Page 15 of How to Keep a Fae

As for the clothes, it was more of a compulsion on my part.

Jayga had frowned as he searched under the bench like it might have fallen there. Then he stilled for the longest time before smirking and putting his armor on over his naked chest. He whistled to himself as he left the room.

August always places his clothes neatly. He didn’t even look elsewhere and turned to pin me with a penetrating look.Then, his lips curved upward, and I caught a flash of his fangs before he dressed and left without a word.

They are now my most prized possessions, and I sleep with them under my nose or tucked against my chest every night.

After the nests are done, we all head up the winding stairway to the day room. Unlike the dark, windowless undercroft where we nest, the day room has a broad window offering views of the thick forests surrounding Sanctum. A door leads out onto the balcony where we are encouraged to take some fresh air and sunshine, weather permitting. A low seating arrangement edges the circular room, with several tables and chairs in the center for craftwork if we prefer.

It’s cold, and nobody ventures onto the balcony today. But I find my favorite spot near the window where I can feel the weak sun warming my skin through the glass. I’m soon joined by Dede, who swiftly launches into the latest news.

I listen attentively as I embroider a flower onto a new cushion for my nest.

“… And, of course, you know what happened next,” Dede says, her voice a low, conspiring whisper.

I lift my head. “No, what?”

Dede is the source of all quality gossip. The omegas of House Silva hang on her every word. She is also my best friend despite us being as different as night and day.

“They moved her to another house because…” She glances around to ensure no one else is listening, which is ridiculous when she will likely tell everybody anyway. “Mated.”

I gasp. Her dramatic build-up was fully warranted.

I fumble my needle. The thread comes out, and I scramble to retrieve the fine bond needle, lest someone, or me, later stab themselves.

“I don’t know why anyone would want to mate,” she says with a shrug of one delicate shoulder.

Dede loves the life of a feeder, enjoying the attention of many men. With her vibrant red hair and sparkling green eyes, it’s fair to say that Dede is very popular whether a warrior is wounded or not.

I have often wished I could be more like her. But I have always secretly dreamed of more, even before two warriors crashed into my life.

“I thought you’d like to know,” she says, giving an exaggerated wink.

“Dede,” I hiss, glancing around to make sure no one is in hearing distance. “I swore you to secrecy!”

Her slender brows pinch together, and her pert nose raises. “I have told no one. No need to get your silk panties in a twist.” She wiggles her brows. “I’ll let Jayga and August do that for you.”

I snort an unladylike laugh.

It dies on my lips when I notice Denna has lowered her embroidery and is glaring at me. She is subtle about it, and no one has ever made mention, but her cool gaze lingers on me more often than it does the other feeders.

“In all seriousness,” Dede says, drawing my attention back to her. “I would never tell anyone your secret. If it makes you feel better, you’re not the only one with such dreams. I’ve not told you their name, either, have I?”

“No… They do?”

She offers a small nod.

I feel better and somehow worse knowing another omega suffers as I do. In the distant past, it is rumored that all omegas, both imperials and the lower feeders, mated as they desired. The rumors say our blood grew more potent for the mating but that the cost was too high should a mated warrior fall.

“How do you think the feeder came to be mated?” I ask,circling back to her earlier revelation. “Were they… Do you think they got permission, somehow?”

“Best make like you are doing your embroidery,” she whispers. “Mistress shrew is eyeballing us. The last laundry duty punishment ruined my nails for weeks.” She shudders and resolutely flips the page of her book.

I bite my lip to hide my smile and quickly thread the needle again. I’m confident she hasn’t read a word of the tome dedicated to nest design. Her nest is the prettiest I’ve seen. She could likely write a book on the subject, should she be inclined. As for the cushion I’m embroidering, my nest is full already, and so are my stores. I’m not even sure where it will go. But we just have to make ourselves look busy doing something other than gossiping so our house mistress will leave us alone.

“They did not get permission,” she says confidently, flipping another page of her book. “I bedded a warrior only last week who said how the omega was claimed without permission. He wouldn’t give me the details but implied it had something to do with her heat. Maybe they know a way to sneak into the hall of solitude?”

Warmth blooms on my cheeks and a wave of lust slams into me at the thought of Jayga or August tending me through a heat. Of them sneaking into the hall of solitude where we are put during such times. “Do you think it’s true?” I can see some complications, like most feeders having a close friend stay with them during their heat, but I suppose there are ways around that.

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