"A beta?" I echoed, marching for the door. I hurried out into the hall and found one of the younger maids nervously wringing her hands.
"Miss Maggie is with him, milady, but he's talking around her and not leaving as asked."
Dread ran icily through me. "I'll go deal with the situation. Send up a couple of the big lads to stand outside this door. No one is to go in. Especially not this beta."
Whoever he is, I thought, afraid I might already know.
The maid dipped a low curtsey as I rushed for the tower stairs. As a beta, Malcolm's scent was milder, but it still provided enough warning for me to brace myself, to reach the doorway with my arms crossed and my eyes narrowed, a sharp word on my tongue.
He was expecting me, arms spread and face skeptical. "He hasn't even taken the alpha's quarters? That ought to say enough."
I wiped my teeth with my tongue and changed tack. "He is the alpha. The alpha's quarters are wherever he chooses. Regardless of that, you have no right to be here, Malcolm."
He scoffed, his eyes studying every inch of me. "You look more like his washer woman than his omega."
I blinked, lips quirking, surprised and pleased to find the words held no sting. "You're being childish, Malcolm. You should find your way home. You don't want the alpha to find you harassing meherewhen he returns."
Malcolm's jaw tightened, and he stepped forward, eating up the space between us too quickly. "What are you going to do, omega, when you fail to deliver the alpha's heir? You and I both know your body is a disappointment in that way," he said in a low, too sweet whisper.
I swallowed the urge to tell him about the heir I'd nearly given him. He didn't deserve to mourn with me, so I did my best to keep my expression blank.
"Your body was a disappointment in many ways," Malcolm continued, with a more leisurely glare caressing over me. That look would've stirred me once, regardless of his bitter words. I felt nothing now, at last, and that realization made it easier tobreathe as he continued, "Why do you think I had to seek succor elsewhere?"
My brow furrowed, and Malcolm's eyes glinted in victory, gaze tracking my tongue as I wet my lips.
"I have realized, my lord, that you lacked the understanding to draw out the best of what I have to offer," I said softly, thinking of Torion, of his mouth and hands, of the way he glowed, watching me come apart in his arms.
I was too focused on the thought of my alpha, too slow to dodge, and Malcolm caught me by the shoulders in a tight grip, his eyes blazing with fury and also a hunger I recalled but didn't feel the echo of now.
"Is thatso? Maybe you had better—" Malcolm's snarl died as I pulled a pair of shears from my apron, ones I'd used to cut the velvet and linen for Torion's nest. They were sharp, and they left a pale indentation where I pressed them to Malcolm's throat, my slim arm reaching up easily between us.
"Are you mad, Malcolm Barr?" I hissed, trying not to let my voice quake. I hadn't been prepared for him to touch me, grab me, and it made my heart pound too hard and too fast in my chest, but my hand was steady where it pressed the sharp point of the shears to my former lover's throat.
His grip lessened and then released, face shuttering to its usual coolness. I kept my weapon in place.
"Leave here. Collect your new omega. Return home," I gritted out, one word at a time. "Pray I don't tell the alpha you dared to touch me."
Malcolm stepped back slowly, and I tried not to crow as I watched his shoulders droop, his breath slipping out on a sigh. He kept his eyes on the tip of the scissors, and I wondered if he would have the sense to be wary of his own washer woman in the future.
"I beg your pardon, Omega Feargus," he said, delivering a too brief and stiff bow before sweeping around me to retreat out the door.
I waited until I could no longer hear his footsteps down the stairs before gusting out my own sigh and dropping my scissors back into my apron, falling backward to lean against the doorframe.
I needed to bathe now, to wash any trace of Malcolm off me, for my own sake and for Torion's rut. I needed to eat, to prepare myself for the coming rut, when there would be less opportunity. But as I stood, shaking, catching my breath as if I'd run a mile, the only thing Iwantedwas Torion to appear before me, gentle and sweet and a shield against the past and the rest of the world.
When my trembles settled, I stood straight and returned downstairs, pleased to find two strapping human men waiting at the door to Torion's bedroom.
"We watched the man go out the front door of the keep, milady," one lad announced before offering a belated bow at the hips.
I flattened my hands over my hips and nodded. "Thank you both. Please have someone send up the hot water for bathing. And all the provisions for the alpha's rut." They started to depart as I reached the doorway and I turned, calling out to catch them at the last second. "And ask those outside to be sure that any lingering dragonkin depart soon. As politely as possible, mind you."
The men hurried away to do as asked, and I entered the bedroom, tugging at the strings of my apron, pulling off the handkerchief I'd tied around my hair.
Torion would return soon. He'd said his rut was near. Rather than wait for it to come on, I would draw it out myself.
A dark determination came over me, petty revenge and selfish passion snarling together. I knew Torion better now. Iknew he wanted me. I would conquer his desire and build it up into the demand of the rut.
The alpha would be mine tonight.
