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Beatrice
I preferredto stand and fight, but with my heat on me and an unknown number of alphas on my heels, I knew running was my only option. I was no athlete, never had been. My unfit body betrayed me with every frantic step I took, and my lungs burnt as I struggled to pull in my next breath.
“Omega!” an alpha barked behind me. The dominant sound ricocheted about my body. He sought to control me by using one of those defining characteristic of an alpha. More fool him. I was Beatrice Jane Hartwell, and I was no one’s meek and mild omega. Oh Goddess, but it rankled to flee rather than tell this pompous ass that he and his whole dynamic were pathetic fools for believing alphas so superior to omegas or betas because of their bark. My steps faltered as I remembered knots, the underlying physiology of male alphas, and how divine one might feel lodged deep inside of me. My heat ravaged body wavered. A knot would be good. A knot would soothe my cramps. But ten years ago submitting to my body’s desires had ruined my chances at a happiness. I knew better than to listen to the siren call of a knot.
Throwing away pride and running was preferable to staying and chancing my resolve against the intrinsic power an alpha had over an omega lost to the sexual needs of her heat.
Too focused on escaping the room full of alphas, I’d paid scant attention to where I ran. Just get away. Stupid heat. Stupid heat for coming on while I was in the middle of proving to those officious, spiteful, snobbish pieces of alpha arrogance that my paintings deserved to be presented at the Royal Academy’s annual Exhibition. Curse everyone. Them, me, but most especially the curse of being an omega in heat. And why? What had triggered my heat when I wasn’t due for another fortnight? Which alpha’s pheromones had appealed to my omega? Was the mate who’d rejected me somewhere amongst them? Fear he was in the same building spurred me on.
I would not let an alpha catch me. Especially not that alpha.
At the next left, I saw an unassuming door and pushed through, closing it as softly as possible behind me. What I’d assumed was a small closet in which to hide myself was instead an antechamber with two doors, one on either side. The left-hand door had a keyhole, but after kneeling and looking through the lock, I discovered there was no key. Worse still, the door was locked. A quick examination showed the other was the same. Keyhole, no key, and locked. My luck, if I’d had any, had run out.
Which left one unfortunate recourse to my predicament. I patted at my coat and felt for my pistol. There. Exactly where I kept it for safekeeping. Digging the small gun out of my pocket, I loaded it and pointed it at the door, prepared to shoot dead whichever alpha had followed me. ‘Twas a beautiful piece presented to me by my mother after a regrettable incident in Hyde Park—another surprise heat. My heats could be irregular and liable to start in the most public of places, so my pistol provided a level of protection most omegas lacked.
“Omega!” The alpha was closer and no calmer or more subtle than he had been when he first commanded I stop.
My heart threatened to burst from my chest. And then, dammit, cramps—the horrid and unavoidable symptom of a heat—caused me to stagger forward. Those during my monthly cycle forced me to take to my bed, but they were nothing compared to these. I gritted my teeth through the pain. I’d not let my body make me vulnerable again.
Then the Goddess dealt me another blow. The door ahead of me burst open and there on the threshold stood the tallest alpha I’d ever encountered, but not the largest. He was not bulky but built along leaner—still powerful—lines. An alpha of cold silver, from the grey hair on his head to the pale grey eyes, and then the expensive silver velvet of his coat. Goddess, but he stole my breath away.
He froze as he took me in, and his nostrils flared as he scented the room.
“Omega…” His low rumble drew an instinctive, answering whimper.
“I’ll shoot.” My voice cracked on the word but my arm, thank Goddess, held steady. “Take one step closer, and I’ll shoot.”
“I am taking a step closer. Do not shoot.” The alpha took a determined step towards me.
“I—” My body folded in on itself as a fresh wave of cramps gripped my womb, which seemed haunted by some avenging spirit concerned only with torturing me and ripping me apart from the inside out.
“Stay back!” I begged. Clutching at my hair with my free hand and pulling until the pain overwhelmed my every sense, I looked up at him. So piteous and pathetic. How I hated being made weak by my own biology.
“No.” Even as he prowled towards me, snarling, I appreciated the artistry of his form. I gazed on his features, trying to commit each detail to memory. Perhaps I might use him for a model when I paintedThe Temptation of Eve by the Serpent. For certain he was no snake, though perhaps he had one underneath his clothes. I giggled a little hysterically at the direction my thoughts had turned.
“Omega, I do not know what you think you are doing, but I do not approve. Wandering around on your own? There areconsequences.” He all but purred the words as if taking pleasure in the prospect of whatever consequences he estimated I must face. “Running around barefoot and at the start of your heat is dangerous.”
“Barefoot?” I asked and wiggled my toes. Looking down, I realised he was correct. I stood on the cold marble in nothing but silk stockings.
“It feels lovely. Shall I take my stockings off?” I smiled at him absently. I must be deep in my heat if my thoughts wandered so far from my purpose.
“Omega,” he growled, causing a delicious shiver to shoot through my body.
My free hand travelled to my mating gland, which pulsed with anticipation. This mystery alpha would bite me, mate me. Oh, he radiated the alpha strength that appealed to omegas. That powerful, dominating darkness we craved. The kind memorialised in Gothic novels. In reality, alphas with this kind of instinctual power terrified me. I understood better than most what it meant to be near an alpha who caused my pulse to throb and my core to clench. One such alpha had taken everything I had to give—had given freely—only to crush my heart and dreams without a word. Abandoned, as if I meant nothing to him.
This day I’d put my pride aside and run rather than risk a heat with an alpha who had the same power over my omega.
“I would be grateful if you escorted me to my carriage,” I said, proud that my voice sounded husky instead of desperate. Better for him to believe I was seducing him, luring him to my nest, than that I wanted him to fuck me in this hallway. “There is no nest here.” I added unnecessarily.
“First, I’d like you to put down the gun,” he purred.
“Oh. I forgot.” I looked at the pistol that was still levelled at his heart. My body rebelled against my resolve to repel him by the force of a bullet. If it came to that… I prayed it didn’t come to that, for I’d never shot someone before. If I killed him, what then? “Don’t come closer! I’ll shoot.”
“I shall come closer. Do. Not. Shoot.” His growl caressed my body, my nipples ached, and my breasts felt heavy.This is an alpha, my omega crooned.He could give us what we needed. A knot. He would have a knot to remember. I struggled to push the thought of knots away. What should I, an apparently innocent spinster omega, know of knots? I’d hidden my shame from the world for ten years. The sham must be preserved at all costs.
“I will shoot,” I warned him. “I’m a terribly good shot… And you are awfully close. No need to aim to hit some vital organ.”
“You’ve a single bullet, little one.”
