"What?" I asked, straightening and glancing up the length of the castle to my tower.

"Maids said they left her working on the nest. It was a good dinner, by the way, better than Cook usually bothers with," Niall mentioned. I glared at him. "Are you going up?" Niall's voice was carefully neutral.

I ought to have said no. To pump Niall for information about Millward—how we might advance him, curry his favor.

"Anything that can't wait?" I asked instead.

"Nothing I can't start on by myself," Niall answered, a half-smile on his lips.

I nodded. "Then I'm going up." I paused and stared at Niall, who studied me with his usual calm. "You're the only one who hasn't asked why I did it."

"I know why you did it," Niall said, lips curving higher at the corners.

I grimaced and rolled my eyes, turning away. He would make me ask, force me to admit that even I didn't know. Having a brother who knew me so well was irksome.

My wings stroked through the air, and Niall laughed.

"You did it because she would've been miserable. And you're not your father," Niall called to me as I flew.

I dropped briefly, startled by the mention of our father, confused too, but there was a soft glow coming from the tower and a much more pleasant goal ahead of me. I swept my wings into action again, bracing against the evening chill, eager to return to the warmth of the nest. And to discover what Mairwen was up to, if she'd skipped dinner.

I twisted around the castle and climbed over the parapet of the balcony to my nest, pausing and staring through the glass for a moment. Mairwen's nest had improved, taller than before, with thicker layers of sheets, although still a bit small for when my dragon took over. Most of the candles were put out, and I wondered if she'd done that herself, if she was trying to hide my view of her when I went "exploring." Luckily, dragons had very good night vision. Then again, it wouldn't hurt to light a few more and offer myself the best possible view.

The door creaked as I opened it, no other hint of sound in the room, no rustling sheets or fussing omega. Was she not here in the nest, either? I frowned, hunting for her perfume in the air, and only finding the remains from the night before. But Mairwen's perfume was shy, and there was a little flicker of light from inside the nest worth investigating. I rounded the draped walls, unbuckling and shedding my clothes, pausing on the opposite side of the large construction at the picture I found.

Mairwen was asleep. She'd pushed the curtained walls of the nest she'd built aside and propped them open by pinning them under large books. She lay splayed across the sheets, still dressed, surrounded by open tomes, lips slightly parted as her chest rose and fell with slow breaths.

The ache in my back faded as my shoulders settled, hands unclenching from the waistband of my trousers, the corners of my mouth quirking at the sight of my exhausted omega. She'd made me a nest of books.

As quietly as I could, I kicked off my shoes and then left my trousers behind on the floor, tiptoeing closer to the bed, tilting my head and squinting into the shadows. Her cheek was resting on a page, littered with the most miniscule script, and a few sketched illustrations of…

I stopped, casting a shadow over Mairwen and the sheets and her collection of books on architecture. I glanced at one, open and slightly crushed under her knee, a familiar text I'd been force-fed as a young man: A History of Dragonkin. I stepped closer, bumping my toes into more pages, and leaned down, lifting up another text regarding the nesting habits of omegas that had slipped from the bed. I smoothed my fingers over the slightly creased pages and then silently shut the book, resting it on a stack Mairwen had built on the floor, more titles to prove the sweet and strangely vulnerable fact that this young woman had spent the evening researching how to be…mine.

I swallowed hard and, one by one, lifted and closed and stacked the books Mairwen had left abandoned on the bed after falling to sleep, until the last of them was the one she remained resting on. Mairwen stirred as I pulled the book out from under her cheek, and my gaze fixed to her face as she blinked and startled, stiffening as she found me towering over her.

"You're back," she said, voice thick and cracking with sleep.

"I am. Stand for a moment. Don't sleep in your dress," I said. I like to feel your shape when I hold you.

Mairwen blushed as she sat up, her stare snagging on the stack of books I'd arranged for her. "I've been thinking…"

About building me nests? About dragonkin and being an omega? I wondered.

"I shouldn't have encouraged Francesca to leave the island, or for you to help her," Mairwen said instead.

"Why not?" I asked, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face the bed. She ought to have a maid to do this job for her, but I liked to be alone with this woman. And I didn't really want anyone else undressing her, no matter how absurd that was.

"The betas are angry, aren't they?" she asked, but didn't wait for me to respond before continuing, "And we know there's already animosity against you. More than that, actual conspiracy! And I suppose giving…giving omegas the right to refuse gentlemen in this way will upset them, won't it?"

"It will."

Mairwen lifted her arms with just a slight tug of her dress on my part. "Which will probably give Gamesby new fuel for plotting against you."

"Perhaps."

Mairwen sighed, and I wondered if it was because I was unlacing her stays, freeing her breasts from their trap, or the conversation. Probably the latter. I was the one fixated on her breasts, not her.

"I'm sorry, Ronson."

I blinked, ran through the words we'd spoken—mostly her—and shook my head. Pay attention.

"Do you think omegas shouldn't have the right to refuse?" I asked instead.

Mairwen stiffened, breath stilling, and didn't so much as twitch when my fingers brushed against her chest as I nudged her stays down her arms and to the floor.

"I…I think it would be better," she whispered, turning to meet my eyes. "Do you?"

Did I? I'd certainly considered the women of the island better off without my father. I'd hated the idea of Mairwen trapped with a man like Gryffyd Evans. Had I followed the reasoning this far before now, or had I remained stuck in the loop of my own concerns, of the social structure I was raised in?

"I'm glad you were there today to convince that young woman to speak the truth for herself," I said.

Mairwen gasped as I bent and hauled her up into my arms, climbing onto the mattress with her cradled against my chest.

"You're glad?"

I choked around the groan that wanted to rise in my throat when Mairwen's perfume bloomed. We fell clumsily into the mattress, and I wasted no time burying my face into her throat, soaking up that scent after too many hours of withdrawal.

"Do you wish you'd had the right of refusal?" I asked. I should've given her space to think through the questions, but my hands were hunting for their favorite pieces of her to grip and hold.

"I suppose, but it wouldn't have made a difference," Mairwen said.

My gut turned to sludge, and I granted myself one last deep breath of her before rolling onto my wings. "Because you can't refuse the alpha?"

"Hm? Oh, not you. I was thinking that even if I was able to refuse Gryffyd, my father needed the money he was given for me too much," Mairwen said with a careless wave of her hand that dropped a crushing weight onto my chest. "I ought to thank Adelaide for how it turned out. And you, of course," she added in a rush, blushing.