I don't mind. I like him, actually. The words had caused a sensation in my chest that reminded me of flying, and behind the safety of the door, I'd used my wings to hide the warmth that flooded my cheeks.

"You wouldn't take the first boat off the island if you could?" I asked, unable to keep from pressing the point, aware I might regret discovering Mairwen's limit to welcoming me.

Mairwen was quiet for a long time until I could resist the urge no longer and turned back onto my side, laying my wings out behind me, to watch her face shift.

"It's not very noble of me, I suppose, but Ronson, I think I prefer adventure in stories," Mairwen said, wearing a sheepish smile. "I did like flying, though! But sometimes I get queasy with a long carriage ride, and everything I've read in books says boats are much worse."

I laughed and Mairwen joined me, cheeks rounding and turning pink, her smile sweet as ripe fruit and equally tempting to consume.

"I meant what I said. I like the isle. I only want…" She trailed off, eyes shying and shuttering.

"Tell me." Tell me, so I can grant it.

"I want… Well, never mind. I'm working on it myself," she murmured, frowning up at the ceiling of the nest.

I thought of the stack of books beside the bed, of the way the other dragons spoke of Mairwen, spoke to her. I stretched my arm out in her direction. "Come here."

She startled and turned toward me, a flick of her pink tongue wetting her lips. I was jealous of the privilege. She scooted close enough for me to catch her and draw her against my chest.

"I forgot. Tonight."

She was tense and her perfume had faded. I stroked my hands over her sides, wrapped my arms around her back, and tucked her head under my chin. I'd left my drawers on, and she was still in her chemise. She'd looked a little tired today at the Huberts', and she'd fallen asleep while researching architecture, of all things.

"What do you say to…tomorrow morning?" I asked, rubbing my hand over her spine, smiling to myself as she softened against me.

"In the morning? I…I am tired."

"I am too," I said, shifting my hips away just enough for her to not be prodded with the physical interest that argued otherwise.

I didn't want Mairwen simply comfortable with me. I wanted her begging for me. But the former probably needed to come before the latter, in that case, and a good night's sleep together would be safer than helping myself to her body after a day of her worrying.

Mairwen's nose burrowed into my throat, and I held my breath as she brushed a shy kiss over my pulse.

Patience. It would be my mantra for as long as I could hold the rut at bay.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter ThirteenRONSON

“DeRoche is walking over," Niall muttered in my ear.

I grunted and stiffened, the indigo shadows of Alpha Seamus DeRoche's great wings blocking out the glare of sunlight from the corner of my eye and the lush, rolling green landscape of Grave Hills. He paused for a moment as if posing, and a damp breeze greeted him, blowing his long, dark hair in an irritatingly heroic manner.

"Cadogan! I wondered if we'd see you today," the roguish dragon called, reaching me and clapping his hand heartily against my shoulder. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't happy with the outcome for Torion."

"Not at all." I ran my tongue over my teeth, flexing my jaw to ease the tense clench. It was only being stolen from bed before the sun was up, stolen from Mairwen's soft curves and the promise we'd whispered the night before, that was putting me in a rotten mood.

But Torion had been my friend for decades, and I'd seen my own determined rise to alpha in his struggles against his father. I was glad for his sake. Even if I might've—absolutely—preferred to be in bed with my omega.

"It's your rut," Seamus DeRoche said with a nod. "Don't suppose you've finally taken your island in hand and stolen an omega out from under those betas running circles around you."

Another year, and I would've made a weak excuse to leave Seamus's irritating company. Today, I found myself smiling grimly.

He laughed, a boisterous sound, as if the man was in constant competition with the sound of thunder and waves. "About damn time. I'm surprised you bothered attending, in that case."

I shot Niall a glare from the side, and he rolled his eyes.

"I seriously considered abstaining," I admitted, and the memory of Mairwen's giving frame was far too easy to conjure and almost impossible to banish. I restrained my own groan.

"I look forward to meeting the chit," Seamus said. I snarled before I could contain the reaction, but thankfully, the man was determinedly amused and his laugh covered the inappropriate reaction.

"Are you waiting to get a word in with Torion?" I asked, turning back to the small milling crowd of dragons. I'd brought Niall with me, but the few other alphas of our region had brought entire parties of betas with them. Seamus's own crew of piratical-looking not-quite-gentlemen was drifting through the gathering, meeting women from Grave Hills, likely looking for bedpartners for the night. Not many omegas chose to take to the sea, and as far as I or my spies knew, DeRoche hadn't a single woman on his own boat.

I wonder if I ought to point Seamus in Francesca's direction, I thought, smirking. It would serve him right to deal with the contrary girl.

Seamus shrugged. "I only need to speak to him briefly, just to secure the usual trade agreements. But I like Torion. I want to congratulate him properly."

Seamus DeRoche held a unique position amongst dragonkin. While every alpha here maintained their own territory of land, Seamus's rule surrounded us all. He was the Alpha of the Craven Sea, a position claimed by a rogue dragon hundreds of years ago and regularly snatched up and stolen away. Not all betas were satisfied with their lot under the thumb of an alpha, and the Alpha of the Craven Sea was an opportunity for freedom, if you could defeat the man who'd come before you. My father had said it was a crown for the weak, for those who couldn't take the local title of alpha for themselves, but Seamus DeRoche had taken the mantle when my father was a young man and had held it ever since. His grip seemed unshakeable.

Seamus may not have had fields and farms and neighborhoods to command, but not one of us could set sail without his permission, and he held our trade routes in his fist. I respected the dragon, even if I found his cheerful humor tiresome. It was a mask that covered the steely beast beneath, I suspected.

"You're being patient for an alpha with an omega waiting on him," Seamus noted. "You're waiting for the others to leave?"

This was why he'd held his position for so long. He was more observant than his careless persona led some to believe. I respected Seamus DeRoche. Did I trust him?

"As you said, the betas of my isle are becoming…ambitious," I said, deciding that having him as an ally was worth the risk of hinting at what he likely already knew.

"It's about time you noticed, Cadogan," he murmured. "You'd better wait till Worthington leaves."

My eyebrows rose and I searched the crowd for Damian Worthington. He stood close to Torion, a pointed mark of support, but when I watched long enough I noticed an exchange between him and Francis Keane, a staunch beta supporter of the former Alpha of Grave Hills.