I twisted in his arms and gasped, the gently abrasive friction of touch shocking tired nerves over every inch of my body. I wet my lips and found them sore and swollen. Ronson's hold loosened, but he buoyed me in the cold water, and the icy lick over my breasts was a startling relief, even as I shivered.

"The rut?" It was as much of a question as I could get out through slightly chattering teeth.

"Try and relax," Ronson said, smiling. "You'll adjust quickly, I promise. The rut passed. And your heat broke yesterday, early morning. Or maybe before, but that's when I woke. You've slept since."

"M-my heat?" I murmured, but my hand tightened over Ronson's shoulder as I recalled the hazy, panicked, boiling heat within the nest.

"I'm so hot. I'm—Alpha, please, I need… Cock. Knot."

I blushed and slid down into the sea—Ronson was right, I was adjusting to the cold—ducking my head as if I could keep my memories from Ronson's view. As if he hadn't been there himself.

"Lean back."

A warm hand clasped the back of my neck, and I obeyed without thinking, my eyes sliding shut on a sigh as Ronson helped me dunk my head in the cold water. A small moan escaped my lips, and the hand on my hips tightened. An ache in my scalp I hadn't even realized was there melted away.

A tight fist gathering up my hair as I whined, scratching at the sheets, strong hips plowing against my ass, a soft, snarling purr sounding behind me.

My eyes opened, and I found Ronson's gaze taking an unhurried path over my chest, down to where my legs were wrapped around his hips. He looked hungry, although not in the same blazing, devouring way he had in the nest, abyss eyes roving over every inch of me. They were lighter now, in the morning, almost the color of dark chocolate, and he smiled gently as I caught him staring.

The sea swirled around our waists, and I studied the scene, looking up at the high cliffs and the spires of the castle. Black rocks dressed in seaweed and barnacles rose up around us, where Ronson had settled on a smooth landing.

"I perfumed."

He drew me up, and water sluiced down my back, heavy, long strands of my hair slapping against my bare skin. I shivered, and Ronson gathered me up to snuggle against his warm chest. If I didn't think precisely about the events of the rut, if I managed not to examine them too closely, there was still a kind of ease between us now. The hair of his chest was familiar against my body, the huge frame of him a memorized shape between my thighs.

"You did. Exceptionally," Ronson purred in my ear. He lifted my wet hair from the sides of my neck with gentle claws, grazing over sensitive skin, and then pressed his face to my throat, breathing there for a moment. "It wasn't the first time, Mairwen. You've been perfuming for me since the start."

I stiffened, and his hand on my hip slid to my ass, squeezing. "I have?"

Ronson nodded, stroking his beard over my shoulder. "Only barely at first. More and more every day since. I won't take the nest down now."

"But the rut is⁠—"

"Over. And I'll wash the sheets myself. We'll use the velvet curtains for our blankets. But that nest is ours now, Mairwen."

It was too easy to fall into this alpha's dark stare, into his low rumbling words and the steady drone of his purring. Had he stopped purring yet since I woke? I didn't think so. He wants me in the nest? Ours?

"You're going to wash the sheets yourself?" I asked instead.

"I threw open the windows before I flew you down. It needs to air out," he said, flashing a grin. "But I don't want any other scents inside that room…for now. I'll wash the sheets after I've bathed you and fed you. You can rest more."

My eyes widened. "Ronson, you don't have to⁠—"

He growled, cutting my objection off, and I caught my breath as his head ducked down, but his mouth landed so lightly over mine, just enough to steal the words from my tongue, to soothe my bruised lips and tease them with a feathering touch.

"Indulge your alpha, Mairwen," Ronson purred, his voice vibrating against my tender skin. "You have no idea… You were a miracle during the rut."

His words and the low rattle of his voice brought a dozen moments of the past weeks to mind, a shivering heat racing through my skin, almost tempting me to beg for more. His mouth on my breasts? No, they still felt bruised and aching. His fingers on my sex? No, I still throbbed numbly. A kiss? I licked my lips and ruled that out too—they were too raw and chapped. What I wanted would have to wait. My body needed more rest.

"A bath does sound nice," I said, circling my arms closer around Ronson's shoulders.

He rewarded me with a nuzzle against my temple, and his wings lifted from the sea, shaking water droplets off. I laughed as I was sprayed, and he nipped at my jaw. Even that spot was sensitive too! I wanted a look in the mirror.

Ronson's arms squeezed me against his chest, and I withheld my whimper as his body pressed to tired bruises. The water seemed to pull in refusal as his wings beat, dragging against my hips, my legs, my toes, but we broke free with a splash, and I held my breath as Ronson raced up the cliffside and to the tower, trying not to think about the fact that we were both bare and flying up past the windows of the castle. We would only have been a flash of skin. No one was likely to be looking, surely.

My face was hot as we landed on the windowsill, but any embarrassment quickly evaporated under the sudden shock of stepping inside the room. Ronson had thrown the windows open, allowing a delicate breeze to circle the space, but it only seemed to carry the scent with it.

And the scent.

I gaped for a moment, dizzy in the churning air, the rich sweetness and subtle smoke, like the incense inside one of the old temples for the great dragons. Ronson's purr thickened, and his hands on my hips began to stroke.

"Good, isn't it?" he rumbled.

It was…intoxicating.

My eyes watered and I tried to cling to Ronson's shoulder as he peeled me away. The enormous tub was filled with fresh, steaming water, waiting for me. Ronson's head ducked, and his brow furrowed as he found a tear sliding down my cheek.

"I did this?" I asked, breathing in.

His expression softened and he tugged me closer. I nuzzled my face into his chest and recalled burrowing there during the rut, catching my breath and kissing the skin. I pressed my lips tentatively over his heart, and the gesture was easy and comforting.

"You did, omega," Ronson said, bending slightly to press his lips to the crown of my head.

I sighed and let him direct me into the tub, down into the water. The alpha's omega was meant to serve him, not the other way around. But I didn't protest as Ronson ran a sponge carefully over my skin, kissing the red marks and purple bruises he'd made during the rut. I closed my eyes and let the sudsy water wash from my hair, his fingers traveling gently through the strands. I parted my lips for the bites of food he fed me as the water eased my tired muscles.

And when he led me back to the nest, only gauzy cotton curtains still standing, bed dressed in fresh sheets but no less potently coated in our scents, I slid into the pillows and blankets and accepted his kiss on my brow before falling back to sleep.

After two days of quiet rest, recovering from the exhausting weeks of the rut and my heat, Niall put his foot down.

"The betas have started to ask questions." Niall's voice echoed from a distance. Ronson hadn't let him—or anyone else—approach the door. He'd been making any trips for food and water himself.