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One remained, and jubilation sang through the grove. Her skin shivered with gooseflesh; buoyed by the expectation of all present and her own thundering heart, she turned to the final path.
“I am the Alpha of this sleuth.” Arthur, her husband, her Alpha, stepped forward. She had never seen him in ducal raiment: he was in full rig-out, his linen immaculate, his ceremonial sword gleaming in the firelight, his sash snug across his chest, the entire ensemble topped with nothing less than his coronation robes, crimson velvet draped with the four ermine tails denoting his rank. He looked down at her from his great height, his eyes rich in the firelight, mercurial as they flashed from his own to his creature’s, golden and warm.
“You are welcome, Alpha. You are welcome, my love.” Her heart bloomed like a rose. “In accepting this light from me, I, in turn, accept the role you seek to bestow upon me.”
“I accept.” The flame that flared was the largest yet. “I recognize Beatrice, Duchess of Osborn, as myvera amoris.” The flames on both their torches roared higher. “Our nuptials were rather rushed, and even now we are behind the times. There are words our people speak when they pledge their hearts before the sleuth, much as the humans do. But I had no sleuth, then, or would not admit to one.” A gentle wave of laughter swelled around the circle. “Someone wise once said that we are only as content as our unhappiest heart”—Beatrice heard Charlotte squeal—“and had I known it was mine, I would have denied it. And yet it was. My heart had broken many years ago, and I had done nothing to mend it. Little did I know it was not a job for one, but for two, for five, for tens of those willing to open their own hearts and let me in.
“But there is one whose care I will place it in forever, as myvera amorisand my mate, my confidante, who I shall argue with and grumble at and dig my heels against—and entrust with your hearts as well. I entrust her with your well-being and your peace of mind, and I entrust her with the future of Arcadia. As Alpha, I appoint Beatrice, Duchess of Osborn, as my Second, the Beta of this sleuth.”
“I accept.” She turned to Ben, who had joined them; both lit his torch with theirs. “As to my Alpha’s wishes, I invoke theinitiatioand appoint Garben Humphries, Lord Swinburn, as Gamma.” They exchanged a smile as Ben, in turn, lit the torches held by sundry attendants, and soon the grove was full of light. Arthur took his and her torch, and with a boy’s glee, chucked them into the fire.
Beatrice turned to Arthur. “Your Grace.” He grimaced, and she laughed. “Osborn?” He shook his head. “Alpha.” She reached out and laid her hand on his heart. “Arthur, it is my duty and my joy to bid you fully open thesentioof the Osborn sleuth.”
Ursella ran up, and Arthur swept her into his arms. “You are not of an age, Ursella, to fully take on your role in assisting me,” he began.
“If I may.” O’Mara, Lowell’s Omega, stepped forward. Ursella reached out to clutch at a lapel of the Irishwoman’s swan-tailed morning coat and was gifted with one of O’Mara’s rare smiles. “It is never beyond an Omega’s powers to serve her clan as she wishes and, indeed, as she must,” she said, “but it is the privilege of one like her to lend her aid.”
***
In the end, it was the work of a moment and required more effort to keep the connection closed than allow it to open. Arthur looked down at his wife, his mate, his duchess; at his niece, their Omega; at O’Mara who supplied just enough support to allow Ursella ease. He laid his hand over the tops of theirs and—let go.
The limited experiences he’d previously had with the link were nothing as it opened and he was flooded with the heartbeats of his people.How lucky it is that I am so large, he thought, and his bear, content to observe quietly until that moment, roared with gusto. The power of thesentiowas enough to knock him back on his heels; through it flowed a colossal wave of love and—yes—affiliation, cordial and more.
The sleuth took a breath as one, released it as one, and as the sun rose, it rose to their unity and celebration.
And then it became a party. Mrs. Porter and the mice and the kitchen footmen had ferried food and drink to share out among the sleuth and their guests. It was Arthur’s pleasure to serve his mate and hers to serve their people.
They separated and each took a side of the grove through which to circulate; Arthur did not think it was by chance his contained a crowned head of state.
“A human female as Beta. This is unknown in our lineage,” Georgie pronounced. “I shall take full credit.”
“Rest assured, the first child of our union,” Arthur said, “will not be named after you.”
“Cousin, how unkind.” His Royal Highness pouted into his champagne.
“Truly, Osborn, how thoughtless you are,” Lowell said.
“You may make up for it yourself, I suspect,” Arthur quipped and left a blushing duke the prey of an inquisitive prince.
He came upon his mate (mate!crooned his bear) in conference with what was likely to become an unholy alliance between herself, Lowell’s duchess, Charlotte, and the Barrington female. “‘When shall ye four meet again?’” he paraphrased.
“Artie!” Charlotte dug a knuckle under his sash right up into his ribs.
“I adore the Scottish play.” Miss Barrington beamed, even as she moved off to intercept Llewelyn—and where had he come from? Something needed to be done about that duke. His history was horrific, and all due respect he even survived it, but who knew what he might get up to, and as for setting a human as his keeper—
“Is she able for him?”
Beatrice looked after Tabitha, but it was Her Grace of Lowell who spoke up. “Surely you have learned your lesson about underestimating the female of the species?” She swanned off, and Beatrice giggled.
“I underestimate human females least of all species,” he called after her and soon found himself drawn away with his wife. “But honestly, his is a fearsome case.”
“It was Georgie’s wish.” Beatrice took his empty glass and handed it to a footman. “He is doing rather well in matching human women and maleversipelles.”
“He is not taking credit for Lowell, is he?”
“Felicity said he claims his lack of intervention was intentional.” Beatrice was steering toward home, but he stopped them at the opening of the path that led there.
“Is there another ritual to observe?” Beatrice looked over her shoulder at the bonfire and laughed.
