"Most would say those are the markers of an alpha," I said, now as eager to study this man as he seemed to study everyone else around him.

He hummed. "Perhaps. Genetics certainly seem to create a pattern."

"In Dire Peakes⁠—"

"In Dire Peakes, they follow a matriarchal lineage—makes it harder to track the families who ascend. If you do the work" —and with that, he shot me a sly look to say he had done the work— "there are three specific male lines who've taken the role as alpha regularly, and one who ascends most frequently and most quickly." And then Bennett Reeves tipped his head in the direction of the beta Niall was speaking to, without even having to look. I suspected if I'd blindfolded him at this moment and asked him the locations of every individual in the field, he would've known them, perhaps even of the alphas in the sky.

"Alpha Cadogan follows a genetic pattern, but in all else, he seems willing to take great risk to make great change. I admire him for that," Reeves said.

"I won't dissuade you," I answered, smiling on behalf of the compliment to Ronson.

"I imagine your guard has realized I'm occupying your time by now," Reeves said, and I glanced over to find Niall staring at us with his brow furrowed.

"You have eyes in the back of your head, sir," I laughed.

"Just a very good sense of timing. I'll take my leave of you." He bowed, and I resisted the impulse to curtsy.

It was a little easier to breathe as he walked away, the weight of the air easing, and I turned to head in Niall's direction at the same moment he started to stride toward me. Either Damian Worthington couldn't sense what I did when in the company of Bennett Reeves, or he had good reason not to be threatened by his brother. The man was an alpha-in-waiting. And likely a formidable one.

"I'm very curious about the conversation you just had," Niall murmured under his breath as we reached each other.

"Oh, I'm sure you are, and you should be. But for now, I'd like you to introduce me to the man you were just speaking to. I have it on curious authority we should expect him to rise as an alpha in the near future."

"Ronson will end up replacing my help with yours if I'm not careful," Niall answered cheerfully. "Or at least allow me a day off."

Ronson hummed, fingertips grazing a torturous path up and down my spine, stirring new arousal, even as we caught our breath and sweat cooled on our skin.

"We'll fly to Torion's keep tomorrow, rest there for the night before we return home." Ronson's voice rumbled beneath my cheek where I relaxed against his chest, more vibration than sound. "DeRoche too. No doubt he's not done flirting shamelessly with you just to annoy me."

"You like him."

"He's a good ally." I snorted, and Ronson heaved a sigh. "Yes. I like him."

"Partly because he flirts with me," I teased.

"I deny this," Ronson growled.

I grinned and turned my face, burrowing into his chest as he sometimes did with me. His muscles were soft as we lay together, and they made a comfortable cushion to nuzzle against.

"What did you discuss during the flight?" I asked.

The dragons had returned just as the sun had started to set and the table for the feast had been laid. I thought Ronson and Torion looked a bit grim, but they eased at dinner, and by the time the bonfire was high and ale was liberal, my alpha was easy again.

Ronson turned us onto our sides. "Alpha Quigley wanted a universal sanction against omega migration⁠—"

"Because of Francesca?" I gasped.

"No. Unlikely, at least. Torion just lifted the sanction in Grave Hills that his father imposed. His betas are angry because it means omegas will be free to leave. And Quigley is angry, because it means his omegas will have somewhere to go if they manage to escape."

"There's no sanction in Bleake Isle?"

"No," Ronson scoffed. "No, not since I ascended. But I do the best I can to make the isle safe for omegas so they don't need to escape. Quigley was outvoted. But Damian Worthington argued in favor. Skybern doesn't even have the sanction."

"What of Dire Peakes?"

"Dire Peakes is the only region that never had a sanction, actually. I've only seen a couple omegas from there in my life, but they looked almost as ferocious as the men."

"Good for them," I murmured, my eyes dragging down. "I'm glad the sanction didn't pass."

"As am I. I'm glad Torion ascended. But Quigley had to know there was no chance. I had to get permission for Millward's pearl farming too. Quigley and Damian used my vote imposing the sanction against me. DeRoche stepped in. The seas are his, after all."

"If Bennett Reeves decides to ascend, you'll have another strong ally," I said, blinking heavily.

There was a long pause of silence, and then I rolled onto my back, stirring from my near slumber to find Ronson hovering over me with wide eyes. "You spoke to Bennett Reeves?"

I grinned. "He approached me. Said he admires you."

Ronson looked thunderstruck. "We've never even spoken."

I hummed and stretched, and for once Ronson wasn't distracted by the display of my body on offer. "I think he avoids others so you don't all realize how strong he is. I wonder why it doesn't bother Worthington."

"What do you mean, 'how strong he is?'" Ronson asked, scowling.

"He has a lot of...presence."

Ronson's eyes narrowed. "Oh, does he?"

"Pft, you're so jealous. Don't be absurd. Just sneak up on him tomorrow and you'll see. There's power, a great deal of it. Almost oppressively so. But unless he was trying to use me, to convince me he'd be a better ally than his brother—which I suppose is possible, actually… Goodness, politics are so tangled, aren't they?" I frowned, now less certain that Reeves had been genuine with me at any point.

"I am jealous, you know."

"What?" I blinked up at Ronson.

He shifted, and my body knew every movement so well, my legs parted without a thought, inviting him to settle against me. We'd grabbed for one another in a rush when we'd finally returned to the tent, like we'd been separated for days rather than hours, trying to stifle our gasps and moans. I was tired, but I wanted my alpha's attention once more, now that the revelry outside was silent and the night was quiet.

"I am jealous of DeRoche when he flirts with you. Jealous that Niall got to spend the day with you while I flew. Jealous that Bennett Reeves has impressed you with his presence." Ronson purred as he spoke, and I couldn't help but arch and rub myself against him.

"You know I don't⁠—"

Ronson ducked, stealing my protest with a gentle kiss. "I am proud too, Mairwen. So proud," he whispered, and I couldn't respond because he'd found his way inside of me, slowly and sweetly, our bodies perfectly attuned to one another after the rut and the heat. "Proud you are mine. My omega."

I whimpered, and Ronson silenced the sound with another kiss, rocking into me, over me, surrounding me in his arms, tilting my hips just so, driving all thought from my mind.

Almost all thought. There were two almost constantly playing in my head every morning and night, every hour.

I reached between us, grasping his face, speaking the simpler, easier of the two confessions out loud. "I am proud too. Proud to be yours. Proud you are my—" Ronson snarled and bucked, and I gasped, almost shouted in pleasure. "My alpha."