The Alpha of Bleake Isle (Dragonkin, #1)

by Kathryn Moon

I'd seen the alpha, Lord Ronson Cadogan, nearly ten years ago, and another ten years before that, and the sight of him now made my heart race in terror as fast as it had when I was six and sixteen. Not that I should've expected otherwise. He hadn't changed at all. Not even by a single hair.

My own tongue was tied, but that would've surprised none of the gathered dragonkin society. No, Mairwen the Mouse would have nothing to say. At least nothing of import. The loathsome nickname had ill-suited my appearance since I'd shot up suddenly at sixteen, taller than my own father and most of the men of my acquaintance, and yet Mairwen the Mouse I remained.

It was strange enough to be seen, to be noticed, by anyone these days. I'd taken their name for me to heart, finding small corners to hide and read in. Letting these tedious afternoons pass in my own silence was easier than trying to dig my way into conversations where I wasn't wanted, where Mother's friends could pick at my appearance or the beta gentlemen went out of their way to avoid engaging me in conversation or dance.

It had been half a century since Lord Cadogan had risen as alpha, and for five decades he'd neglected to select an omega to breed and bear his heir. The rumor I'd heard whispered plenty was that our alpha would not choose an omega with another dragon's scent on her. In this—as in many things, according to my father—Lord Cadogan was unlike his father before him. Our previous alpha had gleefully chosen an eligible omega girl of the gentry at nearly every selection. Lord Cadogan's own mother had only put a stop to the practice by very stubbornly refusing to die in childbirth, delivering her alpha a son at last.

It's so predictable, I thought, wishing I could rise up from my chair, turn the alpha in any other direction. Adelaide was the perfect omega, he was the precise definition of an alpha, and it was boring. Boring and…disappointing?

I couldn't be jealous. I was lucky to even have a dragon suitor. Mr. Gryffyd Evans was over a century old, showing more than half his years, and not one of the omegas he'd chosen for a rut had survived childbirth—although several of the children had, all girls, long since grown. I'd been born in an unfortunate year, just a few months shy of having qualified for the last selection, and now by far the eldest omega available for the upcoming one. According to absolutely everyone, and most especially my parents, I ought to be delighted to be all but claimed by Mr. Evans.

Adelaide had given me the nickname of 'Mouse,' although she'd only been six at the time, when she found me hiding under a porch at another garden party, reading. It wasn't her fault it'd been so cheerfully adopted. And it wasn't her fault I'd let it be proven right, keeping to my corners, avoiding the stings of being corrected, rejected, dismissed by staying out of the way.

Father's family fortune had been dwindling for years, and his income had been lost before my birth, when the current Alpha Cadogan had put a stop to indentured servitude. I'd only heard my parents whispering about the state of our finances a few years ago, and the revelations had come with a sick kind of relief. I would rather we be poor than be dressed in finery paid for by the trade of human flesh and labor.

when I did choose to speak, I was too blunt and never charming.

I feel this

My virtues as an omega were few, although my mother thought it likely I would survive childbirth and then most certainly outlive Mr. Evans. Small mercies, I thought, and then batted it away before I could feel dire and trapped again. But my worst deficiency of all was something not even rouge or a fierce set of laces on my stays could cure: I had almost no perfume. Sometimes, I really wasn't sure I had any at all, or if I just had a not unpleasant and nearly human sweat.

The view of the alpha's castle was a black shadow against the nearly set sun, the sky over the sea smeared in vivid golds and burgundy. There was a dark shape in the sky, sailing into the wind. A dragon—the alpha, of course—flying home after unsettling us all. From this distance, he looked more like an irritating thorn in the landscape than the imposing and powerful figure he'd been in Lady Gertrude's salon. With one eye closed, I poised my fingers with his silhouette between them and then pinched them shut, imagining squishing him between my giant's grip. I snorted and turned away, searching for one of my other discarded books to pass the evening.

Better stories in books than in life, I reminded myself. Happier endings too.

I wanted to leave this year's selection with an omega. I was determined to. And for all Adelaide's extreme charms, I couldn't shake the understanding that if she weren't so obviously perfect for an alpha, I would easily choose someone else. She would be wasted on a beta, but I wouldn't miss her.

But I worried that Adelaide, for all she was the obvious right choice, might actually be the wrong choice and I would end up stuck with her.

Niall didn't rise to the bait. He never did, insufferably cool as he was. And strangely, I wanted to know what made her interesting to him but refused to ask. He would turn my teasing back on me quick as a whip. Better to be left out of the joke than let Niall make one at my expense.

My effect on omegas was biological, flattering, and somewhat irksome—part of the reason I'd avoided any courting in the past.

These parties were tedious. These people weren't much better.

I would do everything in my power to keep her alive, which was more than she could hope for with most betas, or with an alpha like my father. Dragon births were difficult, and many betas didn't care about the loss of an omega in the process. The child's survival was always first priority. And perhaps some dragons were a little too eager to move on to a fresh choice of omega.

In truth, the scent marks had never bothered me as much as the betas liked to think. I just hadn't wanted any of the omegas. But too much time had passed and I could no longer afford to be picky. To wait for claiming to be an intense urge, rather than a political necessity.

There were dragonkin gentlemen who elected not to use their wings, their dragon's form, considering it beastly. But flight was the only gift of our bloodline I really enjoyed. I would've gladly kept my place as a beta if I hadn't hated my father so much, seen how desperately the island needed his seat as alpha overthrown.

Our omegas had been secretly fleeing on ships one by one, our human population dying under horrible working conditions. And betas took their profit and their heirs and carried on, as if all this were acceptable so long as their pockets were deep and there were young omegas for their beds. Challenging my father to fight for the role as alpha was not solely my ambition, but my duty to the island. Most days, being alpha was more trouble than it was worth, and even the rut was an uncomfortable chore.

but a crunch from behind sent me whirling around, surprise striking me roughly at what I found. The strange omega woman, the one Niall and I had seen hiding from Gamesby's party, was wandering blindly through the trees, barely feet away. They called her Mouse, as I'd learned from a chuckling pack of beta dragons over whiskey after a dinner. She had her nose in another book, not even noticing a briar catching on her skirts, and definitely unaware that she was about to walk straight into an argument I was dying to hear the culmination of. If she looked up, saw me, made any noise at all, she might alert them to my presence.

I lurched forward as quietly as I could and grabbed her, clapping my hand over her lips, a suitably mouse-ish but small squeak released against my palm. With another quick, careful motion, I hauled her up off her clumsy feet and into my hiding spot with a tight grip around her arms and waist. "Silence," I spoke roughly into her ear. She tensed in my arms, and I noted with surprise that her stodgy-looking frame was, in fact, a very unfortunate disguise. She felt quite promising, now that I had my arms around her. Her stomach was soft, and her ass was incredibly full and plush against my hips. Interesting. Distracting, even.

I could've let her go, told her to stay quiet, but it would've been a wasted chance to hold such a comfortably formed body. She did have a scent after all, a tiny one, but it reminded me of a perfume I'd smelled on a human woman once, designed to entice a dragon—amber and gold, warm and syrupy. It was fainter on the Posy girl, but less artificial too.

For both our sakes, I lifted her off her toes, hiking her up at my side. Her arms wrapped easily around my shoulders, and I turned and walked us carefully away from the lovers' explicit speech. The omega—Mairwen! I recalled at last—remained docile, pressed to my chest, her hands tight and almost possessive on my shoulders as I carried her. I headed roughly toward the village. The Posy estate sat on the other side of the town, in view of my castle. "They're planning on killing you," Mairwen whispered, apparently satisfied with the distance we'd traveled. "I gathered," I answered, lips twitching. She huffed and started to squirm.

I understood now why her clothes looked frumpy on her. The silhouettes of current fashion were too slim and straight to suit a form so inclined to volume and shape. She would look better out of her clothes than in, and I glanced down at her unjustly disguised breasts. What fool had thought to flatten them in a trap and then cover her up to her chin in fabric?

She frowned back at me, lips twisting and pursing. She had a wide mouth, lips ample for kissing. She was still…not pretty, precisely, but I was realizing there was something there that deserved attention.

She was recommending me alternatives. This odd omega they called Mouse, who'd never been properly introduced to me and had never spoken a word to anyone when I'd been present, was offering her opinion on whom I might choose instead. And she hadn't started with herself, bold as her words were. Damnit. Niall was right. She was the most interesting one of the lot. Strange and mostly plain, but also lush and a bit direct, without a proper omega's perfume.

It was a shame she was walking ahead of me. So few people ever saw me smile.

I turned my head to the side, dipping my nose down to my shoulder, trying to catch another whiff of that harsh, oaky scent of the alpha. I'd bathed as soon as I got home, scrubbed myself clean and changed my dress, but I could still feel the pressure of his arm around my waist, and it seemed impossible that some evidence shouldn't still remain.

It would be difficult to resist the urge to fight this man, but if he looked forward to it, I was better off denying him one.

Betas' lives were almost triple the length of an omega's, and that was without our added risk of childbirth.

Lord Cadogan had carried me through the woods with no effort I could detect, and while I hadn't felt dainty, his hold was comfortable and I'd been less self-conscious in his company than most men's.

Lord Cadogan's dragon was earthy shades of black and rust, a fiery orange cast on his scaled belly. His body was long and solidly built, but not heavy and rounded like the illustrations of his father I'd seen. The dragon was as beautifully terrifying as the man, and he swooped overhead to the cheers of the human villagers standing and to the polite clapping of dragonkin.

I blinked as he stopped in front of me again, towering over even my height, his wings blocking me from view. "What are you—?" I whispered, but my words turned to stone on my tongue as he bent slightly at the waist. My head fell back automatically as his face neared me, offering my throat, the combination of omega instincts and shock leaving me powerless. His breath was heavy on my neck, like a stormy wind in my ears as he inhaled deeply, the audience so surprised, so confused, they joined him in the sudden breath. 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.

His nose stroked my throat, and I shuddered, his hands holding me more firmly in answer. His head lifted, and I could not bear to look him in the eye, keeping my gaze on those passing clouds, his handsome and cruel face hazy at my periphery. Was that a smile on his lips? My chest was burning up, and I wondered if an omega had ever breathed dragon's fire before. "You'll do." Even with his back turned to the audience, the words were clear, loud enough. He'd raised his voice for their sake. You'll do? Do for what? I met his stare, and the answer was obvious, and yet absurd.

"Are you mad?" Hugh Gamesby all but shouted, bursting into the tent. "I would've assumed you'd be relieved, Gamesby." My lips twitched at the alpha's dry tone, and I turned my head into the prickly, hay-scented pillow on the cot. A throat cleared, and Hugh Gamesby changed his track. "I mean, my gods, man, of course I'm delighted you haven't stolen the finest omega this island has seen in over a century right out from under me, but…" But why? Hugh wanted to ask. "I ought to claim goodwill on my part, but in truth, I picked the woman I was most interested in." I stiffened at the words, my head blanking, heart drumming. Liar! Or did interested in mean baffled by?

"Gwenievere and I would…be grateful for a chance to say goodbye to our little mouse before you leave, my lord." "Of course, Lord Posy. I'm sure we'll be out directly." My father hummed, paused, and then his feet scuffed over the grass. The alpha's shadow vanished, and the light in the tent dimmed. I must've expected the earth to tremble as the stage had, because I nearly leapt off the cot as a hand touched my back. "You can stop pretending to sleep now," the alpha—my alpha said.

"What were you thinking?" she blurted out. I had to check that my claws were staying sheathed after the bickering of Gamesby and Evans. 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. "Do you object?" I asked, crouching at her side.

The thoughts flitted across her face almost as clearly as if I were reading the books she'd always had on her person during the courting season.

"I can keep the old dragon out of your way," I said, because I was more curious to see if she would choose between her own freedom and my bed, than if she would choose between Evans and me. "I don't object, my lord," she said, and the words were measured and careful. "But I'm very surprised. And so will the rest of society be. I know no one should question you, but they will. You might want to think of an answer for them." She's smart. I'd realized as much yesterday while walking her home, sharp observations about all of the isle's dragonkin just bubbling out of her. She knew more than I did, had seen more than I had, simply by hovering at the edges of events. I rose up, and she craned her neck back, unafraid to meet my stare. "You're right. But I know I did make the right choice, Mairwen Posy."

She blinked at me, and a slight whiff of that amber-sweet scent floated up to my nose. I'd been hunting for it on the stage, wondering if I'd imagined it yesterday, and it'd been elusive, almost vanishing. But there it was, a sliver of promise, one that carved a deep hunger in my belly. This woman was an omega—my omega now, for better or worse. Perhaps the rest of dragonkin had managed to overlook her, to leave her behind for a man like Mr. Evans to pick off. I would not.

The questions from Gamesby and the others were all correct. I'd surprised myself choosing her. The idea had amused me overnight, but it wasn't until I was standing on the stage that I realized I'd decided on her. It wasn't that the others were marked with beta scents. And it wasn't even that I was lucky to know Adelaide's true character. 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… No, that certainly didn't hurt.

I wrapped my arm around her back and placed my hand on her waist, her shoulder brushing my chest and top of her head just coming to my nose. She was quieter now than yesterday, subdued by shock. I would just have to find a way to coax her character out again.

"How did you manage to avoid Evans?" I asked as we neared the tent flap. I was relieved for her, and curious too. Was she so little favored that Evans didn't even care to mark her? "I threw up on him," Mairwen murmured. I'd already started to step through the parted canvas as she answered, and her words struck me hard, a sudden bark of laughter rising up from my chest.

It caught the attention of the other dragons and their wives and daughters, all milling together to the left of the stage on the tidy lawn. Few of them had ever heard me laugh, and they stared now as I fought to bury my grin. I glanced down and found Mairwen's smile was nervous, but it would do. I ducked my head to whisper in her ear, aware of the picture of us, of what gossip it might stir up. "Then I consider myself very lucky you only fainted," I said, brushing my lips against her ear. She huffed a laugh, relaxing just a fraction into my side. "You should. I'm still a bit queasy." Noted, I thought.

while I should've stayed, offered everyone an appropriate congratulations, Mairwen was shrinking under the stares and my temper was rising. "Come, Mairwen. It's time for you to see your new home," I said. Chuckles rose from the beta dragons, an edge of mockery in the sound that made my claws itch in my fingertips. Mairwen took my arm again, nodding up at me, and I led her toward the edge of the gathered dragonkin. "Good luck, Mouse." I started to turn, and it was Mairwen who tugged me forward, her own determination stony.

But I glanced back at Adelaide's quiet statement, the beautiful omega's eyes narrowed on the woman at my side. Mairwen's jaw was clenched, her chin high. The words bothered her. Was it the intention behind them, or the use of that nickname?

Mairwen froze as I lifted a hand to her face, cupping her jaw gently, lifting it up. She was shocked by the touch, perhaps realizing my intention, and a little terrified too. But she stretched closer. I won't have to hunch, I realized with an absent kind of approval. I ducked my head, and cheers went up from the crowd of humans. Mairwen jolted briefly, my mouth hovering over hers, her eyes huge. And then her lids fell shut and she rose up to her toes. The kiss was shy, barely a press from her, and I found myself fighting a smile. I wrapped my free arm around her waist, tugging her closer, and gently pulled her bottom lip between mine. She released a soft note of confusion but answered the gesture with a natural impulse, molding her lips to mine, arching in my arms.

That sunny amber flavor was a whisper on her mouth as I licked at her, teasing her with my tongue. Her breath hitched and her lips parted, and while I told myself I was only taking a chaste kiss for the benefit of our audience, I found myself hunting for more of that rare flavor. Mairwen was softening in my arms, her own hands sliding up to clutch the collar of my coat. She didn't know how to respond as I stroked my tongue against hers, but she shivered and her sweet breath huffed, laced with what I was sure was her perfume. I pulled away slowly, nipping her top and bottom lip, and Mairwen's eyes fluttered open, a darker shade of honey. Again, a gritty voice in my head urged.