The Alpha of Bleake Isle

Chapter Thirty-SevenMAIRWEN

“Omega Cadogan? Lord Posy is here and has asked to see you," the maid a

Yes, please, I thought, then grimaced and shook my head. "No. No, I'll see him."

"I should bring him here?" the girl asked.

I glanced around me, then sat up, dragging my legs off the couch. Every flat surface in the library was covered with open texts about mating or birthing practices.

"No, I think the blue parlor would be best," I said, rising and breathing a sigh of relief when the room remained steady and no dizziness struck me.

I'd promised Ronson I was fine, and for the most part, I believed I was telling the truth. If anything, I felt stronger than usual. Even the many flights of stairs between the nest and the kitchens hadn't made me breathless and wobbly earlier. But there was something different, and I couldn't decide between the urge to ignore it entirely, afraid of what I might find, and my usual curious impulse to study it and make sense of the symptoms.

I smoothed my sleeves and skirts as the maid hurried to escort my father. I could take my time, do my best to soothe my nerves, if possible. My hair was down, braided, and for anyone else I might try and twist it up, but it was only my father visiting. I tucked loose strands of hair behind my ears and picked up my shawl from the arm of the couch, draping it over my shoulders to hide the bite mark on my throat.

Good enough for Father, I thought, a bittersweet ache in my chest as I headed for the hall.

I'd always been grateful to my father. He'd seemed to accept me as I was—a great relief in contrast to my mother, who had plucked and pushed and ordered my corset laces tighter at every opportunity, wanting me to be more like the other omegas. Since Ronson had claimed me, I realized that my father's acceptance was slightly tainted. He accepted the daughter the rest of dragonkin saw me as, flawed and disappointing and not worth as much as the other omegas. It was something more like resignation, really, not love. I was what he'd had to work with, and so he'd made the best of me. He'd sold me to Gryffyd Evans.

I couldn't imagine the life I might've had, if not for that chance moment with Ronson. I was too far removed from that woman by now, even in the few months it had been. I would've been miserable. No, much more than that.

I shuddered as the door to the parlor opened, the maid departing, and caught sight of my father standing at the center of the room, his back to me.

He earned his way contracting humans' labor and lives. Why not sell his daughter too? I thought bitterly, wishing now that I'd sent him away, waited for Ronson's return.

My rough sigh was too loud, and my father turned to face me before I could devise an escape.

"Mairwen! There you are." His smile was bright, and his arms stretched wide, open for a hug. A year ago, I would've been overjoyed if he'd looked so happy to see me. Now there was only a brief, cool relief that he'd used my real name.

"Hello, Father," I said, forcing a smile to my lips and entering the room. "Forgive my informal dress. I wasn't expecting anyone."

"No matter, no matter. What is the use of formality between father and daughter?" he asked, bracing his hands on my shoulders as I reached him. He stepped back, still smiling, although up close, there was less joy in the expression than I'd realized. His gaze studied me slowly, searching more thoroughly than ever before, and I crossed my arms over my stomach and stepped away.

I twisted to seat myself in an armchair and gasped at the sight of a second man in the room. Redmond Palmer stood on the other side of the door where it hung open, out of my view as I'd entered the room, and he smirked as I startled, offering me a low bow.

"Apologies for intruding on the visit, Omega Cadogan. Your father and I were out on business together when he asked to stop and see you," Lord Palmer said, tugging his scarlet waistcoat back into place as he straightened.

I fought my frown, but the maid had already vanished. I would have to find her later and speak to her about a

"Please, sit," I offered, watching them carefully. Palmer sat near the door in another armchair that faced me, and my father at my side. "Lord Cadogan is away at the moment, and I have my own work to attend to shortly, but it is nice to see you," I said to my father. I glanced at Lord Palmer and tried not to let my suspicion show on my face. "What business do you have together?"

Lord Palmer's lips twitched in amusement, but my father blustered, smoothing his palms over his knees and forcing out a chuckle. "Mouse, what need do you have to know men's business?"

"The isle's interests are my interests, just as they are my ma—Lord Cadogan's." I corrected my near slip with a huff, wetting my lips and hoping neither man noticed. Would they even realize I had almost called Ronson my mate?

My father glanced at Palmer, plucking at the fabric of his trousers, a nervous fidget that made me want to shift restlessly or rise and run from the room.

"Surely, Omega Cadogan, your most important role is to bear and nurture the alpha's heir," Palmer said with sickly sweetness.

Rat, a dark voice snarled in my head, but it came with a sense of comfort, of not being alone in the moment.

This was no heartburn blazing in my chest. I lifted my chin and tried to swallow against the scorching sensation in my throat that begged to be let loose.

"Surely, Lord Palmer, Lady Palmer will see to the rearing of your two boys, the managing of your household, the bookkeeping of your accounts, and any interests of her own. We women are raised to widely share our talents and attention," I said cooly, even as the fire built inside of me. I tipped my head and glared at Redmond Palmer, my fingers digging into the arms of my seat like claws. "Why did you bring my father here?"

"M-Mairwen," my father murmured. "Perhaps, sir, it would be better if⁠—"

Palmer raised his hand and nodded. "Say no more. I'll give you both a moment."

"Remain in the hall, if you don't mind, my lord," I said, voice sharp and teeth snapping shut. The last thing we needed right now was Palmer snooping about. I watched him rise and leave, the door almost completely shut. And then I turned back to my father, sighing. "Father, why would you bring that man⁠—"

"Mairwen, hush a moment and listen to me," Father said, leaning forward earnestly and grabbing my hands. "Are you pregnant with the alpha's heir?"

"Father!" I reared back, but my father's hands were tight around mine, his eyes wide.

"This is important, daughter. Palmer knows of a doctor who can safely rid you of the alpha's offspring, but it must be soon," my father whispered.

I gaped at the man before me, familiar and a stranger all at once. It wasn't the concept I rejected but the source—that men like my father or Palmer might know of such a possibility and reserve it for their own whim.

"I think it very obvious why Lord Palmer might offer such assistance to me, Father. How can you not see his motivations are to thwart our alpha?" I asked, barely lowering my voice. My skin felt too tight, hot and aching, and my nausea had returned.

My father blew out a breath and shook his head. "His motivations are meaningless when he is offering you the security of surviving, Mouse."

"I am not a mouse," I spat, yanking my hands from my father's, fisting them into my lap.

"Mairwen," my father pleaded.

"This is a scheme, Father. A bad one. A treasonous one," I said. Ronson had given me the choice, and in a cruel, backwards way, my father was doing the same. I wanted to march into the streets and scream at top of my lungs what omegas were being denied, these secrets that our dragonkin had kept from us.

"Mairwen, listen!" my father snapped, and I flinched and then wanted to roar at him and myself for the reaction. "With the alpha gone, there will be no one to protect you. Even if you survived the child⁠—"

I stood, a loud, sharp ringing in my ears, a dark vibration in my chest. When the warning note settled, the sound of my own snarl was all that remained in the quiet.

"What did you just say?" I asked, and my voice was lower, thicker, a growl in the words.

My father sat back in his chair, eyes darting to the door.

With the alpha gone…

"Mou-Mairwen, wait!" my father cried out.

But I was already racing for the door, tearing it open and ignoring the resulting bang! as it crashed against the wall. Palmer startled outside, just across the hall, and his lips flattened with one glance at me.

"Where is he?" I growled.

"What did you say?" Palmer asked, looking over my shoulder to my father.

I'd had enough of men speaking around me for one day, enough of being overlooked for a lifetime. There were sharp points pricking into my palms, and my hands stretched for Palmer, grabbing him by his gaudy coat and yanking him into the room. Ivory claws tore holes in the wool.

"Where is my alpha?!"

Palmer paled now, surprised by my strength, perhaps, or by a woman's anger in earnest. Or perhaps it was the sight of the blue flames that licked out between my lips, reaching for his face.

"Precisely where he told you he would be, Omega Cadogan," Palmer answered, taking a breath, trying to straighten in my grip, to regain his footing. "If he's not dead by now."

I shook him hard, staring down at him, watching him grow smaller in my grip, my knuckles sharpening, the room too hot and tiny and crowded with men.

"Fang's fire, what's happening?!" my father shouted.

Palmer's eyes were wide enough to see white around his irises now, and there, in their terrified reflection, was a ferocious creature with sharp horns and bright eyes. I was dizzy, breathless, but I couldn't faint in front of Palmer. I didn't dare.

"Posy, get back!" Palmer shouted, and I was buffeted by waves of sharp, crackling energy, like lightning. He was going to transform into a dragon, here in this small, pretty blue parlor.

He would tear the castle open.

Eat him, the new voice in me purred. He will stick between our teeth, but it will silence his tongue.

I roared at him instead, delighted by the sound, by the release of pressure in my chest, and dragged him over to the windows.

"No, wait!" Palmer scrambled, pulling a chair onto its back as he grabbed it in a panic to stop our progress.

I threw us into the glass, shattering it against hard scales.

"Mairwen!" my father screamed.

The air outside was warm and fast, caressing against me, and falling was not so different than flying with Ronson as he teased me and dove toward the waves.

Ronson.

My mate. Our mate.