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I ran toward him, accidentally knocking a pretty omega who was scarcely older than me out of the way—one of the omegas he hadn't chosen a decade ago. Ronson's snarling purr thundered in the field, and his knees bent as I leapt, his arms snapping around my waist, one hand clapping possessively over my bottom.
I wrapped my own arms around his shoulders, bowing my head to whisper in his ear. "The betas started the fire themselves. They're trying to keep you from your rut so you can't gain an heir before they have a new plan in place."
Ronson stiffened, although his chest was rumbling with a purr, and his hands absently squeezed my body as if reacquainting themselves with my shape. Perfect, as he'd called it.
Whatever the betas thought of me, of Ronson's choice, I'd believed that word as it was rasped into my skin. I believed the awe and hunger in Ronson's gaze as he'd watched me meet my pleasure with wide eyes.
I leaned back, my face hot, too many stares pointed in our direction. Ronson's eyes were black with hunger, just a hint of deep brown surrounding his wide pupils. I stroked his cheek and left a sooty mark.
"Take me back to the castle, alpha."