Page 49 of In Service to the Duke

It can only be him.

Unable to pull myself away from my task, I follow the scent like a bloodhound chasing after its prey. I’m consumed by it, nearly feral as I seek it out. Every turn, I’m left empty-handed. How can I not find him?

Granted, my sense of direction has always been found lacking. It stands to reason I still have no luck even with my nose telling me which way to go. Turning back around, I freeze. No longer can I see the estate. Trees swallow me up, blocking my view. A soft whimper passes through my lips as I huddle in on myself, my head swiveling about as I seek out any sort of exit from this predicament.

Even now, the scent I was following morphs until all I can smell is the pine surrounding me. There was no honeysuckle at all then. Just the delusions of a touch-starved omega pining after an Alpha she can’t have.

Though I’ve never been told all that much about what happens between Alphas and omegas, I’ve heard smatterings of whispers. The tales I’ve listened in on have always made my blood run cold. Yet again, it’s apparent how dependent we are on the mighty Alphas.

I cannot even make it more than two weeks before descending into madness. And that’s without the illusive claiming which no one will tell me anything about. However, more omegas than I care to think about have ended up in Bedlam, with their minds shattered. All because of an Alpha who cast them aside after using them up.

Then again, it could be I misunderstood. But with the way I’m currently feeling, I don’t suspect it’s too far from the truth. My insides clench as I bend in half, my head pounding as the grass swirls around me.

The warmed chocolate from this morning sits heavy in my gut, threatening to bubble up and spill out all over the ground. Heat surrounds me, stealing my breath. With shaky fingers, I tug at my redingote, determined to get it off of me. Perhaps once the cool air kisses my skin, I’ll be well again.

I struggle against the fabrics, tugging and pulling until I’m finally just in my dress. But even that doesn’t seem to be enough. I long to remove my clothes, to twirl about in the cold air until I’m shivering and unable to move.

It’s madness, an insanity I’ve never known before. Hysterical laughter bubbles up, erupting into the trees. Birds fly away at the sound, their flapping thundering in my ears. Before I can catch myself, I pitch forward, landing on the soft grass.

Tears prick my eyes as I force oxygen into my lungs. Each inhale is laborious as panic causes my body to constrict. What is happening? Am I dying? Dreaming? I grip my hands into fists, feeling the bite of my nails on the skin. Not a dream.

A soft moan slips from my lips as I force my eyes to shut. At least with them closed, the spinning stops. That’s a relief at least. As best as I can, I turn over onto my side and wrap my arms around me.

Curling my knees up to my chest, I lie there, breathing in the comforting scent of pine. Eventually, it calms me enough to lull me to sleep, easing the discomfort afflicting my body. Blackport’s face looms in my mind, drawing out a pained whimper before blackness overtakes me.

* * *

A buzz tickles my ear, stirring me from my sleep. Blinking, I take note of the trees around me, fear whittling away at my heart. It wasn’t a dream. As much as I wish to be back inside my room, safe and bundled up in my bed, I’m outside. Pushing myself up, I take note of my redingote cast over to the ground and press my hand against my lips to keep from screaming.

How did I end up here? I pat my body, looking for any signs I wasn’t alone, but find none. Everything is in place, just as it was when I left. That’s a relief at least.

Since I don’t trust my body after those erratic dreams, I glance about, ensuring I’m alone before gliding my hand up my inner thighs. There’s a dampness between my thighs, but no more than most mornings when I awaken. From there, I brush against my back entrance, relieved to find no trace of my dream demon’s presence.

With all those tests out of the way, I can finally begin to piece together what occurred here. Unfortunately, everything feels fragmented, splintered, as if my mind was not present when my body went on this trip. From what I can remember, I wanted to catch Blackport unawares.

And yet, I never found him. Frantic, I look up into the sky and note the position of the sun. Far longer than I wanted to be out. By now, they’ll start to worry.

Thankfully, the chill from the air and earth seemed to put me back to rights. No longer do I feel that aching heat swirling through my body. I can finally breathe like normal.

Pulling the redingote back around me, I listen to the sound echoing about the trees. Back home, the woods, such as they were, was the only place I could find refuge from my mother. There should be no fear here as I gather my bearings.

I close my eyes and drink in the sounds, using them to guide me. Eventually, the trees clear out to show me the estate once more. Elated, I rush forward, paying no attention to anything else around me.

A loud whinny draws my gaze over to the right, where a massive stallion paws the air. Fear grips me, rendering me unable to move. Thankfully, the rider manages to get him under control and tugs him away from my body.

“Whoa, Hunter,” the duke’s voice cries out. “Whoa boy. Easy. Easy.”

Once the horse calms down, Blackport peers around him, arresting my gaze with his angry glare. “What in the devil do you think you’re doing? Where have you been?” Concern laces his voice, but it can’t be for my well-being.

Could it?

CHAPTER 22

ROBERT

I stare at the small omega before me, a sense of déjà vu slithering through my veins. So similar to when I first saw her. Only now, my feelings are involved. She’s not just some governess set to watch over my sisters.

Now, she’s the woman I would have made into a duchess, the woman who stole my heart, and the omega who haunts my dreams. How many times have I had to stop myself from sneaking her away and shackling her in my dungeon? It would have been so easy.