"I think you'd rather see the dresses," I teased.

"It's not the dresses themselves so much as you putting them on and taking them off again," Ronson said, grinning.

My right hand reached automatically for his cheek, studying the swell of his smile against my palm. I love when he smiles. I brushed the thought away before it could carry on, growing into something uncomfortably large and achingly heavy. I'd had to do that more and more often since the rut had passed and Ronson and I had become…

Still hungry for one another, sometimes shockingly so. But more than that too. We'd become friends. And I'd never had a friend who laughed when I was dry and sarcastic, who read books with me, who offered compliments and praise.

Certainly not one who made me tear at my bedsheets as I cried out their name, I thought wryly.

"Mairwen, if you keep looking at me like that, our flight will be very short indeed," Ronson purred, gazing up at me with hooded eyes.

"Flight first," I murmured, kissing Ronson's lips. "Seduction after."

He continued to purr as he carried me to the nearest balcony.

"My goodness, Mairwen, you will drain the alpha's coffers, putting on dinners as extravagant as this one," my mother trilled, pushing her pork nervously around her plate. She batted her lashes at Ronson at the far end of the table. "You really mustn't let our little mouse run amuck with your pocketbook, my lord. She does know better."

"Please, Lady Posy. Don't discourage Mairwen. She's made a world of difference to all our tastebuds," Niall laughed.

My mother's answering sound was uncertain, a small squeak of nerves as she caught Ronson's glowering expression.

The dinner was not going well.

Ronson had been calm to start, calmer than I, despite his best efforts to exhaust me in bed after our flight. He'd laughed as I changed my dress thrice, and growled and distracted me when I tried to lace one of my new corsets too tightly.

He'd greeted my parents warmly, shaken my father's hand, kissed my mother's cheek, guided them on a tour of the castle, which my mother had never visited before.

And then it began.

"Dear Mouse, with all these stairs, I'm quite surprised to see you're still so plump. You mustn't just laze about, you know."

Ronson had stopped dead on the stairs, glaring down at my mother, and it had been up to Beatrice to lead us on. She'd chosen the library.

"Mairwen's favorite room, of course," Ronson had said, stroking a hand down my back and resting it at my waist.

"Too curious for her own good, as usual, I expect," my father had bantered, laughing. "But I doubt Lord Cadogan has many of those silly novels you waste your time on, does he, Mouse?"

My tongue tied in my mouth, and my head ducked to hide my flush, Ronson's hand sliding away as he'd stepped in front of me almost like a shield.

"Mairwen and I read together nightly."

"Don't let her bore you with that drivel, my lord. Mairwen knows a man's interest doesn't extend to those trivial stories," my mother had cooed, taking my arm and drawing me to her side. "Goodness, Mouse, what are you wearing?"

Niall and Beatrice had tried their best, making up for my awkward silences and Ronson's souring mood, managing to get us all around the table. But even Cook's divine efforts at dinner hadn't distracted my parents, and the flavors I'd been so excited to arrange were now ash on my tongue.

Ronson cleared his throat, and my mother's nervous laughter died away, the entire table turning towards his words, forced out through almost clenched teeth as they were. "In every respect, Mairwen has exceeded my expectations of what an omega might be to her alpha."

For a moment, all the little slights and subtle chastisements of the evening melted away. Ronson's eyes caught mine, and the vision of him blurred slightly through grateful tears. I sat up in my chair, wanting to soar over the long table and into his lap.

"Very generous of you, Cadogan. Very kind indeed," my father said.

My eyes blinked, and I swallowed the stone in my throat, finding the food on my plate nearly untouched.

"Sir—" Ronson growled.

"You have been very good to us," my father continued. "I considered myself quite lucky when Mr. Evans stepped in and could be persuaded to take on our little mouse. But it was an exceptional honor, and quite a surprise, I might add" —he chuckled here and my mother laughed delicately in agreement, their eyes flashing fondly in my direction— "when you claimed her for yourself! And very considerate of you to settle things between Gryffyd and me."

Ronson's knuckles were white around his silverware. I'd left my own abandoned on the table, my appetite ruined for the night.

"I wonder, my lord, if you would be open to discussing a proposal I brought you some years ago," my father continued.

"Darling," my mother cautioned lightly.

My eyes narrowed, stare bouncing between them, and Ronson shifted in his seat, brow furrowing.

"A proposal?" my alpha repeated.

Niall was frowning now too, staring at my father.

My father chuckled again, but the sound was reedy and tight, not earnest. "Not long after you took the helm of alpha from your father, in fact. When you declared indentured servitude unlawful."

"Father." I sat up sharply, but only Ronson spared me a glance, not that my voice had come out more than a whisper.

"I understand your position, of course, my lord," my father said, waving a hand. "But if you recall my proposal—an amendment, if you will—to better those humans' conditions, provide some token payment⁠—"

"Father!" This time, there was no ignoring my voice. My mother called my name, but I ignored her, ignored the stares from everyone, even Ronson, as my father turned cooly in my direction. "Not only is this not the time nor place for you to propose business to Lord Cadogan, but on such a topic? I know it was your trade once⁠—"

"Mairwen," my father began.

"—but it was an immoral and cruel practice. You said yourself the terms were never designed to benefit the humans. There is no civilized society now that still abides by servitude, so how precisely would you propose finding⁠—"

"Mouse, you know nothing," my father snapped, a rare fire in his tone that set me back against the spine of my seat. "That trade you think so little of was what built the roof you resided under for nearly twenty-seven years!"

I wet my lips but couldn't find the words. Not before the alpha spoke.

"Omega Cadogan."

I blinked, looking at Ronson, but it was my father he was staring at with narrowed black eyes and fists clenched upon the table.

"My lord," my father murmured, ducking his head. "Forgive my daughter's temper. Our Mouse is softhearted and knows little of these matters."

"No," Ronson said, voice heavy and the word clipped. "Her name is Mairwen. Or Omega Cadogan. Not Mouse. And in fact, Lord Posy, your daughter—my omega—knows quite a lot. Not least of which is my position on indentured servitude. I am aware that the restrictions I placed on the flesh trade impacted your own investments, but no bond between us, no matter how precious," he said, eyes flicking to me and words rasping sweetly, before facing my father once more, "will influence my decision on that matter. I recommend, sir, that you listen to Mairwen's advice on this and drop the subject."