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Chapter SeventeenRONSON
Iflew in my dragon form, Mairwen seated carefully between my shoulder blades, her arms wrapped around the back of my neck, hands holding to spikes to keep her seat. It was easier to think straight like this, to not tackle her down into the grass and rut her in front of the entire isle. I puffed a breath laced with fire, and the grip of Mairwen's thighs tightened.
Publicly claiming Mairwen was a tempting thought. An effective curse to the betas who plotted against me.
See me with my omega. See me breed her and create another future alpha to keep you in your place.
Except there was one tiny, decidedly human thought pricking the bubble of lust. What happened if Mairwen did become pregnant with my heir?
My dragon heir. The likely future alpha.
Mairwen might die. Mairwen.
My father had lost five omegas to early and still-births before my mother had survived my own. Those were especially bad odds for dragonkin—usually it was a little less than half of births that failed—but my father had said his own birth was one in seven. He'd acted as though it was a point of pride. I'd accepted it as the danger of how strong we were, larger and more powerful than the other family lines on the island.
But now that danger was on Mairwen's shoulders.
The crass mutterings I'd heard about women and their bodies battled against my own feelings for the curious omega. She had good hips for breeding. She was larger than a lot of the omegas. She might withstand the birth. But what did that make her odds of survival against my family line? Even if she was more likely to survive, there was still risk. Risk against her life, a risk I might lose this omega I'd only just found.
Her perfume was the secret I'd drawn out, savored and craved in equal measure. Her wide eyes and flushed cheeks as she raced across the field to me to whisper the betas' plot in my ear, so unabashedly loyal when the rest of dragonkin schemed and watched me from afar. The still, quiet peace of her body curled against mine in the morning. Could I risk losing all of her for the chance of an heir?
If Mairwen grew pregnant during the rut, there was a sickening, painful possibility she might be gone before the end of the year. Gone for good.
And it would be my fault.
My wings drummed through the air in protest, and Mairwen's breath caught, barely audible on the wind, as the island edge cut away behind us, leaving only the restless sea below.
"I love flying!" she called out from behind me.
I'd been careful to hold steady and straight, to follow some of the turns of the air so I wouldn't jostle her, but at the sound of her voice, bright and delighted, I leaned forward and tipped cautiously to the side. Mairwen laughed and clung tighter, and I glanced behind me to see her hair whipping back in the wind, braid loose and wild. Maybe I would just keep flying, keep her safe on my back, close to me but not in danger.
We passed the castle and soared higher. Mairwen's thighs squeezed against the hard, scaled nape of my neck, and even through the dense hide of my dragon, her warmth soaked into me.
I couldn't resist the rut. I'd barely managed to leave the bed this morning, and it hadn't even started yet. I might seek another bed partner, but the thought of going back to the nest without Mairwen, of bringing someone else into it to spend the rut with me, made me feel sick and disgusted with myself. I wanted her. I wanted her scent and her sounds and her touches. I wanted her slick heat and her curiosity and her shy smiles.
I wasn't even entirely sure I could withstand not spending the rut with her, now that I craved the possibility. I'd never been sincerely interested in a woman before, let alone an omega, never been so obsessed with the proximity of any person.
I didn't want to lose Mairwen, and I didn't know how to keep her safe. Not when the threat to her safety was me. I'd be lust-addled and ferocious during the rut, mindlessly driven by the breeding instincts. There was no avoiding spilling myself inside of her. It would be like telling myself not to breathe.
Even thinking too much about the rut was creating a problem. If Mairwen weren't on my back, I would've dove into the sea.
Perhaps…
Perhaps I could leave for the rut, leave the isle. Lock myself away somewhere?
Perhaps Torion might have a dungeon in Grave Hills strong enough to hold me?
I puffed fire and turned for the castle. If I could just manage to keep away from Mairwen long enough to speak to Niall…
He would remind me that I'd been determined to choose an omega this year precisely for the reason I was now so reluctant: to conceive an heir. To hold my family line. To hold my own power.
I released a growl and made a sudden sharp turn for the castle, Mairwen squawking in surprise and holding tightly to me. She laughed, and my heart burned with restrained fire, wings and body arrowing toward my bedroom balcony.
I transformed midair, landing on the stone and catching Mairwen in my arms, hauling her against my chest before I could think of what I was doing, my mouth slanting over hers. I needed her close, needed her safe, needed her in the nest—
Under me.
Surrounding me.
Clutching me closer as she—
Mairwen gasped as I yanked myself away, holding her back by her shoulders, staring at her and guzzling in her scent by the lungful. Her cheeks were red and marked with soot, hair tangled from the wind and frizzy and wild from the fire. She was a mess, dressed in my clothing, eyes red and lips chapped. The impulse to soothe her marked skin was so strong, my mouth watered and my body shook.
"I need—" I rasped.
Mairwen smiled, holding out a hand to me. "Yes, I know."
Fuck. Fucking Belfry's ballocks. Because she was right, of course. I did need to take her hand, follow her into the nest, lose days in her taste and her skin and her welcoming body.
I shook my head, swallowing hard around the painful burn and ache in my jaw and throat. "No, I need to-to speak to—" Who? Niall wasn't here! "Beatrice," I blurted out, because there was no one else who made any sense.
Not that seeing my elderly sister before my rut made any sense, either—a fact Mairwen seemed to realize by the blank stare she answered me with.
"Oh. Of…of course." She stepped back, and I was an impulsive, indecisive idiot, because I lurched forward, catching her wrist, drawing it up to my mouth and nose to suck in a quick, smoke-sullied scent of her.
"Wait in the nest," I bit out. Although I don't know if I can stand to come to you.
I don't know if I can stand to stay away, either.
Mairwen's lips pursed and her brow furrowed. It seemed as though she might snap at me, demand I answer for my strange behavior, show some of that perfectly determined spine she'd had this morning. If she did, I wouldn't be able to resist tackling her into the nest and kissing every stubborn, strong word from her lips.
A shadow passed over her face, and she turned away, shoulders dropping with a heavy sigh. "Very well. I'll be here."
My fingers tightened around her wrist for a moment, but I forced myself to release her, to step back toward the balcony.
"Stay inside," I called to her retreating back.
She waved a dismissive hand, and I bit my tongue to keep from calling her name, then nearly swallowed it at the sight of her hips swaying, lovingly sheathed in my trousers. With a garbled choke, I spun and leapt to the edge of the balcony, wings spreading to catch the air, flying around the corner of the castle toward my office. I would wait there for Niall to return, even if I had to tie myself to my desk to keep from crawling back to the nest. Which, given the tightness growing between my shoulder blades, was growing increasingly likely.
"Not that I object to the impromptu percussion taking place above my rooms, but aren't you meant to be…elsewhere?"
My feet froze, and I swayed in place, staring at my sister, who stared back with the particular pinched and ca
"Cook is sending provisions up to the nest," Beatrice continued. "The omega—"
"Mairwen."
"—is waiting there, from what I understand."
I choked on the growl rising up my throat, grunted, and braced a clawed hand against my desk and the rough punch of desire from my dragon. My face was hot and flushed, and I turned my chair away from Beatrice's clear stare.
"Ah. I was concerned you were avoiding her from disinclination," Beatrice said.
"I don't want to discuss this," I bit out between clenched teeth.
"If you attempt to hold your dragon at bay, you will set upon that young woman like a beast when he breaks free," Beatrice said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her.
Beatrice had always been too brave, too outspoken, too direct. After my mother had died, I'd looked up to her as some cross between parent and knight protector. She'd withstood the tempers of my father like a stone pillar in a raging storm, letting it wash around and off her without blinking.
"Is she afraid of you?" Beatrice asked.
My shoulders tightened, and I shook my head. "Beatrice—"
"I can speak with her—"
"Mairwen is not the problem!"
The chair I'd been seated on rocked and thundered against the floorboards, threatening to tip over, and splinters dug into my fingertips where my claws pierced the surface of my desk. Beatrice arched an eyebrow, cool as ever as I huffed and puffed and leaned over the desk, groaning at myself.
"I'm…concerned."
"Concerned?" Beatrice echoed.
"For Mairwen."
Beatrice snorted. "Omegas have suffered the attentions of dragons for centuries, Ronson. She's a hearty enough creature. I'm sure she'll—"
"Survive childbirth?" I asked, falling back into my seat, blinking up at my sister. "The heir of the alpha? The Cadogan heir?"
I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen my older sister surprised. Beatrice swayed forward and braced her hand on the back of a chair before helping herself to the seat.
"Oh, Ronson," she sighed out. "The danger only just occurred to you?"
I scoffed. "Of course not. I've understood, even regretted, what we dragons ask of our women. But it's different when…"
"When you really like the woman?" Beatrice asked.
I sighed, sinking back against the spine of the chair, letting my wings droop and raising my hands to scrub over my face. "Mairwen overheard the betas. They've been trying to keep me too busy and stressed to go into rut."
Beatrice snorted. "Men. They make up the most absurd plots. As if they could prevent your rut."
My lips twitched. "It forced the consequences of the rut into my mind. I've been focusing on…" I wrinkled my nose and shook my head rather than admit my thought out loud to Beatrice. I've been focused on the pleasure of fucking Mairwen.
"You chose an omega specifically to gain an heir."