His dragon scales had been dulled by the smoke, but transformation left all that behind, and compared to everyone out in the field, he looked so pristine it made me stumble. My belly swooped at the familiar intent sharpening his expression, my own muscles tightening in anticipation.

"Mairwen," he growled in greeting, and if I hadn't known better—known the way he spoke my name when he was crawling up my body to claim my lips in a kiss—I would've panicked at the thought of displeasing the alpha.

But the alpha was Ronson, and I knew the look on his face as he begged for me to touch him.

I ran toward him, accidentally knocking a pretty omega who was scarcely older than me out of the way—one of the omegas he hadn't chosen a decade ago. Ronson's snarling purr thundered in the field, and his knees bent as I leapt, his arms snapping around my waist, one hand clapping possessively over my bottom.

I wrapped my own arms around his shoulders, bowing my head to whisper in his ear. "The betas started the fire themselves. They're trying to keep you from your rut so you can't gain an heir before they have a new plan in place."

Ronson stiffened, although his chest was rumbling with a purr, and his hands absently squeezed my body as if reacquainting themselves with my shape. Perfect, as he'd called it.

Whatever the betas thought of me, of Ronson's choice, I'd believed that word as it was rasped into my skin. I believed the awe and hunger in Ronson's gaze as he'd watched me meet my pleasure with wide eyes.

I leaned back, my face hot, too many stares pointed in our direction. Ronson's eyes were black with hunger, just a hint of deep brown surrounding his wide pupils. I stroked his cheek and left a sooty mark.

"Take me back to the castle, alpha."

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter SeventeenRONSON

Iflew in my dragon form, Mairwen seated carefully between my shoulder blades, her arms wrapped around the back of my neck, hands holding to spikes to keep her seat. It was easier to think straight like this, to not tackle her down into the grass and rut her in front of the entire isle. I puffed a breath laced with fire, and the grip of Mairwen's thighs tightened.

Publicly claiming Mairwen was a tempting thought. An effective curse to the betas who plotted against me.

See me with my omega. See me breed her and create another future alpha to keep you in your place.

Except there was one tiny, decidedly human thought pricking the bubble of lust. What happened if Mairwen did become pregnant with my heir?

My dragon heir. The likely future alpha.

Mairwen might die. Mairwen.

My father had lost five omegas to early and still-births before my mother had survived my own. Those were especially bad odds for dragonkin—usually it was a little less than half of births that failed—but my father had said his own birth was one in seven. He'd acted as though it was a point of pride. I'd accepted it as the danger of how strong we were, larger and more powerful than the other family lines on the island.

But now that danger was on Mairwen's shoulders.

The crass mutterings I'd heard about women and their bodies battled against my own feelings for the curious omega. She had good hips for breeding. She was larger than a lot of the omegas. She might withstand the birth. But what did that make her odds of survival against my family line? Even if she was more likely to survive, there was still risk. Risk against her life, a risk I might lose this omega I'd only just found.

Her perfume was the secret I'd drawn out, savored and craved in equal measure. Her wide eyes and flushed cheeks as she raced across the field to me to whisper the betas' plot in my ear, so unabashedly loyal when the rest of dragonkin schemed and watched me from afar. The still, quiet peace of her body curled against mine in the morning. Could I risk losing all of her for the chance of an heir?

If Mairwen grew pregnant during the rut, there was a sickening, painful possibility she might be gone before the end of the year. Gone for good.

And it would be my fault.

My wings drummed through the air in protest, and Mairwen's breath caught, barely audible on the wind, as the island edge cut away behind us, leaving only the restless sea below.

"I love flying!" she called out from behind me.

I'd been careful to hold steady and straight, to follow some of the turns of the air so I wouldn't jostle her, but at the sound of her voice, bright and delighted, I leaned forward and tipped cautiously to the side. Mairwen laughed and clung tighter, and I glanced behind me to see her hair whipping back in the wind, braid loose and wild. Maybe I would just keep flying, keep her safe on my back, close to me but not in danger.

We passed the castle and soared higher. Mairwen's thighs squeezed against the hard, scaled nape of my neck, and even through the dense hide of my dragon, her warmth soaked into me.

I couldn't resist the rut. I'd barely managed to leave the bed this morning, and it hadn't even started yet. I might seek another bed partner, but the thought of going back to the nest without Mairwen, of bringing someone else into it to spend the rut with me, made me feel sick and disgusted with myself. I wanted her. I wanted her scent and her sounds and her touches. I wanted her slick heat and her curiosity and her shy smiles.

I wasn't even entirely sure I could withstand not spending the rut with her, now that I craved the possibility. I'd never been sincerely interested in a woman before, let alone an omega, never been so obsessed with the proximity of any person.

I didn't want to lose Mairwen, and I didn't know how to keep her safe. Not when the threat to her safety was me. I'd be lust-addled and ferocious during the rut, mindlessly driven by the breeding instincts. There was no avoiding spilling myself inside of her. It would be like telling myself not to breathe.

Even thinking too much about the rut was creating a problem. If Mairwen weren't on my back, I would've dove into the sea.

Perhaps…

Perhaps I could leave for the rut, leave the isle. Lock myself away somewhere?

Perhaps Torion might have a dungeon in Grave Hills strong enough to hold me?

I puffed fire and turned for the castle. If I could just manage to keep away from Mairwen long enough to speak to Niall…

He would remind me that I'd been determined to choose an omega this year precisely for the reason I was now so reluctant: to conceive an heir. To hold my family line. To hold my own power.

I released a growl and made a sudden sharp turn for the castle, Mairwen squawking in surprise and holding tightly to me. She laughed, and my heart burned with restrained fire, wings and body arrowing toward my bedroom balcony.

I transformed midair, landing on the stone and catching Mairwen in my arms, hauling her against my chest before I could think of what I was doing, my mouth slanting over hers. I needed her close, needed her safe, needed her in the nest⁠—

Under me.

Surrounding me.

Clutching me closer as she⁠—

Mairwen gasped as I yanked myself away, holding her back by her shoulders, staring at her and guzzling in her scent by the lungful. Her cheeks were red and marked with soot, hair tangled from the wind and frizzy and wild from the fire. She was a mess, dressed in my clothing, eyes red and lips chapped. The impulse to soothe her marked skin was so strong, my mouth watered and my body shook.

"I need—" I rasped.

Mairwen smiled, holding out a hand to me. "Yes, I know."

Fuck. Fucking Belfry's ballocks. Because she was right, of course. I did need to take her hand, follow her into the nest, lose days in her taste and her skin and her welcoming body.