She’d once loved the sound of her name on another’s lips, forever reduced to demeaning pet names and the cold formal honorifics. Now she hated it, for the sound of it in his husky tones made her shiver and not for the reasons it should.
“I’m ready,” she said, opening the door with head bowed as she promised herself to stick to her plan this time.
She’d stop caring what he did and with who. Would mind her tongue and her feelings both until he tired of her and moved on to the next woman that fell under him. Only then would Elena have some freedom. She’d have her child, too.
“You look…” Leon trailed off, his fingers brushing her hair back over her shoulders and away from her face. He made a pleased sound deep in his chest as he bent to lay a kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You’re lucky we don’t have time for me to ruin that lipstick.”
Finally, she’d done something right.
Elena followed him down the stairs and out to the waiting car, forcing herself not to flinch as he touched her far more than was necessary. She applauded herself for not cringing as he leaned into the sleek car to latch her belt, his nose nuzzlingher cheek before he extricated his large body from the opening.
He was quiet during the long drive there. Through the meandering streets, past manicured lawns and their spikey iron fences, his only action was to reach over and grip her thigh. Giving it a light squeeze at moments, though Elena was uncertain if he was attempting to reassure her or lay his claim upon her.
When they arrived, a man in a smart suit opened her door with a hand extended to help her out. Leon growled low in his throat, shoving the man aside. Wrenched a pained gasp from Elena’s lips as he pulled her from the car, jostling her wounded arm.
Quick to school her features into something far more pleasant, she plastered a small smile on her lips as if nothing was wrong when he looked to her. Kept it all in place as Leon led her to the front door that was already opening to allow them inside.
“He’s in the study, sir,” said yet another man who had opened the door. “Maggie will take her to the drawing room.”
Leon didn’t even glance at her as he released Elena’s arm, heading off to the right as a maid came up to her, a tight gesture of her arm waving Elena in the opposite direction. She glanced back the once, feeling strangely abandoned, but he paid no attention to her now. Struggling to keep her head held high, Elena followed the woman to a set of doors that led into a spacious parlor. There wasn’t a friendly face to be found among the women scattered throughout the room, all of them looking at Elena as if she’d tracked mud into the house. Seven in all, they ranged in age from old enough to be her mother to not much older than Elena herself.
“Well, come in,” a pale beauty said, her brilliant blue eyes shards of ice as she gave Elena a thorough once over.
The first to speak, she must be the first Omega in this house. She was older, with fine lines around her eyes and lips, but herbelly was swollen with child and the snug fit of her dress made it all the more apparent.
Elena gained all of two steps, hands twisting together at her waist before she remembered herself and dropped them at her sides. Smoothing the lines of cool gray hugging her hips, she offered up a fractured smile.
“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” Elena said, feeling nothing so much as the sheep readying for the butcher’s block.
They shared a look between one another, excluding Elena all together before they turned their judging gazes back to her, finding her wanting.
“You are the one my Leon has mated,” a dark haired woman demanded, raising two fingers to signal the young woman hovering nearby. The maid brought her a small glass of wine that didn’t dare tremble as she handed it over.
“Yes, I am.” Elena took a steadying breath, taking in Leon’s mother with a surreptitious glance. She was beautiful, with thick, lush curls of dark russet and eyes of almost the same shade. Those same eyes that held nothing but contempt and derision for Elena now.
The same eyes Leon turned on her again and again.
“I told you she had to be at least pretty, Francesca,” one of the younger Omegas whispered loudly.
“Strange eyes will not make my boy happy, Nicoletta,” Francesca murmured, having only a little more tact as she continued to stare boldly at Elena. Raising her voice, she addressed Elena again, “Just how did you manage to convince my son to take you on? An Omega without a family, living in squalor and without propriety.”
“I was hardly living in squalor.” Elena’s cheeks warmed and, try as she might to keep her chin high, her head bowed as her social transgressions were laid out before her.
“I see you don’t argue the rest,” another dark haired womanscoffed. She and Francesca could be sisters for all their similarities, but the way they sat on opposite sides of the room made Elena think they were anything but close.
“Dinner is ready, madams,” a different Beta man in a suit announced as he opened the doors without knocking.
Just how many servants did it take to run this household? Elena gave a mental shrug, glad to quit the parlor as she turned on her heel and rushed after the man, following him to the dining room to get as far away from the caustic miasma of the other Omegas. They hated her, thought her less than for her situation when Leon took her. Acted as if she’d had any choice in the matter when he did.
“She is a beauty, I’ll give you that,” a deep, rumbling voice said as Elena entered. “Come here, girl, show yourself.”
Elena would have turned right back around had Leon not caught her arm, forcing her forward to meet the owner of that growling tone. She glanced up just the once, given an impression of a far older version of Leon, honed to a precision that the younger man had yet to achieve, though he was sharp in ways this one would never be.
Back snug against Leon’s front, she was held still for inspection. Her nerves frayed the longer it went on until she gave the slightest shift of her weight to convey her discomfort to Leon. It went unnoticed as they began talking over her, listing her attributes as if she were a prized mare to be admired. Her skin crawled as she felt their combined gazes roving over her.
“This is my father Salvio, Elena,” Leon finally said after a lengthy discussion about her shape and form and how it might lend itself well to pregnancy.
“Good evening,” Elena murmured, keeping her eyes cast down at the shiny tips of Salvio’s shoes.
