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Beatrice, stripped down to her shirt sleeves and wearing a pair of breeches that hugged every one of her curves, was dancing across the floor, a light fencing sword in hand, while the little beta Hero valiantly tried to keep up.
My body stiffened when Hero made a wild swing, opening herself up, but Beatrice was so surprised that the younger woman managed to touch my omega with the buttoned tip of her sword.
“Touch,” I called out, causing both heads to turn towards me. “Now… Now, Miss Hartwell,” I purred. “You will permit me to show Hero what she did wrong.”
Her face was red from the exertion, a healthy glow, and wisps of hair curling about her face. She touched sleave to her forehead and sucked in a long breath, which caused her breasts to stretch the soft, damp cloth of her shirt. “I do not need your help. Hero knows she did something wild. No harm…”
“Then shall I show you what you could have done to prevent yourself from getting killed?”
“T’would have been but a scratch, Jack, as well you know.”
“You are testy today, my dear Vixen.” Pax followed me into the room.
“Leave, Lord Paxton, while I’m still in a forgiving mood!” She snapped. She crossed to Hero and began showing her the move that would have accomplished the same end without exposing her guard. It did nothing to calm my raging need to possess my mate, whose scent was rich and pure roses. Instead, I settled to watch her instruct the school girl. If anything, her competence increased my need ten fold. This omega! Goddess help me but was there anything she could do to calm the fire in my blood? “Now, Hero, next time—“
Pax moved next to me, our shoulders touching. Since that first night, when we had fucked our hands to completion, every time he was near, I wanted more. My dreams featured them in explicit detail.
“Miss Hartwell.” Pax motioned to her. “Your sister claimed, on our first meeting, that you could best me in pistols or in the duello… Yet if I asked, I am sure you would turn down the opportunity to cross swords with me.” Paxton smiled.
I bit my lip because I could hear her thoughts with such clarity.Oh, I want to throttle Viola for making such a boast. How was I a short and round omega to compete against an alpha so tall, so physically impressive. He’d have his blade through my heart in a blink of the eye, said her eyes as she charged towards us.
“Viola over states my prowess,” she ground out the words.
“Very diplomatic. You’ve a quick wrist, Trix,” I said. “It’s the simple truth. Both that and the fact his reach is longer. Benedict, dear Benedict, do not challenge her. Your victory is a sure bet and what joy is there in knowing—” I cursed when I felt my mate stamp on my foot. No boot could withstand the viciousness of her short heel coming down hard on my instep.
“I’d like to see you cross swords with Colonel Fordom.” Hero blushed the moment her words left her mouth. “I imagine you—“
“I would be pleased to cross swords with Colonel Fordom whenever you desire, but first I have a meeting with this Vixen.”
My eyes remained on her throughout. I needed her under me, between me and Pax. Her everything was mine and his. For the one without the other was unconscionable.
“I’m too tired to dance with you, my lord,” she sighed, and I well believed it. Not only were her breaths coming in shallow, but she was favouring her left leg. The impulse to loom over her and demand she tell me how she’d come to injure herself had to be rigorously stamped down. Yet, the thought of letting this opportunity to best her in something rode me hard. My need to dominate, making me wild.
“But…” she twisted her back, unconsciously pressing her breasts out, which did nothing to soothe my desire. “Perhaps pistols?”
“Yes! Please. You did promise to teach me how to shoot!” Hero tugged at Beatrice’s sleeve.
I met Beatrice’s eye, knowingly telegraphing my surprise at how outgoing the quiet beta was. Her lips twitched. I knew her joy was not for me, for the golden girl who looked at her with such adoration.
“Please, Bea!”
With a small shake of her head, my mate went a table and drew a longe box towards her. She raised the lid to reveal a pair of duelling pistols, as deadly as they were beautiful. Even without holding them, I could see how excellent the craftsmanship was.
“May I?” I asked. She stepped aside to let me inspect them. ”Wogdon & Barton. They are very fine. Set triggers?”
“Yes.”
“I admit to envy.”
“Wait until you shoot them.” She grinned for me alone, but it fell away when she realised how easy and familiar her words were. “I must do a demonstration.”
While we had been talking, Pax had set up the target, which looked more suited to archery practice, some twenty paces from where we stood. Pax moved to my side. The press of his lips could mean anything, but I suspected he want to hold back some remark or other. I patted his should and said in an under breath. “Wise man. Wouldn’t want her attention when she has a loaded gun to hand.”
Beatrice took her stance, just as I’d taught, and raised her arm. A breath. Then the centre of the target was obliterated. Almost too fast to see, she grabbed the other loaded pistol and aimed again, this went a hairsbreadth wide of her first shot. “Damn. I should not have missed.”
“Who taught you?” Pax snapped. “You are too good a shot.”
“Colonel Fordom,” she huffed. “The man standing next to you.”
