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Better stories in books than in life, I reminded myself. Happier endings too.
It was a shame she was walking ahead of me. So few people ever saw me smile.
Don't be sick. Don't be sick. Don't be sick, I chanted to my rioting stomach. Oh, to be sick on Mr. Evans was a blessing, but on the alpha? I would sooner throw myself off the cliffs.
The betas had grown far too bold in the past fifty years. Mairwen was also too bold, but I suspected that had more to do with her nature than a lack of respect or fear for me. And sure enough, she blanched and shrank back slightly as the words left her lips.
I simply…liked the little I knew of Mairwen. I wanted to know more. And the thought of uncovering her softness, of taking her into my nest and pressing that secretive form against mine for the rut…
"Show her the library," I said to Bea, finally unwrapping my arm from Mairwen's shoulders. Her breath hitched, and her scent wisped into the air again, gnawing down into my stomach and lower. Books were part of the equation then. Noted.
Niall stared at me for a moment, blinking, and his lips parted. "Ronson. You like her." I huffed. "I know that." "Oh. I didn't."
My eyelids drooped, and my hips bucked in a plea. I did not mind being at Mairwen's mercy in the least, not with the collar of her chemise coming loose, offering me exquisite shadows to guess at.
The ache in my back faded as my shoulders settled, hands unclenching from the waistband of my trousers, the corners of my mouth quirking at the sight of my exhausted omega. She'd made me a nest of books.
more titles to prove the sweet and strangely vulnerable fact that this young woman had spent the evening researching how to be…mine.
I would make her weak, destroy her with these touches, and I would cherish her in the wreckage.
"I should've said, 'Hello, I know we haven't spoken'" —another kiss, this one below the first— "'but I think,'" I continued, purring and whispering, gently pushing the sleeves of Mairwen's gown down until they reached her elbows and she drew her arms free, "'you are exactly what I need.'"
Why did it sound as though she knew heartbreak? Why did her voice cry with tears? Had she loved someone? Someone who'd left her behind?
I would tear them limb from limb, then thank them for leaving the road open for me to claim my omega.
Mairwen was casting a spell, or perhaps she was pulling aside the enchantment, the one that had fooled this island into seeing a mouse, so easily overlooked. And what was behind the curtain was terrifying and divine, a woman capable of offering salvation or devastation to your heart.
I didn't want him to see her. I didn't want any of them looking at her. Mine, my dragon growled. And so she was.
My omega. My… There wasn't a word for what Mairwen really was to me. I needed one. I needed her. Immediately.
"Mairwen. Is this not your fist in my chest? You clasped it around my heart, and you now demand every beat it issues."
"I want my mark on you. I want a life with you—my whole life, not part of it. I want you to have my strength, and I desperately need yours, Mairwen. I don't want an heir. I want a child. Your child. Ours. When and if you're ready."
Ronson groaned, nose digging into my cheek, chest heaving against mine as he gulped for air. "I love you. I love you. I love you, Mairwen." And for some reason, I didn't doubt for a moment that he meant it. "Nest, alpha," I murmured against his ear. "Nest, mate," he corrected.
It was nice to be considered ferocious instead of forgettable. I was a dragon. The alpha's mate. Ronson's siren.
"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."
