deep breath and nodded. If Ronson didn't want to be mated to me, to tie my life to his, then he would know not to bite me. And if I didn't tell him, perhaps his control might break one day, even in another ten years during another rut…he might mate me without realizing the consequences, and it would be worse to know for many, many decades that he regretted doing so than it would be to accept that he would choose not to.

"Are our unwelcome guests gone?" I asked.

Ronson frowned again, nodding. "Beatrice saw they got a good meal before politely urging them on their way. It's nearly midday now. Niall is taking care of matters for me today."

Which meant there was nothing in the way of our spending the day together. It probably wouldn't take very much effort to distract Ronson from his question, keep him in bed with me…

And if he bites you in a moment of passion? I wondered.

"Come with me to the library," I said.

Ronson sat up with me, holding me close, even as he glowered. "This isn't news we can discuss in bed?"

"Perhaps, but I think you'd have questions. Better to show you everything I've found." It might take a trip up to the portraits too, come to think of it.

Ronson sighed and nodded, but he didn't release me as he left the bed, just carried me along with him as I laughed, arms tangled around his shoulders. "Very well. But we're not getting properly dressed. We've earned this day of rest, and I plan on ensuring we enjoy it."

"This could wait—" I started, unsure what would come of our conversation about the mating marks.

"Oh no, you don't," Ronson said, lips twitching, voice lowering. "You said I couldn't bite until after. Which means you've cause to think I can bite you. And Mairwen, my teeth ache every time I look at you. My jaw grinds to keep me from sinking my bite onto your lovely throat. I'm not sure how much longer I can avoid it."

I licked my lips, and Ronson set me on my toes by the wardrobe, pulling down the slip I'd draped over one door, helping me dress, his hands greedy to touch.

"Perhaps you should go and see a dentist," I murmured.

What if Ronson didn't want to bite me once he learned what it would mean, but he still physically craved the act? How long could he withstand the urge? How long could I keep myself from arching my throat and drawing his mouth to the spot, begging him to make me his?

Ronson groaned and dragged me to him. "You're perfuming, and I want to know why," he growled.

I shivered, his breath ghosting over the temporary marks he'd made, the ones he might make permanent.

"After," I breathed.

I held my breath, standing at the opposite side of the table in the library, the one I'd covered the surface of with open texts. Every mention of an alpha and their mated omega. The very few descriptions of mating ceremonies I could find, in the oldest and most fragile of texts. The small pamphlet from centuries ago referring to the savage and base act of "biting," apparently propaganda opposing the mating marks. I'd done my best before we'd left for the Flight of Alphas to collect everything I could find that might relate to mates or bites.

Ronson stared at a page in one of the oldest texts. "This mentions the strength of two dragons."

I nodded, but Ronson hadn't looked up from the table. His eyes kept bouncing from one book to another, brow furrowed and back straight.

"Yes, I noticed that too." I wondered about Alpha Falk and her wings, wondered how literal those words might really be. I'd nearly brought her portrait down the day Beatrice and I had found it, but I was glad now I'd left it in the attic. It would've been a disaster if Gamesby had come across it while here.

"The dates," Ronson murmured next, looking at the life records of the isle's alphas and omegas, their children.

"Yes. The mated couples had male heirs outside any rut cycle I could track."

What was he thinking? I was desperate to know. I wanted to crawl over the table, into his lap, and force his eyes to mine. I remained in place, trying not to fidget.

"What? Oh…oh yes, they do, don't they? But the omegas…they live…"

Suddenly, I couldn't bear to keep still, my body pacing back and forth with quick steps, matching the length of the broad table. "As near as I can tell, the bite changes something within the omega. Their lifespans match their mates. The estrus cycle changes too, I assume. I'm not sure if there's more ruts or more-more⁠—"

"Heats," Ronson finished, and I glanced over nervously, only to find him watching me. His eyes were dark, hot, hungry. I shivered and stumbled and then stood still at the corner of the table.

He'd put me into heat during the rut. He'd been resisting the urge to bite me. He'd nearly been in tears last night, begging me to tell him that I'd drunk the tea to prevent a pregnancy, that I'd chosen my life over my duty to him.

"And no mention of deaths during the delivery of a child," I breathed, trying to hold onto the facts, the information I'd found, and not fall into the tension between us that called me closer, closer, closer to my alpha.

"Mairwen—"

"It's irreversible. I don't know why…why…"

"Come here," Ronson purred.

"Why they would've put a stop to the marks, but the pamphlet originates in Skybern, so perhaps the answers are there. And even after the law forbidding bites, Alpha Brooks is still noted as having taken a…a…"

Ronson rumbled and I staggered back, swallowing.

"Mate," he said, and my belly clenched. It sounded less like he was finishing my sentence for me and more like he was calling to me. "Come here."

"Ronson," I protested, but it was useless—I was already rounding the edge of the table as Ronson pushed his seat back. He held his hand out when I paused, and I found myself sliding between him and the table, his hands cupping the backs of my thighs as he leaned in and stared up at me.

"You discovered all this on your own?" he asked.

"More or less by accident at first. I was only researching family lines. The further back I went, the more I found mentions of mates."

Ronson purred, and I sighed, my eyes falling shut as he drew me a little closer, pressing his lips through the silk of my robe and slip to kiss my stomach.

"What a clever omega I have," he said against me. My hands found their way into his hair, sighing in relief, anchored in calm simply by being able to touch him. "I thought I was going mad, losing my mind to my dragon's or worse."

I combed my fingers through the thick, dark strands, soothing us both. "It was only instinct," I said softly.

Ronson nodded, turning his head to rest his cheek against me, his fingers tightening on my thighs. "A very good instinct."

I blinked, and my breath hitched.

"I should've bitten you the first time I had the urge, Mairwen."

My eyes widened and I stared down at him, but he was hidden against me, his words soft and warm, rumbling with his purr.

"My omega," he rasped, turning his face back into my belly, nuzzling there, hunching lower. I gasped as his mouth opened, teeth biting dully against me. "My mate. Ohhh, yes. That word tastes almost as good as you do, Mairwen."

"Ronson." I tightened my fingers in his hair, trying to make him lean back to look at me, but he only moaned at the tug, and he was much stronger than me, lifting me off my toes and settling me down on the edge of the table, the silk of my slip sliding up so easily at his urging. "Ronson, it's-it's⁠—"

I whimpered as he burrowed his face between my thighs, purring against my sex, breathing roughly there.

"Permanent," he moaned, and he nodded, his nose just barely rubbing at my clit. "Yes, Mairwen. That's the best part."

A rough sob cracked out of my chest, my body crumpling, but Ronson was fast, standing up, arms circling my back and giving me a cradle to fall into. His face wasn't unreadable now. He was radiating warmth, pleasure, pride, just as he had last night.

"Shh, it's all right, omega." He drew me into his chest, tucked my head beneath his chin, and heave in air as I clawed and groped at his back. "I know. I know what they made you believe, what they let you think of yourself. But it isn't true. Not a bit of it. You are everything an alpha could want. I just happen to be the extremely lucky fool who had the chance to claim you."

I wasn't crying, not with tears, but I couldn't catch my breath, couldn't contain the voices in my head that contradicted every word Ronson spoke. I whined and tried to climb into Ronson as if he were shelter I might take. He lifted me from the table and sat back in his chair with me nestled against his chest.

"I want my mark on you. I want a life with you—my whole life, not part of it. I want you to have my strength, and I desperately need yours, Mairwen. I don't want an heir. I want a child. Your child. Ours. When and if you're ready." He stiffened and then tipped me backwards, frowning. "The tea? Will it still work?"

He was asking me a perfectly reasonable question, while I was busy falling apart because I was so relieved, so happy, so honored by him that for a moment, I could only squeak and stare up at him, hiccuping for breath.

"I love you," I gasped out.

Ronson's face went slack, and I was too stunned to even doubt the words, to doubt that he might want to hear them.

I reached up and grasped his face in my hands. "Ronson, I love you."

Sound roared from his chest, a shocking thunder of a purr. The room swung around me, then my back was pressed awkwardly over a mismatched collection of open books—books far too old for this treatment—and the weight of my alpha was making the table groan, his mouth tenderly and sweetly and reverently pressed to mine.

"I forgot," he rasped, nodding and then kissing me again. "I forgot to say that last night, didn't I?"

I could fly, after all. That was the only explanation for the soaring sensation racing through me.

"Forgot what, alpha?"

Ronson groaned, nose digging into my cheek, chest heaving against mine as he gulped for air. "I love you. I love you. I love you, Mairwen."

And for some reason, I didn't doubt for a moment that he meant it.

"Nest, alpha," I murmured against his ear.

"Nest, mate," he corrected.

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