Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
TORION
My world had been shifting for months now. First, with my father's death, then again with Brigid's arrival at the keep, and once more during the days and nights of our rut.
Now I was realizing these weren't separate disruptive events, but simply that my life's axis had changed, tilting and sending me sliding down into the arms of the woman asleep beside me.
How could someone take such a firm and unyielding grasp on my heart, while breaking it at the same time?
It was barely dawn, the room cast in gray light, and Brigid's eyes were still swollen from crying the night before.
I'd managed to unwrap her from my family plaids while she slept, but I hadn't wanted to disturb her any further, and the red of her gown made her cheeks look especially pale, her freckles faded.
There was no outward sign of her pregnancy yet, but I had already begun picturing how it might go—a subtle swell at first, a rounding where now she dipped in, and then slow growth till she was swollen and irritable and burdened with our child in the most beautiful way.
It filled me with pride and terror and hunger, made my head spin.
Brigid was constantly in motion, at work.
How would I contrive to make her rest, or would being pregnant manage that for me?
How would she take it if I followed her back to the cottage? There was no question in my mind now that wherever Brigid went, I would be, and if that meant I had to abandon the keep to crowd her in her little home, so be it. If she made me sleep outside the door, I would.
Bellfry's ballocks, I was going to be a father the same year I'd risen as alpha. This was some combination of madness and uncanny luck.
Brigid stirred with the soft and familiar grunt of her rousing, and everything but my omega slipped out of focus once more.
She came before all else now. She had to.
Ned might say I was making the same error as my father, but Brigid was not the same woman as my mother.
She took her duty as omega to the Hills seriously and would remind me of mine, but no one had ever honored their responsibility to her. That was my right now.
"Don't tell me you've been guarding me all night like that," Brigid rasped, one barely slitted eye offering me a glare, her face mostly buried in the pillow.
I had been, and I wouldn't apologize for it.
"I've been thinking about how to get the betas to leave this morning," I admitted instead.
Brigid sat up, rumpled and dreadful looking and grumpy…and so stunning, it struck me dumb. "Torion, you know you can't."
I was wearing a fool's smile as I gazed down at her. "I can."
Her eyes narrowed in answer. "Then you know it would be unwise. I'll be all right today, I promise."
Seeing a win waiting directly in front me, I seized it before she could realize what she offered as a bargain. "You will. You'll stay here this morning. Have a long soak, and let Maggie bring you breakfast and all the gossip she gathered from the visiting servants."
Brigid huffed. "Torion—"
I brushed my mouth over hers and savored the startled blink of her eyes. "If you insist I tolerate the betas…"
"I do," Brigid said, frowning.
"Then I insist you relax this morning and simply join us for the evening meal. These men are here to gain favors from me. I don't have to let them ogle my omega while they do it."
Brigid snorted, but her expression smoothed at last. I would instruct Maggie to bring her a cool compress for her eyes too.
"Fine," she sighed. She turned, and I held my breath as she snuggled into my chest. Had she ever done that before? Probably, but I couldn't think straight with her so close. Everything was different this morning. "Let's go back to sleep. No one will be up so early."
"No…" I agreed, wondering if I could push my luck this morning as I added, "But I do have something to show you."
I'd planned on waiting until the betas had left, but perhaps after last night's confessions, it might be best to give her some time to think over my offers before she'd already made her arrangements to leave the keep again.
"Mm, is it important?" she mumbled, her lips brushing against the bare skin of my chest.
Was it important? I couldn't remember. Probably not.
It probably wouldn't do any good. I would be more likely to make her relent and return to the keep by annoying her and getting in her way at the cottage with an extended stay.
I didn't want to annoy her. I wanted to show her that I understood her, that I could take care of her in a way I suspected no one had tried before.
Brigid sighed and leaned back. "Oh, very well. Show me."
I glanced toward the window once more. It was too early for our guests to be waking. Then again, it was too early to warrant dragging Brigid from the bed after a difficult night. "It's not very—"
"No, you've made me curious now and I won't be able to rest while I'm wondering," she huffed, twisting away from me, but not before I caught the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
"You look as though you expect to be pleased," I said, following after her, watching with greedy eyes as she shucked off yesterday's gown.
There was just enough light through the window to tease me with her silhouette through her new thin chemise.
It had pretty lace along the hem, which meant I probably shouldn't tear it off of her any time soon.
Brigid paused, half turned toward me, head tipping thoughtfully. "I suppose I can't imagine you wanting to show me something that would displease me."
With my throat strangely choked, I stumbled to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her in to kiss her temple. "Fair enough," I rasped out.
Afraid of popping this tenuous bubble between us, formed of something like ease and something like harmony and something infinitely more fragile, I hurried to dress.
Brigid was learning to trust me, even if she didn't always realize how much that trust had grown.
My patience continued to be fruitful, which made my path forward easy enough to follow.
The mistakes a man like Malcolm had made were ones I wanted nothing to do with.
Brigid was my omega, and whether she was here at my side, sliding into a simple day dress, or alone at the cottage while I suffered without her, I wanted no other woman.
I would not leave her coping with her stress alone, not as long as she was willing to share her concerns with me… or I could ferret them out on my own.
I finished dressing and returned to Brigid as she struggled braiding her hair, taking it and completing it for her.
"Can we sneak by the kitchens on the way to whatever it is you have to show me? Maggie will have my ginger tea brewing by now," Brigid said.
"For your morning sickness?" I asked, wrapping an arm around her waist.
"It isn't very severe, although it's still a little early yet," Brigid explained as I led her out into the hall.
Her voice lowered. "Most days, it's nothing more than a queasy kind of feeling that pops up, morning or otherwise.
The tea manages that easily enough." She was quiet until we reached the stairs, then leaned against me briefly before adding, "Some days, I think the feeling has more to do with nerves about the pregnancy than the pregnancy itself. "
I took Brigid's free hand and lifted it to my lips as I tucked away the information. Brigid would need ginger tea at her side until she declared otherwise. Perhaps ginger biscuits too, just in case.
The tea was ready when we reached the kitchen, steaming in a large ceramic pint mug instead of the fine china, and Brigid took it gratefully, warming her hands around the base as she took small sips.
The keep was chilly in the morning, especially downstairs, where doors to the outside were being opened as the staff busied and prepared for the day.
Perhaps I could find some nice woolen gloves or a thicker shawl for Brigid as well.
"You're staring," she said to me. "Aren't we meant to be going somewhere?"
Caught, I thought, and I wrapped Brigid closer to my side with an arm and spread my wing at her back to block any drafts as we continued on our way.
The office I'd arranged for Brigid had been previously used as a ladies' sitting room, although my mother had found it too small and tucked away, the last door in the left lower hallway.
Still, it was twice the size of Brigid's cottage interior, and had a large—and newly repaired—window that overlooked the small loch to the south of the keep.
It also had a secret door that opened to a stairway down to the herb garden, making it easy for Brigid to gather and store her wares.
"If you don't like it, or just parts of it—" I started before opening the door.
"Torion," Brigid said with a little huff of impatience.
"Anything can be changed," I said, knowing full well that the men I'd had laboring to set this room to rights might have something to say, or at least think about that.
Brigid just stared at me with dry expectation.
It struck me suddenly—the contrast of the woman I'd met who'd told me how our union would be, who stood in front of me now, and the woman I'd held as she fell apart in my arms the night before.
I stepped forward and pressed my lips to hers, my blood rushing as she rose to her toes to lean into the kiss.
She was mine.
I hadn't been sure until now. She still might not be, but I told myself we would get there, in time.
I stepped back and then pushed open the door, turning immediately so I could catch her reaction.
Brigid's eyes widened immediately, breath catching and lips parting.
The room was fragrant with hanging herbs tied to racks that lined the high ceiling, carefully curated to match what I had cataloged from her cottage, and lined with freshly built shelves I'd designed with a thin brass bar across to better secure the glass jars that waited to be filled.
A cozy fireplace took up a large part of the right hand wall, and I was grateful to whatever maid had thought to set alight the fire this morning, now crackling and making the room warmly pleasant.
"Torion," Brigid breathed, stepping inside and stopping at the large counter that ran along the left wall, lit by three oil lamp sconces above. Below the counter were drawers filled with paper and ink, bandages, pouches waiting to be filled, and instruments for mixing concoctions.
"There is no reason why you may not continue your work here…when you are in residence," I said, trying not to sound too hopeful, too obvious in my goal. "If it pleases you."
A plush couch and two armchairs surrounded the large window opposite us, and a high bench waited near the counter for patients. And still, there was plenty of room for Brigid to maneuver, for her to fill the space with more furniture or tables if she chose.
"You did all this?" Brigid asked as I joined her at the center of the room. She turned slowly, her mug of tea still cupped in her hands.
"Anything you need—anything you want is yours, if it's in my power to offer it," I said simply. I'd said it before, but Brigid often needed to be reminded of my promises.
Brigid turned to me. She was still pale, the rim of her eyes still red, but now her gaze was filled with an open wonder, startled but not unhappy.
"If there are changes—"
"Don't you dare," she said quickly before pressing her lips flat and gazing once more around the room. Her expression eased as she looked her fill. "It's perfect."
I shrugged, ignoring the rush of pride bursting through me. "I'm sure you'll know what you prefer as you work in it. There is a—"
The secret door would have to wait. Brigid moved swiftly, setting down the tea and then catching my face in her warm hands and drawing me down for her kiss. Her mouth covered mine, firm and earnest, and offered a long, simple press that for some reason left me blushing as she pulled away.
"Thank you," she said, holding my stare for a long moment.
"You're welcome."
I'd barely answered when she wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing her cheek over my pounding heart.
This is enough, I thought. But Brigid wasn't done twisting my heart into happy little knots.
"I'm sorry I ran," she whispered.
My arms circled her, and then my wings too for good measure. I lowered my head and murmured into the soft silk of her hair, "I'm sorry for all the reasons you felt you had to."
Brigid sighed out, ragged and weary, and perhaps relaxed too. She spoke again, barely audible except for the fact that we were cocooned and there was nowhere else for the words to go but in my waiting ear. "Would you send someone to collect my things from the cottage?"
I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath of her, my scent of home. "Yes, witch. If it's what you want."
Brigid nodded, nuzzling into the open collar of my shirt, swallowing her own greedy breath. "It's what I want. And what I need too."