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Chapter FortyMAIRWEN
Ipaced in front of Ronson's office, pausing every so often to let the rustle of my skirts and wings settle, hoping I might make out some of the softly-spoken words from the other side of the door.
This was silly. Ronson had offered to let me sit in on the conversation with my father. Except I was afraid of what I might hear, that I might try to influence Ronson in the wrong direction. I did love my parents and I understood that they loved me, but there were pieces of our relationship that were broken, and if my father had schemed with Gamesby and Palmer against Ronson, I didn't want to excuse those actions.
My mother's voice trembled from inside the office, and my hands twisted in front of me. I hadn't wanted to see them yet, not until after Ronson had made his decision. Father had likely seen me transform, and according to Niall, there were already several rumors floating around the island regarding the golden dragon who'd flown in a lather across the sky yesterday. Rumors about the incarceration of the betas who'd attacked Ronson too. Already dragonkin and humans were gathering in the festival field, waiting for our arrival, for the answers to their many growing questions.
The door cracked, and I startled, stepping back out of the way. It was Niall who exited the office rather than Ronson, and I breathed a sigh of relief as he offered me a reassuring smile.
"Coming in?" he asked softly, tipping his head back into the room.
A small part of me, the part society called Mouse, wanted to scurry back up to my rooms or into the library. I shook my head and rolled my sore shoulders, my wings flexing as I stepped forward. Ronson had taken me flying in the dark the night before, getting in enough practice for me to be steady on my own. He wanted me to fly with him for the a
Better not to delay, I reminded myself, then walked into the office.
My mother gasped, falling down into the chair behind her, but my father remained standing, eyes wide.
"It's true," he murmured, stepping forward and then freezing. "I could barely believe what I'd seen, but…"
"Wings… I read a-a silly story once where an omega had wings," my mother murmured, her stare glazed as it traveled across one of my wings and then the other.
My eyebrows rose in surprise. "I wondered if some traces must've remained, in literature or art." I shrugged and my wings moved with me, and both of my parents stifled another gasp, as if they still weren't quite sure if they could believe their own eyes.
"I-I owe you…many apologies, Mairwen," my father said as he took two more tremulous steps forward, almost as if he were afraid of me. I suppose I had been fairly fearsome when I'd transformed in front of him. "Most pressingly for allowing Palmer's influence to coerce me here yesterday."
I glanced at Ronson behind his desk, and he offered a subtle nod. He believed my father. That was a relief.
"If you hadn't come, I might not have realized Ronson was under attack," I said. I shifted toward my father, wondering if he would flinch back, but he only heaved out a breath and lurched, meeting me halfway, circling his arms around me in a tight hug.
"I thought you'd leapt to your death," he whispered, a fragile tear in the words.
"Mairwen's arrival certainly settled the matter amongst the betas. We are the strength of two dragons," Ronson said firmly, smiling at me.
It had been literal after all. A mated alpha had another dragon at his side, fighting with him, making him stronger. And according to Ronson, I made a formidable addition to his strength, which was a compliment I hadn't expected to enjoy so much. It was nice to be considered ferocious instead of forgettable.
I was a dragon. The alpha's mate. Ronson's siren. My spine straightened, and the tension in my chest faded away.
"Could we have a moment alone?" I asked Ronson.
"Of course." Ronson rounded his desk, reaching me without a moment of hesitation as he drew me closer, lips grazing over my brow. "I'll be in the hall with Niall."
I lifted my face to kiss his jaw before he slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with my parents. It was quiet in the room, the sun cutting through the window panes, stretching across Ronson's desk to reach the three of us.
"May I…may I touch?" My mother's hand was outstretched, hovering next to my right wing, and I fought the urge to tuck them close.
This was a small sample of how the isle might respond—the disbelief, the curiosity, the wariness. There would be outrage too, I was sure. Omegas were meant to be dainty and delicate and talented at pouring tea and stitching. We weren't meant to be dragons.
But we were dragonkin, so perhaps it was time for society to catch back up.
"You may," I said, flexing my wing open, letting it butt into my mother's fingers. She gasped, her hand retreating and then returning.
"My goodness. My word. Oh, Agnes Hubbard will be quite envious," my mother said, finishing with a trilling laugh. "She always did think wings were a waste on gentlemen. They never have so many things to do as an omega."
My father's eyes were fixed to my face rather than my wings, searching me, studying. "Can you forgive me, Mairwen?"
My mother startled, retreating to his side, glancing between us, delivering that watery, pleading stare to me, urging me to say yes.
"I will forgive you for coming here with Palmer, for letting his words twist your judgment," I said.
My mother sighed, a tremulous smile offered to my father, but he was still watching me.
"But?" he prompted.
I wet my lips, wondering if might be better to bid them goodbye for now, to push no further. I didn't need their support. I couldn't, wouldn't go back in time to change anything, but only because I had what I needed and wanted most now. Still…
"But…I wish that it hadn't taken someone else—a stranger to me, to you—to see that I was not wrong, or inappropriate, or less than the other omegas," I said softly, drawing a deep breath and continuing before they might interject. "I wish not that I had been enough for you both, because I was always enough. I wish that when all others had found fault in me, you had loved me as your daughter, exactly as I was, so that I might've loved myself too."
My mother's breath caught, her eyes wide, tears slipping free. "Mairwen," she murmured, and I wasn't sure if it was a plea, or an objection, or a refusal of what I spoke.
I shook my head. "I am not the wrong size, and I'm not strange. I am beautiful, I have a perfume, I have a nice singing voice, and I do know my place. It is here, with the alpha. With my mate."
"We see that, Mairwen," my father said, dipping his head. "We see that now."
I nodded, smoothing my hands over my skirts. "I can't say I won't forgive you for how long it took. I think I am the forgiving sort, and I do love you both…but I haven't yet. That will take more time."
My mother was flushed, avoiding my gaze, but my father would soothe her shame in private. He reached for me and I accepted, squeezing his hand in mine. I didn't know exactly when I would be ready to see them again, to risk another di
The crowd was far larger than I'd expected, fuller even than the day of the selection, although Niall had said those crowds had thi
To gawk at the omega with wings.
"Mating is natural to dragonkin, an honored practice we lost over time and one I am wholly grateful to discover with my own omega," Ronson continued, his voice loud but unable to cut through the murmurs and mutterings of our audience.
His expression grew darker by the moment, and I resisted the urge to fidget at his side. Niall had arranged for the pamphlets we'd had printed to be passed around, but it was clear that most people were discarding them or tucking them away.
They didn't care about Ronson biting me, or that I was his mate. They cared that they were looking at a woman with wings. The more he spoke, the more restless they grew.
When Ronson took a steadying breath, a rough voice rose up from the crowd, accent strange and thick.
"Wings look damned fake to me!"
My eyebrows rose, and I turned to Ronson, whose eyes were full of irate fire. His body tensed, as if prepared to launch himself into the crowd and fight whoever had spoken.
"Show us yer dragon, then!"
I squinted and found movement in the crowd, a figure in a strangely heavy cloak shifting from one spot to another. Their head lifted briefly, revealing a pronounced nose and a roguish smile.
Seamus DeRoche…egging on the crowd?
No…
Encouraging me.
Let them see me, my dragon purred, shifting restlessly, hot in my chest. Show them my beauty and my claws.
I squeezed Ronson's hand, his teeth bared in a snarl, and he calmed again with one smile from me. The crowd quieted into sudden silence as I stepped forward.
"Very well," I said, and a collective breath was stolen, a great shift in the air, anticipation electric.
I hadn't transformed since Ronson coaxed my dragon back after yesterday's fight, but she was there in my chest, ready and eager, equally amused with Seamus's scheming.
Ronson tugged at our hands to catch my attention, searching my face for a moment before relaxing, satisfied that I was comfortable. "I'll give you room," he said, stepping back and then surging forward for a firm kiss that made our audience titter.
My eyes slid shut as I opened to him, but he was gone too quickly and the entire island was looking at me now. I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the inevitable censure and alarm of their stares, then reopened my eyes.
They're small. Just snacks, my dragon soothed me easily.
And through her eyes, the crowd on the ground, the notable dragonkin in the winged risers that surrounded the field, were only strange human faces, ones she couldn't even tell apart.
I released my breath slowly, and heat circled me, crackling in my ear and raising the fine hairs on my skin. I'd wondered if transforming was painful for Ronson, and while there was a discomfort in the expansion, the truth was simpler. My dragon reached out to part the curtain of one small, fragile form and to reveal the strength within. I moaned, and the sound was low and rattling. My wings spread back, huge and majestic, and my face rose high to the sky, stretching up, up, up, until the sun glinted off my horns.