"An unconventional omega?" Seamus scoffed. "I look forward to meeting her. And since it's obvious you look forward to returning to her, I'll say this quickly. You have my fire, Lord Cadogan, Alpha of Bleake Isle."

A rush of breath left my chest, and Niall and I shared the briefest surprised glance. I'd come to Grave Hills for Torion's vow, and probably Damian's. I'd never have imagined even asking a man such as DeRoche to be an ally, but he was a promising one indeed.

Torion smiled at me. "I should make some terrible bargain with you, since I'm more than likely facing a mutiny of my own in the near future, but you're far too honest to let me down. You have my fire, Ronson."

"Thank you," I said, leaning forward and reaching a hand for them to shake one at a time. "You have my fire, the both of you."

I should've stayed, finished my drink, continued making good bargains with these men. Instead, I accepted their laughter as I rose immediately from my seat and turned to Niall.

"Yes, yes, I know. Back to the isle," Niall said, nodding. "I'm right behind you."

I arrived back at the castle late, the sky dark and the halls quiet. Niall had, thankfully, urged me on when we stopped to rest our wings on the tiny island between Grave Hills and Bleake Isle, and I'd briefly entertained the idea that this time it might be Mairwen waiting for me on a balcony instead of one of my siblings.

But no, it was far too late and chilly out. She would be safely tucked into the nest. Waiting for me.

I grinned against the crisp air of the night as I swooped down from the sky to my personal tower, boots landing heavily against the stone balcony. The room inside was dark, but I would light candles. Would Mairwen be asleep in a pile of books? Or would she be undressed and under the covers, dreaming and waiting for my touch?

As it turned out, the answer was neither.

I scowled, shoving the new heavy curtains of the beautifully built nest aside, digging through the pillows, as if Mairwen had somehow gotten lost in the finery of blankets and cushions and silk sheets. I didn't know where she'd found it all. This was the lushest, largest, most decadent nest I'd ever had for my rut, and I suspected she raided every linen cupboard on the isle to build it. But where was she?

"Mairwen?" I called, my voice sharper than I'd intended. Not that it mattered. There was no answer. I hunted through the dark, opening cabinets and trunks as if the woman might be playing some sort of absurd game before rushing for the door, throwing it open and glaring into the hall.

I took a deep breath and snarled, my hands clenching at my sides, never more frustrated by Mairwen's elusive scent than I was now. There was no trail of perfume for me to follow, because I hadn't been here to keep her scent fresh.

"Mairwen!" Her name was harsh in my throat, tinged with something too close to anger.

Worry? Yes. A ferocious, frightened, desperate worry.

Had Gamesby grown impatient, or was he furious with me for foiling his plans? Had he taken Mairwen…or worse?

I tore through the halls of the castle, bellowing my omega's name, heaving breaths for any hint of her scent.

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Chapter FourteenMAIRWEN

“Mairwen!"

The sound of my name, tearing and clawing into my dreams, startled me upright, and I slipped from the edge of the couch I'd been curled up on and down to the hard floor with an oof! of breath.

For a moment I remained frozen, groggy and lost, squinting up at the vast shelves of books and the enormous fireplace I could've stepped right inside, and the huge, luxurious furniture that could've served as a bed, forgetting where I was and how I'd gotten here.

"Mairwen?!"

Ronson's voice, booming and echoing, shredded with a growl.

"Here!" I squeaked out, shaking my head and grimacing at the crick of discomfort in my neck. I twisted, glaring at the couch I'd fallen asleep on and the book I'd used as a pillow. Heavy steps thundered closer, and I braced myself for the alpha's anger, trying to scramble up from the floor but finding myself trapped by the twist of my skirts.

"Mairwen!" My name gusted out with a great heave of breath as the doors to the library banged open and the alpha froze in their broad frame.

He was shockingly beautiful, hair rumpled from a flight, but he looked haggard and wild as he stood there staring at me, his skin pale. His eyes shut and his throat bobbed, and he scuffed a shaking hand over his face.

"Library. I should've known," he muttered.

"Where were you—Oh!"

I'd barely gotten my question started before Ronson was storming closer, the doors slamming and shuddering shut behind him. I reared back, gaping up at the rushing dragon as he approached, the brief slack openness of his expression tightened now to a familiar predatory intent.

And then he was lunging down, arms snapping around my waist as he threw himself to the floor. His hand caught the back of my head before it could hit carpet and stone, and his chest pressed roughly to mine, his face burrowing into my throat.

"Ronson?"

He laughed, a dark and slightly ragged sound. "The damned library," he said. "I thought… Mairwen," he breathed, body sinking into mine, pinning me beneath him.

There was a clock on the fireplace mantle, and it was deep in the night, nearing morning. I'd fallen asleep in the library, disappointed by Ronson's disappearance before I woke and his persisting absence throughout the day. A day I'd spent laboring over his nest, waiting for his return. Even Beatrice hadn't known where he'd gone, although she hadn't seemed very surprised or concerned.

Ronson groaned and rocked on top of me, and my breath caught in my chest, my hands hovering in the air near his wings.

"You-you were gone," I sputtered awkwardly. I waited for you. And in a tiny private place in myself I admitted, I missed you. A dangerous confession. I couldn't afford to miss a man who would want to replace me in a decade.

"A new alpha ascended to Grave Hills," Ronson said, his lips nuzzling over my pulse, tongue flicking out. "Niall made me go."

I laughed at that, and Ronson lifted himself from on top of me, his own grin gleaming in the firelight.

"I didn't want to wake you," Ronson murmured, his hands sliding down my back to my hips, inching my dress up a little bit at a time.

"I…I couldn't have come?" I asked, wincing at my own question.

"Mmm, next time. The rut is too close, and I would've spent the day snarling at every alpha that looked at you," Ronson said easily, as if it were perfectly reasonable that other alphas would bother looking at me. He kissed across my collar, tongue teasing and lips suckling at my skin. "Mairwen, why are you in a damned corset again?"

"My dresses don't fit without them."

"Then we need to get you new dresses," Ronson said calmly, lifting my ass and rucking my skirt up.

I flushed, squeezing my thighs together, pinching my chemise in place before he could expose me. "I can't—I can't just go around the island without a corset."

"You won't go around the island at all," Ronson growled. I stiffened, and he cleared his throat, lifting his face from my collar with what I thought might be a blush staining his cheeks. "For a little while, I mean. I'm sorry, I-I couldn't find you when I returned, and I'm going a bit…" He grimaced, and I couldn't help but settle my hands against his cheeks, smoothing my fingers over the short bristles of his beard. "Mairwen," he sighed out, eyes sliding shut. "Tell me it's my turn to explore."