40. Ivy
I ’m positive my heat-fueled, jealous display has already spread like wildfire amongst the court. Oran’s father is a vile, self-interested alpha and I have no doubt he ran to tell anyone who would listen that his son was scent-matched to Namara’s new queen. For all he apparently cares for tradition and legacy, I can imagine he was practically drooling over the potential of his heir on the throne.
I hate to give that man and his shriveled heart any ounce of satisfaction, but I don’t regret claiming Oran so publicly. Seeing my alpha accept the truth of my feelings for him—watching as pure elation spread across his handsome face—was one of the greatest moments of my life. Knowing I hold his tender heart in my hands is an honor I don’t take lightly. Everything that followed my declaration was long overdue and very worth the wait.
Oran’s knot has long released us, but we haven’t dared leave the safe comfort of my nest. It smells so good in here now, like fresh apples baked over an open fire. The scent of us together and the raw, recent memories of our coupling are nearly enough to have me urging him for more. But the soft, rhythmic circles he traces on my back and the steady beat of his happy heart is too lovely a time to interrupt.
Here, in my most sacred space, my alpha holds me close to him, hoarding my love and affection. His emotions radiate down the bond like phantom fingers dragging possessively along my skin. His love is hungry, greedy —wanting to be seen so others can bear witness to his fidelity.
I understand now that fear—not shame or disinterest—kept him from opening up to me. His soft heart is so fragile, but he does well to hide behind a steely facade. Finally seeing behind the mask has given me a new and profound appreciation for the man I’m now bound to in both body and soul. I know with certainty he will be a loyal, ever-loving light in my life. His passion, his devotion for me and for this pack, is truly a wonder to behold.
“I love you.” A whisper, a touch of my lips to his chest—right over his heart that beats for me and me alone. I don’t care if it’s too soon to utter such a thing. I feel love and so I want to voice it for the alpha who wears his tender heart on his sleeve.
If I’ve learned anything these past days, it’s that I no longer have any interest in being bound by the expectations of others.
Oran’s joy is bright as it fizzles through the bond, bringing a smile to both our lips.
“And I love you, my Ivy.” His emerald eyes well up with unshed tears and I so badly want to throttle anyone who’s ever made him feel unworthy.
“How much of a mess do you think I made out there?” I ask. I hate to bring the judgment of the world into our little haven, but it has to be addressed.
I claimed Oran as my scent-matched alpha in front of members of Cillian’s court, my court. I allowed Oran to sink his teeth into my throat, a claim visible for all to see. Surely my shortsightedness will incur consequences.
“Hmmm,” he ponders, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. The breath he blows out tickles my skin. “I think you really stepped in it, love.”
Cheeky alpha—a right menace. I bury my laughter against his freckled throat.
“It’s nothing they weren’t going to find out, anyway. I suppose it’s better for the court to hear it from my mouth than anywhere else.”
Oran sighs, adjusting our bodies so we’re nose to nose. He kisses me then—slow, heated meetings of our lips—until I’m panting and tracing my tongue along his.
When he finally allows me breath, his cock rests hard along my stomach with renewed need for me. “I don’t give a shite what anyone else has to say about this, omega. You are mine, and I’m so irrevocably yours. Whenever, whatever anyone hears is of little consequence to me so long as you know I will belong to you until this world is but dust amongst the stars.”
I whimper then, overcome by his passionate declaration, and the way he feels pressed against my heated skin.
Oran groans, scenting my perfume in the air. He moves us once more, quick as an asp, so that he hovers above me.
Words aren’t required now. Not as he notches the head of his cock at my waiting cunt and drives into me with brutal, toe-curling force. Every stroke speaks to his hunger for me, his unrelenting love. Each strangled sound from his lips is a symphony lifting me higher towards the heavens.
My alpha wraps my legs around his waist, leaning forward to suck at the skin where his bond mark permanently lives. The weight of him, the thrumming pleasure radiating from where he bit me, is all it takes to have me pulsing around his length. I come apart for him as he whispers filth and praise.
“I’m going to live in this cunt, love. Going to make it mine and fuck it whenever I please. And you’re going to let me, aren’t you? You’ll never deny me what’s mine.”
Oran’s words are a hot rasp at my ear when his knot breaches me. Pressure, so much blissful fucking pressure as he fills me so beautifully. White-hot euphoria bursts from within, blanketing my vision with millions of stars.
I can’t speak, can’t think beyond his lips stamping reverent kisses to my face and his hands which soothe my shaking limbs.
All I know is pleasure.
All I am is his.
* * *
Midnight hangs like a curtain across the sky, shrouding the world in darkness. I’m roused by the scent of the earth dampened by rain and the warmth of a broad alpha body curling around me. His touch is delicate, sweeping the hair from my throat to trace the new mark Oran gave me.
Mate .
“It’s beautiful, omega. You’re such a treasure, giving your body to your alphas.”
My alpha who smells of burning wood and sweet smoke groans, his voice thick with sleep. “A fucking goddess. Our beautiful blessing from Fate.”
I want to respond, to bask in their soft words and admiration. But I’m so tired—so warm and safe between them.
“Her heat won’t be far off now. A day, maybe two.”
My heat. That sounds nice—so very nice.
My heat. My alphas. My nest.
“We need to tell Cillian?—”
“He knows.”
Cillian. My raven-haired king with his crystal eyes. He should be here too.
I don’t want to be upset with him anymore. His tender heart and good intentions made a mess of things but in love, there must be room for forgiveness. Without it, how can we ever expect to grow together?
I’ll tell him—tomorrow maybe. I’ll welcome him back into my heart and make us all pack.
Tomorrow. I sigh—a deep, contented sound—and let sleep grab hold of my hands to drag me under once more.