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I blinked at her, baffled that Ronson's sharp words at di
"Worry?" I repeated.
Her eyes were watery, but they often were and the tears rarely spilled over. The implication of her sentiment was enough for my mother. "It's a terrible burden for a girl like you, Mouse, to be the alpha's omega. Everyone will be waiting for you to produce another alpha. And oh, my darling girl," she gasped out, leaning forward and clasping my hands in her feverish grip. Her voice trembled, and this time a tear, a beautiful one, did trickle down her cheek. "They are such terrible births. My mother lost a sister to the last alpha, you know. And so many other families lost girls too."
I swallowed hard, biting down the confession that itched at my throat. My loyalty was not to my mother now. It was to Ronson, my alpha. My omega knows quite a lot.
I straightened, squeezed my mother's fingers, and breathed slowly in and out, trying and failing to expel the ragged pain in my head. It didn't work, but it did make my voice steady when I spoke.
"Gryffyd Evans has lost a number of omegas in births as well, Mother. Many women are lost to dragonkin with every match." I searched my mother's lovely, smooth features as her brow furrowed. Did you drink the tea, Mother? Is that why there was only ever me?
"It's-It's true Mr. Evans was not what we might have wanted for you—"
I pulled my hands free from my mother's grip, giving her a simple pat. "Things will turn out as they will. Ronson—Lord Cadogan—he isn't careless with me."
"He's very severe," my mother murmured, shaking her head and saying more to herself than me, "and you are such an unusual sort of omega."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw open the windows of this pretty parlor—one I met with Cook in to organize meals and took tea with Beatrice in, but still felt as though it belonged to someone else—and leap from the windows and take flight over the sea. Not forever, not like Francesca longed to leave the isle and seek adventure, but at least until my parents had loaded themselves into their carriage and returned home.
But I need Ronson to fly, and he was—
A rumble of male voices approached from the hall, and my composure gave way, sinking me back into the cushion of the chair I sat in and drawing a sting of relieved tears to my eyes.
Please let this night be over, I thought, even considered shouting, as the door opened.