They're small. Just snacks, my dragon soothed me easily.

And through her eyes, the crowd on the ground, the notable dragonkin in the winged risers that surrounded the field, were only strange human faces, ones she couldn't even tell apart.

I released my breath slowly, and heat circled me, crackling in my ear and raising the fine hairs on my skin. I'd wondered if transforming was painful for Ronson, and while there was a discomfort in the expansion, the truth was simpler. My dragon reached out to part the curtain of one small, fragile form and to reveal the strength within. I moaned, and the sound was low and rattling. My wings spread back, huge and majestic, and my face rose high to the sky, stretching up, up, up, until the sun glinted off my horns.

The stage beneath me groaned at my weight, and I huffed a chuckle as the audience—their faces so tiny now, their eyes so wide, their collective scent far too potent—swirled and gasped and fluttered like a little flock of agitated birds upon a field of seed.

"Beautiful."

I turned my head, cocking it to catch the sight of my mate approaching my side, smiling up at me, his voice clear above the rest. His hand stroked the tough hide and scales of my leg, and the touch was as light as a feather, almost ticklish, but it was his hand on me, so I hummed with pleasure.

"Fly," he said.

Yes, let them see how strong we are. How lovely. Let them watch our flight.

I needed no further encouragement. My legs bent and my wings beat, and the stage heaved out a wheeze of relief as the audience shrieked in excitement and I took to the air.

At last. At last. At last.

The sun on my scales was as warm as my alpha's stare, the air under my wings as rich and silken as the sea. I spiraled higher, Ronson's voice growing smaller below.

"Mating is our true dragonkin gift. It is the true strength of our blood. It gives our omegas their own power, their own flight, and the safety to bear our sons and daughters without the great risk to their lives."

I twirled in the air, flying easier and more instinctive in this form, and a soft sound of appreciation circled the voices below me.

"It is a permanent bond, a lifetime, my lifetime devoted to my perfect match."

Pretty words, I thought, in tandem with my dragon now. Let's hear some more.

I circled back down, a little sorry to land and give up my transformation so soon, but my dragon relented easily, patient to wait for more time in the air. I shifted once over the stage, the crowd large below me, my back and wings tired, my skirts floating out around me.

I slapped my hand over my skirts to settle them back down and struggled to catch my descent for a moment. I would need to start wearing clothes more similar to those I'd worn on the way to the Flight of Alphas if I was going to be flying around the island. Ronson was reaching for me as I lowered down to the ground. His hand caught my hips, and my wings tucked in, grateful for the support at the last moment. My feet touched the stage, and Ronson's arm circled my waist tightly, his forehead dropping to mine.

The isle was quiet now. They would have questions—I certainly still did—but they couldn't refute that I was a dragon. I reached up and stroked my hands over his cheeks and jaw.

"We knew this wouldn't be easy," I whispered.

Ronson nodded, planting a kiss on the bridge of my nose. "I'm not afraid of the work," he answered. "I have you."

I fought my smile to kiss him softly and then pushed at his chest. "Go on, then."

Ronson sighed, keeping me in his grasp for a moment longer before finally releasing me and turning to the island. Someday, probably not so long from now, I would raise my voice with his, be as much a part of the role of alpha as he was. For today, I took a step back, finding Niall at my back.

"Did you suggest that to Seamus?" I whispered.

Niall huffed, shifting a step up to my side. "Perhaps."

Ronson cleared his throat, wings spreading at his side, shoulders back and chest broad. He stood with such natural authority, just as he had in a little drawing room for an afternoon gathering a few months ago. The Alpha of Bleake Isle.

My mate.

The man who shared his secrets and laughter with me, who loved me playfully and with starving hunger and incredible, patient kindness.

"There will be no future selection ceremony," Ronson said, voice full and firm, continuing before the shock of the statement could raise new voices. "I have my mate and no need of another omega. From now on, ladies, any gentleman who seeks your company ought to work quite hard to earn your favor. Any choices made will be yours, and you may seek my authority, or my mate's," he added, twisting to smile briefly back at me, "if that right is challenged. May all of the isle dragonkin find such happiness and completion as I have."

I blushed but tried to remain serene in my spot.

"He's getting better at speeches," Niall noted as Ronson continued. "And it only took half a century."

The door to the bedroom closed, and I stirred from my book at the rough sigh that announced my mate's arrival. I glanced at the candle at my side and realized it'd been hours since I'd come up to wait for him while he dealt with more panic from the betas.

"They gave up?" I asked, setting my book aside, open and face down.

Ronson groaned, sagging against the door. "Hardly. I banished them for the night. Have I told you today what a brilliant, magnificent blessing you are?"

"You have," I said, grinning, folding my knees up against my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I was in my favorite armchair in our bedroom, but now I had to sit in it sideways to let my wings drape over one arm. "First was this morning, because…well, you know…"

Ronson's gaze grew hot. "Ah, yes. I remember. A very thoughtful way to wake a man up."

"And then, of course, before the announcement to the isle. After too," I said, now counting on my fingers.

Ronson nodded. "Naturally. You did so well."

"And then once more before I came up to bed. What was it that earned me the praise again now?"

"Agnes Hubbard," Ronson said, finally pushing away from the door, hurrying to pull at the shoulders of his shirt.

"Ah," I said, nodding.

"I only had to do half the talking. Give that woman an inch of authority, and she uses it with the most shocking precision and efficiency I've ever seen in my life," Ronson said. "And she knows so many of the betas' mothers. Her threats were elaborate, artistic even."

I rested my cheek on my knee, watching Ronson undress, carelessly tossing his clothes in one direction and another. I had suggested that before agreeing to meet with any betas—who would undoubtedly argue every single change we had just announced—we ought to put some omegas on the Lord's Council and make it an Isle Council. Agnes Hubbard was the obvious first choice.

"Half of them have folded under her force…for now," Ronson said, kicking his linen undergarments aside and falling backward into the nest with a heaving sigh. He lay there for a moment, and I wondered if he'd fall asleep like that, exhausted by the day. But his head popped up, brow furrowed and lips just nearly suggesting a pout. "Why are you over there? Come here. I need to taste you," he said, patting his chest.

My body warmed in agreement, but I rose slowly, leaving my shawl on the chair and joining him in the bed, although not in quite the way he'd suggested. Instead, I circled to the other side, crawling up to hover my face over his so he was looking at me upside down.