Guinevere turned to look over her shoulder at me and I was surprised to find her pupils blown as she let out an exasperated sigh.
“You all really need some sex ed,” she muttered under her breath before answering my question. “Omegas don’t like the scents of anything in their nest but their own and their alphas. Some of these were touched too much by whoever set them in here and they smell wrong.”
I was not going to ask what sex ed was as there were apparently many things about the future that I was not and would never be able to understand. “So now what do you do, little queen?”
The endearment rolled easily off my tongue and Guinevere seemed to like it because I watched a shiver roll down her spine as she squared her shoulders and got back to work, talking as she began to arrange the furs.
“I put them in the nest until they are perfect,” she told me vaguely as she spread the largest fur of the bunch out to cover the cushion of the nest.
“And how do you know if it’s perfect?”
I heard an annoyed huff. “How do you know if a sword swing, or whatever, is perfect?”
“Instinct and practice,” I answered immediately. It was what set knights apart from regular fighters. The sheer amount of practice it took to take on the mantle of a knight was not forthe weak, but there was a certain amount of natural talent also required to be a true warrior.
“Same thing with nests,” she said, twisting some of the linens and tucking it along the edges of the nest. “When I first awakened as an omega it drove my mom nuts when I would steal all of the blankets in the house and make my blanket forts to hide in.”
“How old were you when you became an omega?” I asked curiously, my eyes on her slender frame as she lifted a dainty foot and stepped inside of the nest and dropped to her knees to continue her work, her dark curls spilling over one shoulder in a delicate waterfall.
The motion sent her sweet scent wafting towards me and I had to push down on the desire to join her in the nest whether it was done or not.
“Twenty-one,” she told me, her words a bit sheepish.
I was surprised by that. “So late?”
Guinevere shot me a dry look. “You sound like every man I’ve ever spoken to about it. I was a late-bloomer. When did you become an alpha?”
“Ten and five, a season before I drewExcaliburfrom the sword.”
“Truly like the damn fairytale,” was all Guinevere muttered with a shake of her head before she sat back on her heels and surveyed her work. “It’s no blanket fort, but it’ll do for…”
She trailed off as if suddenly remembering the purpose for the nest.
I was already standing and crossing the room. “I told you that night, Guinevere, that our marriage would be a true one regardless of past, present, or whatever future lies before us and I meant it.”
“I know,” Guinevere told me with a frustrated sigh as she avoided my gaze, her eyes on the large window that framed oneof the stone walls, showing the now-starry sky outside. “I just thought I would have more time to, I don’t know, come to terms with it all?”
“Is it because you fear me?” I asked, hoping that was not the reason for the omega’s reticence.
Guinevere shook her head.
“Then is it because I am ugly?”
This time her head shake was accompanied by a snort of derision. “You and I both know you are not ugly, Arthur. I just don’t know you that well. How often do you jump into bed with a stranger?”
I did not tell her that most of my bed partners were strangers who I had no interest in learning the name of. I was not well-versed in the mind of women, but even I knew that was dangerous territory to step into. “Have you known every partner you have made love to? That every man who crawled between your thighs was a lover?”
Even the visual of it sent a strange envious streak through me and I had to push it from my mind.
But my words made her pause. “No… not really.”
I reached for her, cupping her face in my hands as the urge to comfort her filled me. “Then think of this as nothing different.”
“But I wasn’t marrying those guys.” Brown eyes rolled as if I did not understand the situation at all. “I did marry you.”
Something about the way she said it was so satisfying to me that I nearly dipped my head and gave her a premature kiss.
The wedding earlier had not required more than a chaste peck on the cheek—any more than that would have sent the tongues of the audience wagging.
