Page 76 of Omega's Virtue: Part One (The Hartwell Sisters Saga 2)

“I never wanted to leave. That was your idea. I won’t let them scare me away. I’m Beatrice Jane Hartwell. I am not meek or mild or afraid of anything.” Speaking the words aloud brought the world back into focus. My conflict with the alphas would be solved. And that could not be accomplished by running away. “If it is alright, I shall retire to my room for a nap.”

My room was a cold sanctuary to my fevered mind and body. My heat would not be a week away. Days. Goddess, I hoped I had days. I needed to beg for their forgiveness. At worst I had hours.

I had passed a maid and asked her for a bath. But when I got to my room I had nothing to do but wait. Stew in my own problems.

I crossed to the desk and flicked open the large portfolio. My sketches looked back at me. What had begun as casual studies of Viola, my mother, Mrs Markham had overnight become devoted entirely to Pax and Jack. An eye, a mouth, hand. More erotic imaginings that now, all too painfully, I could compare with reality. Each were as dominant as I could have wanted and expected. But the playfulness, the practiced ease in their love making had undone me. Left me raw enough that when the first hurdle of accepting them as my alphas had arisen, I’d run.

“Not this time,” I told the charcoal version of a scowling Pax. “I won’t run from you this time.”

Still I hesitated rather than dress and go to find them and beg their pardon.

A maid brought tea and biscuits with the bath, but still I stared at my sketches where fantasy and reality warred with each other.

“Best get in the tub, miss, before it gets cold,” the maid urged me. I did as asked.What a dutiful omega, I thought.

There were none of my favourite scents. Instead lavender and lemon filled my senses, cleaning away all our scents, soaking away the proof of what we three had done. Goddess I hated and needed to return to how I was before I’d walked in on them. And hadn’t that been the sign my resistance was futile in the face of the Goddess’ plan? I rested my head against the edge of the tub.

A knock at the door drew me out of my thoughts. “Miss? A bath was ordered for you?”

I sat up. “No. I have one…”

“The alpha said you would want one?”

“No. I already have one.” Goddess, how lucky that neither alpha could see my smile. Pax was the most likely culprit but it felt good, better than good, knowing that he cared despite how we had parted.

I waited until the water had grown tepid before climbing out, drying my body, squeezing the excess water out of my hair. Then dressing carefully, each movement so familiar I could do the motions in my sleep, but this time I focused on each detail as a way to clear out my mind of all the last cobwebs of doubts and uncertainties. These would be my alphas and to go into heat, to have them rut me, for Pax to mate me, I wanted nothing ugly or uncomfortable between us. My heat might only be a few hours away, and I’d not have petty jealousy or resentment stand in the way.

Now came the part I rebelled against. Grovelling.

Pax

Just after Beatriceleft

“Dammit.”

Beatrice had run off, and Jack had lain staring at nothing for half a moment before disappearing, his breeches slung low over his hips. Leaving me to clear up the aftermath. Slick and cum smeared over the table. I wiped it off as best I could with the scattered clothing, but some poor servant would have to do the rest. The stained carpet was beyond saving. The place would stink of sex and the bitter lemon or whatever they used to get rid of proof of our… Mating. That was the only word that came to mind.

I ran a hand over my face. Naturally, the plan to make them mine had existed for some time now. The planning to make it a reality was not new. But the fact of them? That they were mates?

“Never easy, is it?” I asked the Goddess. “Never easy.”

Beatrice’s clothes folded under my arm, I went up to my room and dug out the wad of cash I’d brought. One hundred pounds should placate the servants for now but I’d need to say something to Orley. The carpet at least could be saved, brought to London. Perhaps we could line the nest with it.

Making my way downstairs, the servants threw furtive glances at me—no good came of guests going where they were not wanted. The housekeeper, however, did not look entirely surprised to see me.

“My lord?”

“Here.” I handed her two fifty pound notes. “You’ll probably want to send someone to clean up the dining room. One of those bills straight to the poor sod who gets the task. If it is more than one let me know and I’ll get you the blunt.”

“Aye, m’lord,” she said.

“Tell me. How do you betas manage? Alphas and omegas fucking all over the place and leaving a mess for you to clean up. We’ve no consideration… No wonder the French overthrew their king and aristocracy.”

“M’lord. I think you forget we cannae be affected quite in the same manner as your lordship. And there are good masters and bad masters. You’d find that not many betas will stay with a bad pack or bad alpha. We are not weak or stupid.”

“My apologies. Well. The other fifty to the… You know. Here, take it now.” I shoved the bills into her hand. “More if… If you think it necessary.”

“It will be appreciated.”

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