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“Thought you should know before they burst in here to save you. It didn’t mean anything.” She hastened to add. “We weren’t lovers. They were lovers who took a beta between them some nights. Plain as the nose on your face, they wanted each other. Stupid society alphas not listening… Uh, this is probably not want you want to hear.”
“Correct. I’m not particularly curious about my mates’ past lovers.” I snarled, liking this woman less by the minute.
“Now don’t forget to tie your garters in your haste to make judgements. We were not lovers. Polly is my lover.”
“Polly? I thought you were monosexual?”
“Goddess, no! Not that there is anything wrong with being interested in only men or only women.”
“Puck is my lover too. Lover is never a good word to describe sex that lacks any intimacy. We fucked. They were good to me, made sure I came. But anyone they took. Men, women… They were all placeholders for you. The two of them closed their legs like virgin nuns after meeting you.”
“Beautiful place holders.”
Sarah laughed, oh how she laughed as if I’d made a joke to remember generations from now. “My Lady, if you think the men and women they took beautiful, they will be grateful. Are you going to hold their lovers against them?”
“I… I am jealous. I always will be. But I had betas during my heats.”
“Goddess! That was kept quiet. I normally know all the society omegas with beta lovers.” Her big eyes sparkled. “Who was the beta? No. I won’t press. Bet the jewels My Lord Chesterfield gave me that they were furious when they learnt! Do you know that Danny’s heart was near broken when they rejected him? Why—”
“Stop!” I laughed despite myself. “No. Thank you. I don’t want any more secrets about them.”
“A past is a past for a reason. But… You are smiling now. Took your mind off things for a moment, didn’t I? Not that I like being here.” She shifted on her stool, rubbing her hands on her arms. She looked so much smaller now and I wondered how old she was. My age or perhaps a little younger? But something in her manner had my heart thawing, provoking my omega instinct to comfort her.
I took her hand in mine. She needed as much comfort as I in this dank room that smelt of spilled beer and sweat. Hers was a little hand, long fingered and freckled. There was a small ring on her thumb made of stone—though I did not know what kind with its milky green colour. The pads of her fingers were rough, the nails cut close, but dirt still caught underneath. What a different life this hand had lived. The harshest conditions mine had known were the cold, dry air of winter. These hands had known work which no amount of creams or soaks could magic away. Jack’s were the same. Not just the calluses of a soldier but beneath those older ones from when he’d worked in his father’s shop. Goddess! I had not written to them asking them to come to the Blessing or begging them to let us visit them at the Solstice.
I played with the ring on her finger, turning her hand around to trace the lines on her palm, which bore the same signs of work. When she saw me looking, she pulled her hand away, tucking it in her skirts. “There is no need to be ashamed—”
“Please.” She shook her head. “I am not.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. I’d not meant to offend her, but I had. Simply by… In examining her hand, noting the differences, I’d reminded her, myself, of the distance between our estates.
“May I ask a boon?” She asked. “A kiss. I’ve a mind to collect a kiss from each Hartwell. I shall be the only one to have tasted all of you.”
I blinked at the woman and only saw sincerity in her face. “Which of my—”
“Viola. I kissed her in front of her duke before she knew who he was.” she smiled at the memory. “About that kiss…”
“You mean it? You want to kiss me? Won’t Polly mind?”
“It is just a kiss.” She looked wistful, as if a kiss from me would draw out the poison of loneliness that seemed to hang about her now.
I tipped my face towards her but held still that she might press her lips against mine.
Kisses can be many things. There might be a list of kisses, a ranking. While Jack had been transported by the kiss shared by the Mountview Pack. Beatrice became a different person the moment Sarah kissed her. It was chaste, barely a kiss at first. But both were afraid, even if they hadn’t given voice to that fear. And like many, when hope was lost, they turned to each other for comfort. Just the press of lips. Touch. The least considered sense, the one often forgotten in a world where scents dominated. Or in Beatrice’s case, sight. Touch. The sense taken for granted for it is hardest to take away. Their lips touched. Their humanity reaffirmed in this dark hellscape where two women, both capable and brave, now depended on a handful of alphas to rescue them.
Beatrice could not forget such a kiss. She was not meant to.
