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Viola
It.Was. All. Too. Much.
I maintained a carefree bearing until I made it to the safety of my bedroom, where at last I could confront my reaction to the duke while wearing my own clothes. He’d scented me as Viola, and I had melted like butter, feeling more like an omega than ever before. Rejoicing that an alpha as great as the Duke of Orley had responded to my scent.
Not for the first time, it struck me how dangerous an alpha like the Duke of Orley could be to an inexperienced omega like myself. Tall, broad, strong, unrelentingly attractive. Hair like honey washed throughout with red sheen. Intelligent eyes that flashed beneath heavy brows giving him the look of a perpetual scowl, even when he was amused or pleased by something I had said. He possessed an unfashionably firm jaw with full lips, though you wouldn’t know it for how frequently he pressed them together in annoyance. He thought his broken nose ugly, but to me it revealed a dangerous element. That twisted nose manifested his primal and feral strength. His every look and word demonstrated that he could master anyone, omega, beta, or alpha, and come away the winner. And then I had to contend with how his scent thickened when his temper sparked and he put out more of that alpha musk. I covered my face with cold hands in hopes of calming the heat that suffused my body.
I dreaded facing my physical reaction to the duke. The cloths folded with sawdust that unmated omegas wore to absorb unexpected slick were nearly soaked. Yet the duke had not reacted as most alphas might. His self-control was nearly as intoxicating as the rough sound of his voice. I threw the cloths away for the maids to deal with as if removing them from my sight would banish the shame of reacting so strongly to an alpha. It had not been the same at the club, or even the first time we had met. I could only conclude that his reaction to my real scent had triggered such an embarrassing rush of slick. His own scent had become heavy with arousal, and as I’d left I’d seen how his erection had pressed against his breeches. My fingers traced along my breasts, down my stomach to press against my exposed sex. I snatched them away at the final moment before I gave in to my temptation to touch.
“It is not your fault,” I told myself. He was, after all, an alpha responding to the traces of my scent on the dress, the muted smell of slick that had flooded between my thighs. Any unmated omega would cause an alpha to release a strong scent of his own seeking out a receptive home for his knot. There was no blame on either side. We were trapped by our natures. Nothing was more natural, and yet I recoiled from my own body’s response. Could I really have felt desire for him? An alpha who’d ordered me to ferret out information on the woman he intended to marry. As if a duke’s secretary shouldn’t be focused on writing letters and conducting business for the duchy. Then I’d been so bold as to suggest I woo her in his place. He wished to marry another omega, I reminded myself. Not me, another.
My body betrayed me at the memory of his cock and fresh slick gathered between my thighs. That alpha scent so much richer than any I’d experienced before. Like sun-warmed leather and cloves, playing my every nerve raw. Not knowing whether I wished to stay in touching distance or run, had me hanging upon his words and slipping out of the guise of Iris and back to Viola. Young, naive, and for the first time alone with an alpha I was not related to. While I had learnt how to be an alpha amongst alphas, learnt the way they behaved, I had no good knowledge of how omegas should behave with alphas. Was the rush of slick normal when in such near proximity? Should I perhaps end my plan? My fears battered at my resolve. I reached for pen and paper to write a letter to my mother seeking her advice. Yet I could not find the words. Mama was loving and kind. She would urge me to be honest and not play about like this when I could instead be straightforward. She would tell me to appeal to the duke, to put forward arguments to convince him of my position without once putting me in danger.
But Mama, an alpha, would not understand.
I wish I had spoken with my sisters about being an omega around alphas they were not related to. For now, I knew the depth of my ignorance. How was I to temper my response when an alpha looked at me the way the duke had been staring at me? Was there some trick? Beatrice would know. She was the oldest, eight and twenty. She had been out in society, danced and supped and flirted with alphas before claiming she had no interest in marriage or mating. Her knowledge would be invaluable. But she was in Paris with our Mama. My shoulders slumped. How had I forgotten that Mama was no longer in the country?
One thing though was as plain as the nose on my face. I would not dress as an omega around the duke. If he responded so strongly to a whiff of my true scent when I was wearing fresh clothes, then what would it be like if... It didn’t bear thinking of. Dammit.
You liked it though. You liked when he looked at you with hunger, my traitorous heart taunted.You liked the desire reflected in his eyes.
How could I not? He was the first person, male or female, alpha or beta or omega, who had looked at Viola with desire.
I shoved the thoughts aside. Something would have to be done, but first I needed to change out of Iris’ clothes. I regretted leaving my favourite dress with the duke, but I could not trust my omega instincts that wanted to hoard the dress that would have carried the virile alpha’s scent. What if I had attempted to build a nest around the smell? I could have found myself in dangerous waters… No, I would not think on it. I changed quickly into my own things, hoping that skirts would help me return more to myself. I could get some writing done, I decided. Clear my head a bit.
* * *
An hour later I came down the stairs to find my uncle’s butler hovering.
“A visitor for you, Miss. A Mrs Markham.”
“Oh!” My hand fluttered near my mouth. Would she be able to tell the difference between me in my dress and how I had appeared to her the other day? Or would my disguise prove weak against a woman as watchful as she? “Is she... Has she been waiting long?”
“Just arrived. I ordered tea,” he smiled.
“Thank you. I am not sure if I would have remembered that,” I admitted. It struck me that I’d never received guests on my own.
“Go in, Miss Viola. She is not so frightening.”
I had to laugh at that. How could I be afraid of Mrs Markham when I had spent two evenings surrounded by alphas? When I’d spent every day for near three weeks with an alpha I lusted for? I straightened my shoulders. If I could be an alpha amongst alphas, I could be an omega with another omega.
“Mrs Markham, I am sorry for keeping you waiting,” I smiled and dropped a slight curtsy. “I am afraid my aunt is out and cannot be here to greet you.”
“Worry not, child. It was you I wished to speak with. Your sister Beatrice is a friend of sorts. I have wanted to meet you alone for quite some time. And to see up close if your eyes are as striking as she has claimed. They are. Quite remarkable, my dear. Quite remarkable.”
“My eyes!” I laughed at the absurdity. “Would anything about my appearance beremarkableif not for my violet eyes? Forgive me! I am all mirth and no...”
“I know Beatrice well enough to expect, nay, hope that you are as singular as she. Come forward. Let me see you better. I admit my first visit… I had my reasons.”
My eyebrows jumped that she spoke with an open intimacy, going so far as to imply her behaviour that first time we met was an act—though to what end, I did not know. I walked towards her and knew we were assessing the other. Before me stood a middle-aged woman, whose beauty had faded attractively. She carried herself with an omega’s grace and floated rather than walked, which when paired with her sharp, direct eyes made her something out of the ordinary—she was dashing. Alphas would look twice at her on the street, but something more compelling than beauty held my attention. What she saw in me, I was less sure of. Surely not much beauty—at least not the type that most omegas dreamt of. Now that we were alone I saw her for who she was: she presented as a typical, flighty omega, but it was an artifice. Now in a more private setting, she was plain speaking. I saw how she and Beatrice could be friends. Regardless of these duelling personas, my impression that she was crafty proved accurate. She as good as proved it by coming here knowing my aunt was out. And then there was the business of announcing she knew Beatrice, was on familiar terms with her.
“You pulled off the act quite well,” she murmured so low that I almost did not catch her words.
Denial was all that I could do.
“No, child. Fear not. I am sure you have your reasons to dress as an alpha—pretend to be your sister Iris. But it is a dangerous game. Especially if you are living here where people will visit and know you. Though you are not out…”
“I am aware of the risks,” I told her, not quite believing that she believed me. “My reasons are noble. Unlike you, who wishes to match Orley with Lady Clare despite knowing her intentions never to remarry.”
