“If it makes you feel any better, I thought you were a rock star who’d been extended an invite into the family home,” I replied.
“Yeah?” That smile, too bright, revealing those sharp canines, ready to— “Well all right, Cyn, daughter of Miranda. I thought you were going to be some limpid eyed omega, falling at the feet of the Ratcliffe name.”
“Well, I did think of it, y’know,” I said, laughing my way through the truth of it. His scent, it had a one-two punch Kai would have envied. “But this is the first time I’ve worn this dress, and gravel rash is a bit beyond the pale at the first event of the season.”
“What?” There was a moment of silence as he processed what I’d just said—the very stupid thing I’d just said—and then he laughed. My eyes fell closed as it washed over me, sounding just like the velvet it had back in the forest. His eyes were on me when I opened them again, that smile fading. “I think I need you to sit here with me for this entire fucking breakfast.”
And bang, we were back to alpha and omega. That wasn’t an order per se, but there was a steely centre to it that held me where I was much more effectively than a direct command.
“You want your father to think we’re connecting?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“So he’ll keep the other omegas away?”
A small pause, and then, “Yes.”
“I’m to be your cover, your beard…” And as I said the words, I remembered Marcus McCallum’s hand on his shoulder, sliding down his back and into Orion’s—
This wasn’t what I was here to do, wasn’t what I should be doing. If I was to be a good little omega, sitting here with the Ratcliffe scion as he tried to avoid his familial responsibilities was not going to help me at all.
I told myself later that it was just me helping out a fellow traveller, someone else who was dissatisfied with the barbaric system we lived within, but deep down in my core, I knew differently.
“Well, then I’m gonna need to be a helluva lot drunker than I am now, if that’s the plan,” I said finally and went to get to my feet.
“Sit, omega.”
His hand, his voice, his command, they all resonated through me, all the way down to my clenching, thrashing core. I wanted to feel that hand slide upwards, around my collared throat, replace cold metal with warm flesh, be spread out on top of that bonnet, just as the omega had all those years ago. And I wanted my slick on his lips, not the fucking mimosa he skolled as he stared down at me. Because under all these pretty clothes and even prettier symbols of civilisation, like this house, that was what we were.
“I’ll bring you what you need, and you’ll drink every drop.” I looked up at him, meeting those cool green eyes for a moment, longer than I would have thought possible, all the humour of just seconds ago evaporated. But I nodded, even as I throbbed with the dual need to rebel and submit. “Be right back.”
Chapter 5
Orion’s lips rested just above my pulse point, teasing the skin there in a way that drove me out of my goddamn mind. Like I was halfway there anyway, with the liquid breakfast the two of us had consumed. Food was scorned for rich, salty, sour Bloody Marys, ones I was almost spilling down my dress at the feel of that mouth on me. But I looked up, spying the cause of all this affection almost immediately. Small, dainty, a sweet little pocket pet of an omega, it must’ve taken her some balls to come sauntering over here.
“Ah…Orion?”
He pulled away slowly, leaving a trail of little kisses along my shoulder as he did so, those eyes burning into me before shifting to stare at the intruder omega.
“Yes?”
“Your mother sent me over.” An arm went behind me, curling around and pushing me up into the hard length of his side. “She said to remind you to have something to eat and to meet some of the other guests.”
“Other guests?” A nose brushing against my collar, nudging it so as to draw my attention back to its cold clasp. “I’m afraid I only have eyes for one. Scoot back. Inform my mother. She’ll be fine.”
I waited until the girl was a fair distance away, flouncing back rather dramatically, before I turned into Orion’s embrace, our mouths only millimetres apart. I could feel his breath on my skin, taste that burnt sugar scent of his, and yet, I was about to say something that would bring this all to an end.
“So we’re Bridgerton-ing this thing?” I asked, looking to the outside world like I’d asked him something super saucy, like if he wanted to measure the depth of my throat with his dick. I met those impossibly green eyes and watched them widen in actual surprise, all that cool, calm, and collected alpha bullshit faltering for just one moment as what I said was decoded.
“That’s what this is, isn’t it? Daddy sends some poor suitable omega into your clutches. You appear entranced with her for the event and then never speak to her again.”
“You make it sound so cold-blooded,” he replied.
“Isn’t it? Like, I get it. This shit’s a fucking joke, but…”
What I left unsaid was the impact it would have on the poor omega, spiralling out on his alpha bullshit, the realisation that none of it was real coming a whole lot faster mentally than physically. With his scent in her nose, her body would pine for him long after he forgot she existed.
“It’s not cold-blooded at all,” he said between clenched teeth, and every instinct inside me instructed me to shrink down, make myself small in the face of his passion. Passion that wasn’t directed at me. “My heart isn’t my own to give away, no matter what my father says.”