Ronson cleared his throat as the last of the plates was removed from the table, catching my glance with a glitter of mischief in his eyes. He was going to send everyone on their way to bed, early as it was in the evening.

I stood and opened my mouth without thinking, only knowing that if I was called upon to play the role of the alpha's hostess, I wanted to do it properly, leaving no room for my hospitality to be called into question.

"The ladies and I will leave you to your drink and discussion," I said, but Ronson was already circling the table toward me. "You may find us in the blue parlor."

"Oh no, you don't," my alpha purred, grinning. "We'll join you there now."

"My lord," Palmer protested.

"You've had my answer since you arrived. No. Millward and Buchanan have the resources they need and my offer of capital. You have no resources and no need of capital." Ronson's arm slid around my middle, cupping my waist and leading me to the door, the rest of the room following suit. "Let that be the end of the discussion and the start of a more pleasant evening."

I tried to free myself from Ronson's grasp and take his arm, as would be polite, but his grip was too firm. At least it was only Beatrice behind us.

"What if it was not your capital being offered? They want a share of the profits, don't they?" I asked in a whisper.

Ronson glanced down at me, brow furrowing. "That would be a solution. I'll speak to Millward and Buchanan first. Thank you, Mairwen."

I blushed. "You were having too much fun thwarting them."

"I hope you've been doing the same," Ronson said, fingers squeezing my hip.

I hummed and shrugged, and Ronson let out a small, stifled growl.

"I should've sent Bea to⁠—"

"No," I hissed, shaking my head. "No, I'm fine, Ronson. It's better if I am the one with your guests." If Beatrice had been the one to keep Adelaide company this afternoon, it would only have given the betas reason to think Ronson didn't have confidence in me.

"Very well, but I insist on having my omega's attention for the rest of the evening," Ronson said, not bothering to lower his voice by the end.

He dotes well, I thought, unable to hide my smile as Ronson settled me in a cozy armchair near a stack of books I'd left on a table the week before. I liked the blue parlor best in the evenings. It looked over the island rather than the sea, all the delicate lights of homes and the farther towns sparkling and fading over the course of hours.

Gamesby was doting too, or mimicking the concept as he hurried Adelaide onto a chaise, fetching her a blanket.

"You see, Lord Cadogan, I had hoped to share a toast with you, celebrating our good fortune," Gamesby said, too loud for it to escape anyone's notice, even as Niall and the other betas sat down to a card game.

Ronson sighed, his back to the room as he poured us drinks by the bar cabinet. "I don't see why we can't do so⁠—"

"For our dragonkin community is shortly to celebrate another entry to society," Gamesby continued, rushing the words over Ronson's, his hand clamped on Adelaide's shoulder.

Whatever reception Gamesby expected, it probably wasn't for Ronson to turn, two short glasses of whiskey in one hand, and stride toward him with a calm expression on his face—not a smile, those were rare.

"Congratulations are indeed in order," Ronson said, passing Gamesby one of the glasses and then tapping his own lightly against the rim. He offered Adelaide a brief bow, and her eyes widened. "I wish your family the very best."

The pair were silent, Gamesby's fixed smile tightening and Adelaide's cheeks flushing slightly. Ronson returned to my side, offering me a small glass of sweet brandy, a syrupy heat on my tongue that we'd discovered I liked best. He leaned against the high back of my chair, one hand dangling down to toy with a braided loop at the nape of my neck.

"We are…very lucky to know so soon," Adelaide said, straightening. She found my eyes and held them. "And certainly, we will be delighted to raise our son in the same generation as the alpha's. When do you plan to announce, Mouse?"

Ronson's hand tensed, tugging briefly on my hair before stroking over the side of my throat in apology. It struck me, in the sudden inhale of breath that circled the room, that of course this had been their aim. Had Ronson succeeded? In spite of his choice of omega, in spite of their efforts to distract him, would the alpha produce an heir this year?

And I was the only person in the room who knew for certain if such a thing was even possible.

I glanced up at Ronson and found his gaze already hunting mine, an urgency there, a worry. I would've given anything to banish the others in the room and ask him what he was thinking, to dive into his head and know the absolute truth of his thoughts.

"I admire your curiosity, but you know as well as I do that any announcement is too precious to precede in a parlor. The island will know as one when the time comes," I said, doing my best to hold my calm as I turned back to Adelaide.

Her eyes narrowed, and I refused to flinch.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Thirty-TwoRONSON

My claws dug into my palms as I stared at Mairwen.

Perfect. She was so fucking perfect.

I wondered if she realized how Palmer's stare slid in her direction every so often, brow puzzling into a knot. How Gamesby couldn't bear to look at her, but his nostrils flared with hunger when she passed him.

Mairwen was gleaming, pale skin shining like a jewel, mouthwatering bosom lifted and presented like a feast, only the first course revealed by the heart-shaped neckline of the dress that stroked over her, velvet laced to a cinch around her waist, scooping below the silk of the gown. Her smooth, shining hair was twisted back, pinned in soft loops and thick braids, a few heavy locks left to hang in loose curls over her shoulder. Her eyes glowed in the firelight, ambers lit from within.

It was laughable to imagine that I or anyone else had ever considered Mairwen plain, insanity to think that a poorly-fitted corset could've disguised the truth. She was almost too beautiful to behold. The welcoming stretch of her full mouth as she smiled, lips peachy-pink and glistening from the brandy she sipped, pursed as she struggled to restrain a laugh at some dry remark of Beatrice's. It was all I could do to keep from dropping to my knees, crawling to my omega to beg for the gift of a kiss.

As if I'd be able to stop at one.

I was going mad.

Not because I found Mairwen beautiful—that was proof of some sanity left in me.

No, I was losing my mind because I was seriously considering letting out a roar, transforming into my dragon to chase our company out of the room, so I might be alone with my omega. So I could ask her the words burning on my tongue.

Mairwen rested her empty glass on the side table, and I licked my lips, watching her long, pale fingers cup and then clap together. Adelaide had started playing the pianoforte and singing some time ago, and it was a relief to have the room's attention turned away from Mairwen so that I might admire her in peace. I wanted the entire world to acknowledge how exquisite she was, and then I wanted them all to leave us be, so I could appreciate her privately.

"Oh, Mouse⁠—"

I let out a growl, a reflex at that absurd nickname, but Mairwen's elbow launched off the arm of her chair and into the side of my thigh, cutting off the sound abruptly.