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PAX
I waitedoutside the drawing room door—the sounds of my mates muffled through the heavy wood—a heavy, oblong box under my arm. I’d followed Dixon’s advice and now needed to give Beatrice my offering on bended knee.
Meeker had mentioned that my mother-in-law had visited, that there had been raised voices, and that my mate had walked up and down the street fourteen times before returning to the house. “Don’t be letting her know I told you. Promised I wouldn’t. Hate to be breaking a promise to a lady, but, with what happened, she deserves that she be given a hug…”
It was easy to guess what had brought them together. Beatrice had learnt the truth. She now knew Jack had been threatened with an accusation of rape. A break in that family which for so long had a reputation for liberal morals. A mercenary alpha mother would unsettle any omega whose instincts were to find the warmest and safest mates for their offspring. Instead, Beatrice’s father had done the opposite. He must have known his mate was wrong.
I frowned at the hall table, which was a chaotic jumble of objet de art my father had bought for mother on a trip to Paris over two decades ago. Such things were made for omegas, so they might decorate their homes—just the sort of thing Dixon had told me to buy. I kept it from sentimentality rather than any real desire to look at such an ugly piece. My mother would not have picked Beatrice for me. She’d have seen her as too unpredictable for a happy home life. After her death, my sisters had begun to grow wild without her soothing presence. Perhaps they’d always been that way. I’d never know.
“Pax!”
I looked up, quickly putting a smile on my face, in time to see them leave the drawing room. They smelt of sex, and my cock responded. How could it not? A day away from them, and all my being longed to fuck them, cover them with my scent, that they, that all would know they were mine.
“Hello, omega.” I held out a hand, and she tucked herself against my body, a soft purr almost as if she wanted to soothe me.
“Alpha…”
“Did you have a nice time with Jack? Did he fill you up? Make you come so hard you thought you were going to meet the Goddess because you would die from the pleasure? Tell me.”
Their scents, already thick with arousal, deepened. I caught Jack’s eye. Did she wish to rest? Talk about what troubled her, because her red eyes told me she’d been crying. Or should we distract her? A barely perceptible nod from Jack told me distraction was what was wanted.
“Yes, alpha. He filled me up.” Her hand travelled down my chest to play with the fastening of my breeches.
“You’ll sleep in your nest?” I asked.
“Yes. Of course! Where else would I sleep?”
“And we are not welcome?” I played a dangerous game. “If we want to keep you between us all night long…”
“I… I want to fall asleep on my own.” But her eyes betrayed her. She softened to the idea of us being near. The idea that her mates could hold her while she slept and kept the nightmares at bay. How many nights had one of us snuck in to soothe her while memories of Stimpson haunted her? To leave before dawn so that she did not know we had been there? “If I woke up, and you were there, I would be a very happy omega. I would like that very much.”
My being became light, and I wanted to admit I understood her reservations. Jack and I shared a bed. The first time I’d slept next to a lover for any number of consecutive nights. At first it had been strange, the feel of the same strong body next to mine. But now I wondered if I would ever be capable of sleeping on my own again. I growled. An alpha, however attached to their mate, should not be made weak by the absence of them. Obsessive for their safety, yes. Needing to be with them every moment of the day not out of a need to possess but from a desire to experience each new expression, to hear thoughts and feelings on the great subjects of the day? Even amongst beta couples, that closeness was rare in our social class. “I have something for you. Though—”
“Gift? For me?” She grinned like a girl, hands reached out. “It feels like Solstice.”
“Shall we go to the bedroom?” I asked, suddenly conscious we were on the landing.
She pouted, narrowed her eyes, and then took off up the stairs, leaving me and Jack to follow at a slower pace.
She could no longer complain that the bedroom lacked scents. Not just of slick and sex, but the everyday presence of our scents mingling in the air even when the windows were cracked to let in a soft summer’s breeze.
We found her letting her hair down, fingers running through the curls.
“I thought we might get comfortable first,” she said as she continued to remove her dishevelled clothes. Down to her chemise, she climbed on to the bed and patted the spot next to her which Jack took. I was left standing, awkward and unsure how to choreograph the next move.
“Come here,” I commanded.
She hesitated, tongue licking her lips, and nodded. “If you insist.”
“He does.” Jack lounged against the pillows. “He likes to be a little more formal when he presents his presents. And then I have something for you.”
“You didn’t tell me.” I narrowed my eyes at the crafty soldier.
“I’m a canny Scot.” He shrugged.
She laughed. “Goddess, but the two of you drive me mad. Am I soon to be turned into a pattern card omega who sits pretty at home while her alphas shower her with gifts?”
“If pattern card omegas receive pistols from their mates, then it is the first time I am hearing of this.”
