Текст книги "The Alpha of Bleake Isle"

Автор книги: Kathryn Moon

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Chapter Thirty-FourRONSON

Mate, I marveled, laying Mairwen back inside of our nest, crawling in over her.

Mate, my dragon thundered in approval. Mine.

It had been a fact I hadn't known the word for, and now that I did, the truth rested perfectly in place, a brilliant jewel in a precise setting. Mairwen was my mate. My clever, beautiful, desperately sweet mate.

And she loves me. My breath caught in my chest, and I gazed down at Mairwen, at the soft glitter in her honey eyes as she stared back, the way she eyes traced over my features in equal wonder. Her fingers smoothed around my jaw, and then brushed the backs of her knuckles against my cheek. I turned my head and kissed there, nipping at her knuckles and earning a soft giggle.

My hand on her waist slid to the tie of her robe, but for once, I wasn't impatient. I wanted to unwrap my mate slowly, savor every bit of her. Mairwen wiggled beneath me and the robe parted, sliding over her smooth skin and off her shoulders, revealing more of the bruises on her left side that I'd been both proud and ashamed of. Now that I knew why they were there, why I'd been so obsessed with marking her, biting her, I admired the restraint of not actually breaking her skin.

Yet.

I leaned down, smiling as Mairwen released a soft, eager sound and arched in offering, lifting her bruised skin to my lips. I kissed softly over the patterns I'd made, faded watercolor circles of pink and purple and yellow.

"Do you want my mark, Mairwen?" I murmured, unable to resist the urge to suck softly over my most recent work. Mairwen gasped, hands tearing at the snaps of my shoulders, wrestling away my own clothing to rub her silk-clad skin to mine.

"Yes, alpha."

"It's permanent," I reminded her, settling myself on top of her, knowing well enough by now that she liked my weight. And sure enough, Mairwen moaned and sighed, sagging into the soft bedding of our nest. She blinked drowsily up at me as I shifted. "You thought that might be a concern for me. And so it might be for you," I said, catching her hair behind her neck, freeing it gently and draping it back over a pillow so it wouldn't tangle beneath us.

"I want to be yours. Your mate," she said, blushing but not looking away from me.

I purred, my eyes falling shut, enjoying the moment of Mairwen's lush form beneath mine, her full thighs cradling my hips, her hands ghosting over my back, her perfume full and rich, layers of the satisfaction I'd given her coating our nest. I'd never imagined such a sense of rightness with any omega I might choose, not this completion and ease, this imperative understanding that I could love Mairwen and no other.

"How long have you known about the bite?" I asked.

"Since the day before we left for the Flight of Alphas," she said.

I nodded. There hadn't been time before now to tell me, and there hadn't been much chance of me going so far as to bite her while we were traveling. She'd thought to warn me last night.

"I'd found mentions of mates, but nothing that connected to you wanting to…" She blushed again and squirmed.

I grinned down, moving just enough to coax the slip up over her hips. "Bite you," I prompted, glancing at those marks on her throat.

She nodded. "But then Beatrice and I found old portraits—Oh, I meant to show you!"

"Later, Mairwen," I rasped, too eager now that her warm skin was wrapping around me.

She laughed and lifted her hips, her chest, arms sliding back to allow me to strip her bare beneath me. I swallowed hard, forever dazzled by the vision of Mairwen beneath me, so much exquisiteness on offer.

"I thought at first that maybe this was just an urge between any alpha and omega," she said softly.

I shook my head, frowning. "Not possible. No man could resist wanting a woman as much as I want you," I said.

Mairwen gasped, and her eyes glittered with tears. "Ronson, you are so⁠—"

"Devastatingly in love with you," I finished for her, ducking down to kiss the swell of one breast, then the other. "Yes, I know."

My father was certainly not a man of restraint. If he'd wanted to bite an omega, he would've. And this craving hadn't been there from the start with Mairwen, although I thought perhaps the start might've been sooner than the rut. The night I'd found her in the nest, surrounded by books, shockingly sweet and lovely.

"Wonderful," Mairwen sighed out as I trailed a damp line of licks and kisses down between her breasts to her belly. "Ronson, I need you."

As much as it thrilled the dragon in me to hear her call me alpha, it made me ache in an altogether more tender way when she used my name. We were alpha and omega, and the bite was an instinct I'd barely managed to resist up till now, but this was more than a base urge, more than my dragon's desire. I loved this woman, her appetite for knowledge and for story, the core of her that had persevered with humor and curiosity, in spite of being so constantly discouraged by those around her. I'd spent my many decades as alpha attempting to be fair, catering to men I didn't respect. But if I was going to be worthy of Mairwen, I need to be as good as her, as strong for all of the island as she seemed to think me capable.

I rose up only long enough to work my way out of the loose trousers I'd donned for our trip to the library, falling back into Mairwen before she could follow and chase my touch.

"Bite," she pleaded, arching her throat until the muscles were taut, offering me that divine stretch of skin I'd claimed.

No, I'd claimed all of her. I'd claimed her on the stage, in full view of dragonkin and the human locals. I'd claimed her on the floor of the library with my lips and hands, in our nest during my rut, in front of the other alphas at the Flight. Even in front of her parents.

The bite was not my claim. It was my means of survival. Because if I lost Mairwen, in childbirth or simply in her too-short lifespan, I was sure my dragon would wither and so would I.

I wrapped Mairwen's legs around me, stilled her eager wiggles and squirms by finding my way to her opening, just barely poised to enter, and then took her face in my hand.

"I love you, Mairwen," I said again, because the words were a relief and a joy.

She softened, sparkled up at me like the treasure she was. "I love you, Ronson."

I swallowed hard and then flexed my hips forward, watching her pupils grow, her lips part on a pant. "I love you, mate," I corrected, grinning.

Mairwen's voice cracked sweetly, a pleading note, and her hips tilted into mine, pink tongue flicking out to wet her bottom lip. "Mate," she rasped, begging.

I groaned, and my eyes fell shut, thoughts sinking helplessly into Mairwen's heat and warmth and wonderfully soaked core, narrowing down to the simple and primitive ache and complete solace of being inside the only woman I'd ever really wanted.

Mairwen met me stroke for stroke, her hunger a match for an alpha's, a match for mine. I licked the skin of her throat, syrupy perfume filling my lungs, coating my tongue. My hands were full, one massaging her breast, the other cupping her ass to hold her close. I wanted to lick her arousal from the source, wanted to put her on her hands and knees and grip the back of her neck, and pound into her to make her scream, wanted to be everywhere on Mairwen all at once.

But I opened my eyes and found her face, her beautiful stare and lips begging to be kissed, and wanted nothing more than this—our chests pressed, arms wrapped tight, to be as near to her as I could until our heartbeats hammered together and our rocking thrusts dawdled, savoring every slide of slick flesh.

I smiled as Mairwen's gaze went unfocused, her eyelashes fluttering and a slow, deep moan rising from her lips. Oh, yes, she liked this. My lovely, greedy omega liked when I was patient and thorough, when I filled her as completely as I could, rubbing my knot against her clit. Her hands squeezed low on my back, a high sigh released as her eyes squeezed shut when I pushed inside of her, a tremulous whimper as I pulled nearly out.

"Ronson, yes, please," she breathed, turning and arching for a kiss.

I licked into her mouth, gave her my groan as her wet sex squeezed my length, pressed a little harder against her, debated knotting her, biting her, making her mine forever right at that second. But she made such magnificent, tormented, pleading sounds as I eased back, and I could be patient, could make her unravel for me and then take her there again faster with my knot, drive us both to the brink of oblivion. And this time, I would let it take me.

I rolled Mairwen's nipple between my fingers, bit gently at her bottom lip as she cried out, hiked one leg up higher to her side. Not long now. I knew her so well, knew what pleased her, what drove her past reason. I knew she grew shy when I kissed her belly but also so wonderfully wet. Knew she shuddered and fluttered around my cock when I gripped her tightly, almost to bruising. She loved my possession as much as she bloomed for gentle brushes and kisses.

If I rose up on my knees, I could find the angle that would make her shout and twist and tremble on the bed, losing control completely, but it would leave her limp and embarrassed after, so I stayed close, grinding myself against her until she lost the ability to speak, to breathe, her nails digging into my ass. I released her breast and caught her chin.

"Look at me, my lovely siren," I hissed. "I want to watch you as you come for me."

Her eyes fell shut, but she opened them once more for me, and now I knew that the sounds she made as she fell apart, as she clutched and soaked my cock with a body that fit me perfectly, were a good match for the hauntingly beautiful way she sang.

I couldn't help myself. I gave her my knot without waiting, watched her eyes widen in shock and fresh ecstasy as it drove her back up to the height of her release before she'd finished falling. I allowed myself one long study of her as she whimpered and sighed and clamped down on my knot, her cheeks and throat and chest flushed, her hair tangling behind her head, her lips bitten rosy, and then I surrendered.

My mate. My omega. My love. Mairwen.

I groaned and bucked, drawing out the flutters and quakes of her tight core on my knot, the pulsing squeeze slowly shredding the thin thread of control I'd gripped so tightly. My wings beat at my back in a chorused agreement of movement and urgency. Mairwen chanted praise, my name woven with the words love and mate and yes.

My mouth watered and my teeth ached, and her pulse throbbed on my tongue, calling to me in steady waves of perfume—a plea or an invitation or both, I didn't know. I didn't care.

Mairwen was mine, and this would make her even more so. I purred and found her skin against my tongue, the muscles of her throat flexing with babbling words of encouragement. So gentle. So sweet. So tender as it gave beneath my hungry teeth. Her arms clutched and she froze beneath me, the first squeak of discomfort like a distant alarm in my foggy head. Then copper and honey syrup laced the inside of my mouth, and Mairwen melted, moaned. I bellowed as tension snapped, heat and lightning racing through me, velvet softness and electric crackling. I snarled into the throat of my mate and collapsed into the cradle of her body at last.

Two crescents of little rubies fitted in slightly pink and swollen flesh. Mairwen's bruises had faded in the wake, but the mark of my bite was still fresh, blood occasionally welling as she stretched or turned her head, drawing my gazeback, as well as my lips and my tongue to soothe the spot.

"Does it hurt?" I rasped, ringing my tongue around the marks.

"Not when you do that," Mairwen murmured. I frowned and lifted my head, and she offered a smile. "It's a little sore, that's all. The books about the mating ceremony say it doesn't last long. And you're doing exactly what you ought to to help it heal."

I stiffened and then groaned, dropping my head down to Mairwen's bare chest. "Damn. I forgot you mentioned a ceremony. I should've⁠—"

"Should've taken me out to the village square, stripped me bare, anointed me in oils, and then mounted me from behind as the isle feasted and watched you bite me?" Mairwen asked. I growled, and she laughed. "I prefer our rather more private method. The ceremonies fell out of fashion before mating did."

I sighed and started to settle back against my mate—she'd been stroking her hands through my hair like she might to a house cat, and I was not ashamed to admit I loved every second—when she sat up suddenly, nearly knocking our heads together.

"Oh, Ronson! Mating is illegal. We've done something illegal," she gasped, hands flying up over her mouth.

I grinned and rolled onto my wings. "Ahhh, I see I'm not the only one who was forgetting something important. That one I did remember."

She slapped me gently on the chest. "Why didn't you say⁠—"

"I'm the alpha, Mairwen. I hereby declare mating legal again," I said, sweeping my arm out in a grand gesture. "There, all settled. No one even knew that law existed anyway."

Mairwen's eyes narrowed, and she snorted. "I'm sure Niall won't have anything to say once we tell him." I blinked at that, and her lips twitched. "Ah-ha! You didn't think it through, did you? Bet you thought you could just keep it all a secret, as if no one would notice I wasn't aging—Ronson!" she squawked as I tackled her back into the pillows, wrestling my arms around her and glaring down at her flushed and magnificent face.

"Keep it a secret, mate?" I growled. Mairwen's lips pressed together as she realized what she'd said. "Keep you a secret? Not tell the island, the entire world how proud I am to be yours? To have you at my side for my life? To have my mark on you so they all know what you are to me, what you mean to me? Not likely, Mairwen."

She'd mellowed as I spoke, and she reached between us now, fingers traveling gently back into my hair. "Of course," she said, leaning up and kissing my jaw. "Of course not. Silly of me."

I purred and then curled up on top of my omega like the oversized feline she apparently knew I was, resting my cheek on her chest, sighing as we settled together once more.

"We do have to tell Niall, though. And it won't be so simple as just announcing to the island that I'm something most of them have never even heard of," Mairwen said. "If we're lucky—if we're going to get away with it—none of them will have heard of mating."

I sighed and nodded, but I refused to open my eyes. "Tomorrow," I bargained. "We'll tell Niall and Beatrice tomorrow." Let me have you today, mate, I begged privately.

Mairwen was quiet, the path of her fingers slow and steady, soothing me towards a nap. I felt calmer now. And while I was still quite tempted to cup and squeeze and roll Mairwen's breast that sat just out of the corner of my eye, to draw it to my mouth and make a feast, there was less of the sense of lust riding and possessing me and my actions now. Mairwen was mine and I loved and craved every inch of her, but I loved this too—holding her, resting with her, having her scent and her touch around me in a moment of calm contentment.

"Tomorrow," she murmured as I pet a hand over her hip.

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Chapter Thirty-FiveMAIRWEN

Iheld my breath, my hands clasped firmly in Ronson's where they rested on his lap. We sat side by side at Ronson's desk as Niall and Beatrice gaped at us across the table. Actually, Beatrice didn't look even half as surprised as Niall. She'd been there with me when I discovered the connection between the bite marks and the mention of mates. She'd seen the way Ronson had been soothing an impulse we didn't understand by gnawing on me anytime we were alone.

Niall, on the other hand, had not seen this coming.

He'd been studying Ronson through the whole conversation, aside from one quick confirming glance at the healing marks on my throat, his face slowly paling, eyes widening then narrowing, lips flattening. He stared at Ronson now in silence, and the only thing I could read on his face was shock.

Then he shook his head and looked at me. "I trusted you," he said.

I startled in my seat, looking at Ronson who scowled at his brother. "Niall," Ronson growled.

Niall held up a hand, head shaking, but he didn't look away from me. "Him? No. From him, this…this…this thing I'd never even imagined makes a kind of sense. But Mairwen, you? You were my sensible one."

"Niall!" Ronson repeated his warning as I garbled out the start of an apology and then swallowed it down.

I wasn't sorry I'd mated Ronson. I wasn't even sorry we hadn't discussed it with Niall first because that moment was ours. Mine and Ronson's.

He loves me, a cheerful voice reminded me for the hundredth time since he'd said the words. I glanced up at Ronson at my side and found myself smiling. I caught his eye, and he relaxed back into his seat, answering me with the same as he squeezed my hand.

I turned back to Niall. "What makes you think our mating isn't sensible?" I asked instead.

Ronson huffed out a laugh, and Niall glared at him, but I thought the corner of his lips were twitching. "Persuade me to your case," Niall said.

"W-what?" I asked, rearing back.

"Mairwen is—" Ronson started, more prepared than I for Niall's prompting, but Niall cut him off with a raised hand. A shame, because I would've liked to hear Ronson's argument.

"Tell me what makes the bonding sensible," Niall said to me.

Ronson's chest swelled, his scent growing rough, and I thought he might start an argument with Niall he would later regret, so I spoke.

"There's several mentions of mating bonds creating the strength of two dragons, just as an heir would."

"In texts society has no access to," Niall pointed out.

"It would be easy enough to take them to a printer," I answered, sitting up. "There's more research to be done, of course. We still don't have a clear picture of why it vanished in history."

"You're talking about something that's going to take a great deal of time, and the pair of you already are mated."

"Yes, we are," I said, bucking my chin up. "And I also have the texts that talk about what it takes to resist a mating urge. A dragon is barely capable of focusing on anything but his mate until the bond is satisfied."

"I can attest to this," Ronson said, smirking at Niall, who rolled his eyes.

"As if this is going to stop you from chasing her skirts," Niall muttered.

Ronson grinned and shrugged. "Not likely."

I nudged my elbow into his side. "It should help, actually."

"We'll see," Ronson said, goading his brother.

I huffed and continued, "Bonding increases the chances of a male heir outside of rut, and it offers an omega the physical strength to manage the birth. There's no record of a mated omega dying in childbirth anywhere in our histories."

Niall looked between us, losing his sardonic expression. "Is that… Are you…?"

"No," I admitted, blushing.

Ronson released my hands only to drape an arm over my shoulder. "We're in no rush now. And I wouldn't have wanted to risk Mairwen's safety. But we would like to have children when we're ready."

I would keep drinking the tea, since as far as we knew, it prevented conception regardless of any bonding. If we were going to remove the sanction against bonding, I wondered if we might make the contraceptive legal again too. That was likely a step too far, at least for the betas of dragonkin. But it was better not to consider those men at all in this case. Ronson and Niall didn't respect most of them. I didn't. Ronson had given Francesca a choice, given me one. Perhaps together, we could give all the omegas of the isle their choice as well.

"I know that the island doesn't have confidence in me," I said, pressing my hand to Ronson's knee before he could interrupt me. "I didn't try to change their minds before, and I started to believe that some of what they said was right. But I know better now. And as impressed as I am with what you both have accomplished since Ronson became alpha, it isn't enough. Not for omegas."

Niall's head tipped, but he didn't argue with me, just raised an eyebrow and waited.

"An omega was considered equal to her mate, and I would like that to be the case again. The omegas of Bleake Isle might consider me an unlikely ally, but I hope to be able to speak up for them. I hope you'll listen," I added, turning to Ronson.

"You know I will," he murmured, lifting my hand from his lap to his lips, whispering the word siren against my skin as he kissed there.

I sighed and nodded, looking back to Niall. "Someone will find that bonding was outlawed, you're right. There will be controversy. Just as there is controversy now for almost anything Ronson does. But he will have me at his side for it, and I believe we can weather the storm."

Niall was quiet for a moment, and then he said something entirely unexpected. "The bond makes you stronger."

My brow furrowed. "Me? I haven't read⁠—"

"She was always strong," Ronson said, smiling. "The bond assures her she's not alone. Her strength is backed by mine, and mine by hers."

"The strength of two dragons," Beatrice said softly, eyeing me.

"The truth is, brother, I don't want to rule as alpha if I don't have my mate at my side," Ronson said, his hand squeezing gently around my shoulder. "And I'm no longer sure that compromises are worth making."

Niall wilted into the chair he sat in, his head falling back to blink up at the ceiling. "It's not a very good case, Mairwen."

Ronson rumbled a snarl, but it stuttered and choked away as I leaned into his side, smiling at Niall's weary tone.

"Then you'll have to help us make a more convincing one," I said.

Niall nodded. "Yes, I suppose I shall. Can you bear to have her mark covered for a little while?" he asked Ronson.

Ronson frowned but nodded. "I suppose."

"Good. I have reading to do. Take Mairwen with you today to the Lords' Council," Niall said. My eyes widened, but before I could protest, Niall narrowed his eyes at mine. "Remember what you just said to me when they talk down to you, Mairwen. You are Ronson's equal⁠—"

"Better," Ronson said.

"—and they owe you as much respect."

I sucked in a breath. Silly me, to make such a speech thinking I might apply my leadership to some indefinite future. No, Niall must throw me in straight away.

"There are the omegas to consider too. A fair few of the island have influence, although they wield it more subtly than the betas," Beatrice said, scooting forward. "We should arrange a meeting amongst them. A tea, perhaps, for the sake of appearances."

I wondered if my nerves showed on my face as I turned to Ronson, who did his best to hide his humor, although it glittered brightly in his gaze.

"It is time for the island to properly meet my omega," Ronson purred.

My clammy hand lifted from my lap, reaching for my chest, where fire seemed to burn inside, anxiety a hot tempest in my heart. I forced my fingers to the teacup waiting in its saucer instead, listening to the cheerful murmurs of the women around the table, waiting for my opportunity to speak.

The Lords' Council had been bad enough. Once the men had gotten over their utter shock at my arrival and their near refusal to discuss anything of importance in front of me, they'd carried on their business as if I weren't there at all. Or at least they'd tried. But I knew more of their business than they'd expected, and when they wouldn't listen to me, they were forced to acknowledge Ronson. By the end of the afternoon, I'd received a scant few respectful words from two of the lords in attendance and I was in a rare hot temper. Which Ronson had promptly fucked out of me in our nest before dinner.

But Ronson wasn't here with me now for this tea. Even Beatrice, who had helped me plan everything from topics to tarts, had left me on my own.

And the truth was I was more intimidated by these omegas than by their beta counterparts. These women had helped shape my identity as 'Mouse.' Not as directly as Adelaide and her rotten nickname, but in smaller and equally cutting ways.

Lady Hudson had once suggested to my mother and myself that if I was to have a new dress for her ball, it might be best if it matched the colors of her walls to better allow me to blend in for the night. When Mrs. Finch had caught my mother bemoaning my increasing inches at the dressmaker's when I was fourteen, she'd recommended that if a reducing diet was not working, I might consider fasting when not at a public event. I'd once overheard Lady Keegesby tell her daughter to be sure to stand near me so as to appear slim by comparison.

These matrons had belittled me as easily as breathing. They were not meant to be insults but friendly advice. I hadn't existed to them, not as a girl with feelings, and that was somehow worse.

I swallowed down the heat of bile in my throat and straightened in my chair. If Ronson had known any of that, he'd be at my side. Just the thought made me more aware of the healed bite hiding beneath my gauzy fichu, and I found myself smiling, catching the eye of Lady Keegesby as she leaned forward to inspect the spread of food I'd ordered for this "informal meeting of friends."

"Lady Keegesby, I'm very glad you could attend. I wish you would share my heartfelt congratulations with Jane on the birth of her latest daughter," I said.

"Thank you, M—Omega Cadogan," the older woman said, blinking back at me.

"It is a pity, though, that she should've gotten with child so soon before the rut," Lady Hudson cut in, glancing between us. "Another daughter for Mr. Sampson, and another cycle without an heir."

Lady Keegesby flushed and pursed her lips to bite off a retort. I resisted the restless stir in my chest that wanted to tell these women that they were all speaking to one another and playing these games by the rules of horrible men who discarded and wasted their lives so carelessly. Instead, I took a breath and smiled at Lady Hudson.

"Ahh, but Mr. Sampson eagerly dotes on those daughters. And besides, we omegas are still outnumbered. Another daughter might do our island good," I said.

The easy conversation between the other women had settled as I'd spoken up, and now they were all ears, eyes keen and eager. They wanted to watch verbal cuts and jabs. Perhaps some of them even wanted to see me win against Lady Hudson, who had a rapier for a tongue. But I didn't want a tea of catty conversation and delicately-phrased arguments. I wanted to unite these women. I had to tread carefully and not let this new and eager temper of mine have its way.

"And so she might, if any of the betas had the sense to listen to women," a sharp voice croaked out. It was Agnes Hubbard, an elderly omega who'd survived not one, but two beta partners—the second had claimed her supposedly for the double fortune she'd amassed before the age of thirty-five—and whose only sharp words to me growing up had been, "Well, speak up, if you're going to speak at all."

A woman trilled with a nervous laugh. "Oh, quite! My John never does attend a word I say."

"The betas may not all be our ally, but Alpha Cadogan would be," I said, lifting my teacup once more to my lips, letting my softly spoken words rest in the stirring sounds of muslin and lace shifting in seats.

"And what good does it do the isle to let a barely grown omega go tearing off on a ship to seek a silly fortune elsewhere, eh, girl?" Agnes grouched, snatching one of the tarts from the tray. She sniffed it, but at least that she gave an approving glance.

I laughed, thinking of Francesca. "I see your point. But what harm does it do?"

The women in the room blustered and shot wary looks at one another.

"He gave me the chance to leave too, and I stayed," I said, shrugging. "Not all of us want to run. It's not so dire, I think. Still, you must admit there's room for improvement."

"This is…is…heresy. Or-or treason," Mrs. Finch hissed to the woman at her side.

Agnes Hubbard snorted and rolled her eyes, plumping herself more comfortably into the cozy chair she'd claimed upon entering. "Of course it isn't either, you goose. You're sitting in front of the alpha's omega. If she's here, it's not to start a coup against her alpha."

"I like him rather a lot, actually, so no," I said brightly, finding my footing, if only by knocking all the other women out of of their usual stride. And hearing that I liked Ronson? Well, that threw a lot of women back into their chairs in a stunned silence.

Not Agnes, though. She huffed, but it was a sound of humor. She was tall, like me, healthy and full-bodied too. She'd birthed two sons—one to her second beta, quite late in life by dragonkin standards—and while her family and her sons' families had no grand titles and no marriages to high-born lines, Agnes Hubbard herself owned a number of successful businesses in part or whole on the island. She had deep pockets, and deep pockets always held influence, even if women like Lady Hudson would've rather not acknowledged as much.

One omega, Lady Evelyn Grant, cleared her throat to catch my eye. "If you really do have your alpha's ear, then perhaps you can persuade him to my Reginald's⁠—"

"I'm not here for your betas," I said firmly, cutting her off and refusing to shy from her shocked gasp. "I am here for you. For your daughters. For their daughters."

And still, the room was quiet, the women eyeing one another, waiting for someone else to speak. I wanted to rise from my seat and shake them all. These matrons had survived, it was true, but it was equally unlikely they had not lost someone too. A sister or a daughter. As omegas, our deaths were almost commonplace when it came time to bear children. Being chosen in the ceremony was like tossing a coin to see if you were going to the gallows.

We all knew what was wrong on the isle, with dragonkin. Why wouldn't anyone say it out loud?

"My granddaughter is expecting," Lady Hudson said, smoothing her skirts and turning her cup in its saucer. "From the rut. Already she is bedridden. Lord Quincy has informed the doctor to cut the babe from her if there is any chance of her not being able to deliver."