To Seduce an Omega (7 page)

Zebadiah smiled and shook his head. “Meet my youngest daughter, Iris. And you, Iris, calm down and make your curtsy to Titus.”

Suddenly regal, she dipped a curtsy and extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Titus.”

He bowed over her hand. “And I you, Lady Iris. Will you escort me back to my room, just to make sure I don’t get lost? You can tell me how your friend’s doing as we walk.”

Zebadiah growled. “She’s old enough, if your tastes run to youngsters, but she needs firm handling.”

Oblivious to his meaning, Iris giggled. “Don’t be so stuffy, Pops. Titus, I’d be delighted to accompany you.”

After another giggle and a finger wave at her father, Iris grabbed Titus’s hand and pulled him toward the door. “Giant cats? Have you ever heard anything so stupid?”

Entertained, Titus followed. Once they were out of her father’s earshot, Titus stopped by an arched Gothic window. “Iris, you can trust me. I don’t tell secrets. What did the healer threaten you with to make you give her money?”

Iris giggled so hard her shoulders shook “Viola? Don’t be silly. I gave her my pocket money because Pops had screwed her over again. He dotes on me and Fleur, so I don’t understand why he hates his eldest daughter.”

Titus frowned down at Iris. “Sorry. Say that last bit again.”

Iris gave him a disgusted look. “Grown-ups. They never listen. Pops is the same when I tell him to be nicer to Viola. As I said, Viola is his eldest daughter.”

Titus’s jaw dropped. “Viola’s your sister?”

Iris shook her head so hard her curls danced. “Half sister, silly. I’ve heard the women in the kitchen gossip, and they all say Pops fell hard for Viola’s mother. They married even though she insisted she wasn’t his true-mate. Maybe it stemmed from her human heritage. I’ve heard humans don’t have mates, but that’s just impossible. I do hope mine’s as tall as you when I find him, but he’d need to be younger, not an old man like you.”

Titus grinned. He must seem ancient to a girl just entering her teens, but in Lykae terms, he wasn’t that old. Iris had her facts wrong too. King Caleb’s true-mate was half-human, half-Fae, and their son had been born just after Jilly’s rescue. Humans could definitely form mating bonds with Lykae. It just didn’t happen often.

A soft growl rumbled through Titus’s throat as he waited for the usual pain and anger to kick in when he thought of his true-mate. That was when he let his anger run wild, downed a bottle of scotch, and picked a fight with some terminally stupid wolf. Not that beating on idiots helped much.

He tamped down his anger. Guilt still weighed like an overladen barbell across his shoulders, but for once he didn’t worry over Jilly. Iris was right. Viola did deserve better. Then he’d turned up and made things a million times worse. He’d never forgive himself for how he’d mauled and mistreated her. That made him as bad as Zebadiah. No wonder she’d bitten him. Tonight, he’d concentrate on how to make things right with his sexy little hedgewitch.

He took a deep breath, thinking he should stay loyal to Jilly. His natural wolf howled and lowered its ears. His primal wolf clawed at his heart, desperate to break free and claim Viola. Only his human side resisted, but it would be easy to lose himself in the healer’s blue eyes and forget about Jilly.

When he tried to picture Jilly’s face, all he saw were two eyes as deep a blue as a raven’s wing. He swore under his breath and concentrated on Jilly, but her eyes were so plain a brown that they’d never fired up romantic fancies in his heart. Viola’s, though…

Certain that Viola’s mother could have mated Zebadiah, Titus knew whatever had happened between the two of them had nothing to do with the woman’s parentage. “What went wrong?”

Iris shrugged, then straightened her yellow top. “I’ve no idea. Apparently, eight months after she moved in, Viola arrived.”

He felt as though he’d swallowed a lead balloon. The way he’d jumped to conclusions and heaped insults on a desperate woman appalled him. Even though his inner wolves wanted to cosset and protect Viola, he’d threatened to take away her livelihood.
King Caleb made a mistake when he said I’d make a good replacement alpha.

Chapter Seven

Titus pulled Iris into a window alcove and waited for her to tell him more. He knew Lykae pregnancies moved faster than human ones, and he had a bad feeling that he knew where Iris’s gossip was heading. Fortunately, the youngster didn’t.

She kept right on chattering. “Apparently, Pops had never been happier. Then—right after Viola’s sixth birthday—her mother vanished. Less than a week later, Pops banished Viola from the palace. Elspeth took her in, but she was ancient and already a little touched in the head.”

Poor Viola had grown up without a pack to watch over her and interact with. Like most Lykae, Titus loved socializing with pack or roughhousing with the unbonded males. Even eighteen months back, when he’d struggled to build a relationship with Jilly, the cubs had flocked around him. Pack meant everything to him, but Jilly’s kidnapper had forced him to go lone wolf to protect his true-mate.

He’d been lost and empty, but he’d have endured anything to keep Jilly safe. How any father could rob his cub of the security pack offered confounded Titus. His natural wolf growled and flattened its ears in disgust. His primal beast demanded Zebadiah’s throat, and if Titus hadn’t agreed to investigate for King Caleb, he’d have gone after the alpha in an instant.

Iris pulled on his arm. “Do you want me to tell you?”

He nodded but didn’t speak. His inner wolves went crazy, demanding he challenge Zebadiah right now. His Viola deserved better than a parent who abandoned her when she’d needed him most.
And when the hell did she become mine? I’m here to marry Fleur, remember. Not that I want a woman with wandering hands. Well, maybe, but only if it’s Viola.

Iris leaned against the wall. “Listen properly, then. Pops declared Viola the pack omega, and he’s picked on her ever since. Back in the market, I saw him send one of his so-called bodyguards to fleece her out her takings. No one ever pays her for healing them anyway, and she needs to buy fresh meat. That’s why I gave her my pocket money.”

Iris’s words felt like a spear thrust into his heart. Always angry inside, he’d unleashed his wildness on Viola, even threatened to bring in another healer. His primal wolf raged at him for that. His natural wolf turned tail and ignored him.

Tonight, he’d flash back to her hut and try to smooth things over. Hell, he’d go to his knees and beg if she’d just hear him out. Maybe if he took a gift, it would soften her heart. He’d learned to be patient when it came to affairs of the heart, but she might never speak to him again after seeing him stroll out of the great hall with Zebadiah and Fleur. “Iris, what does your sister buy when she has spare money?”

“Meat,” the youngster answered instantly.

Suddenly the archery target he’d seen in Viola’s garden made sense, but he didn’t understand why she didn’t just turn primal or even loose her natural wolf and go on the hunt.

Iris shook his arm. “Are you daydreaming? I’d get into trouble for that. Listen, Viola’s been trying to scrape together enough cash to buy new furniture after the fire destroyed hers, but she’s too thin. I wanted to make sure she had a good meal.”

Titus paled. The healer was hungry, poor, and desperate. No wonder she’d wanted her payment up front. He’d behaved like a jackass, but he’d find a way to make amends. He had to.

Before he could pump the child further, Iris pulled away. “I’ve got to get ready for dinner. Listen, Viola can’t hunt because of her leg, so I try to look out for her without Pops knowing. Please don’t tell him about the money. She tried to give it back, but I ran away. Can it be our secret?”

Titus wanted to ask what was wrong with Viola’s leg, but he needed to shower and change for dinner. It wouldn’t do to insult his host by turning up late, even if his wolves demanded he challenge Zebadiah and take over as Rock Prowler alpha immediately.

No way would Titus marry Fleur either, but Viola woke something inside him he thought he’d never feel again. He thrust a handful of gold coins at Iris. “I won’t tell, but you shouldn’t miss out on your pocket money. Now, go get ready for dinner.”

The girl giggled and ran off. After her revelations, he suspected Zebadiah hadn’t fathered Viola. That would explain why the alpha hated her, but it puzzled Titus why she didn’t just up sticks and leave. Iris had mentioned Viola had a leg injury. Maybe she stayed because she was too injured to leave. He growled and forced his inner beasts to calm, but they howled to take Zebadiah’s throat. Wedding Fleur would be worse than marrying into a family of demons. His wolves clamored for him to find Viola and make her his.
Yeah, like she’ll have anything to do with me after my performance earlier
. He’d jumped to terrible conclusions and misjudged her so completely that he deserved her contempt rather than more of her addictive kisses.

The guilt started again. For over a hundred years, he’d stayed loyal to Jilly. He shouldn’t lust after another female or consider her welfare before his own—but he did. The way he’d mistreated Viola sent his inner wolves into a frenzy. Even in human form, he wanted to slink off somewhere and lick his self-inflicted wounds.

He needed to tread carefully to coax Viola into accepting him after his stupid threats and the way he’d shoved her to the floor. Rather than barge in and shower her with jewels or take her a forest of fresh flowers, he needed to find the perfect gift. Since Iris had told him Viola couldn’t hunt, taking her fresh meat seemed his best way forward.

Just thinking about hunting and providing for her fulfilled a deep-seated need inside him. Only, even if she forgave him, Viola deserved better than a man riddled with guilt over driving his true-mate away.

* * * *

Dinner in Zebadiah’s stronghold dragged on for hours. Titus’s eyelids felt heavy, and he stifled a couple of yawns. Even his bones ached. The afternoon’s confrontation with Viola had left him emotionally exhausted. Meeting Zebadiah and his prospective bride-to-be had left him reeling.

Titus had spent over a century mired in guilt over not keeping Jilly safe. Now he felt like an earthquake shook his world’s foundations. His connection to Jilly felt less constricting, and for the first time in decades he could breathe freely. While his instincts told him his attachment to Viola was…impossible, his heart performed a happy wiggle dance—just the way a bee did when it found honey.

His weariness surprised him since his friends described him a 24-7, beat-your-brains-out-if-you-mess-with-me kind of guy. His wolves constantly prowled inside him, ready to punch the lights out of anyone stupid enough to antagonize him. Tonight they felt calm but weary. Titus wasn’t used to feeling this peaceful inside.

The more Fleur flirted, the less he liked her, and her incessant chatter drove him crazy. Unlike Viola, Fleur would never stand up to him if he raged at her, let alone threaten him back. Viola’s kisses had sent him into a tailspin. She’d opened her sweet-tasting lips and poured all her passion into that one precious kiss. At least, she had until she realized whose mouth claimed hers. Then she’d bitten his tongue. Her spirit enchanted him, and he needed to know her better. That way he might get to kiss her again.

Iris sent a servant to say she didn’t feel well, so Fleur went to check on her. Moments later, Fleur swept back into the room and told them Iris would have a light meal in her room.

Each course took forever to arrive, and Titus wondered if Fleur could eat any slower. She certainly didn’t enjoy her meal, not if the way she picked at it was anything to go by. Two and a half hours later when he finished his apple-pie dessert, he’d already decided to hunt down a buck and present the carcass to Viola.

As the meal went on, his stomach heaved, and he hoped he didn’t throw up. He couldn’t remember ever being so drained. He’d never reacted to a woman as badly as he did to Fleur and her sexual innuendos. If he hadn’t behaved like an ass toward Viola, he’d have slipped off to bed and enjoyed a good night’s sleep. Usually, he tossed and turned for most of the night, and at best he dozed a few hours, but something about Viola soothed the wildness rolling through his gut. Around her, he felt tranquil inside. Tonight once he’d hunted for her, he’d sleep deeper than he had in years.

A new excitement coursed through him, and he felt like a schoolboy courting his first crush. Viola made him remember he’d once been a decent man, and with her beside him, he could be that man again.

Exhilarated but weirded out that she almost made him forget Jilly, he wanted to feed Viola and help her put some flesh back on her bones. Once she’d eaten her fill, he dreamed of them flashing back to his friends to party—together. Before he could excuse himself, Fleur turned to him and licked her lips as though he were the next course.

For the first time, he understood why Jilly had rejected him. He’d waited over a century to claim her, and then he’d been so full-on aggressive that he’d pushed her away. Again, he tried to picture her face, but Viola’s midnight-blue eyes burned through his brain. He’d never felt so guilty or so damn conflicted.

He’d hurt the two women he would willingly lay down his life to protect. Jilly had run rather than accept him as her mate, and he’d shoved Viola to the floor in rage. If she ever forgave him, he’d have to tease her into mindless passion and love her until she begged him to stop. Then he’d love her some more.

Shit. I betray either her or Jilly. What a spineless specimen I am
. He froze with his tankard of ale halfway to his lips. He wanted to throw back his head and howl for hurting the woman he loved. For hurting Viola.

No one had two mates, but if backed into a corner, he’d choose Viola over Jilly every time. That set yet more guilt pressing down on his shoulders, and his stomach churned so badly he felt sick. If he hadn’t a stag to hunt and his woman to provide for, he’d hit the scotch. That or go brawl with Zebadiah’s bullyboys and take them down a peg or two.

* * * *

Night fell fast this close to the River Rojo and the Impassible Mountains that marked the edge of the known world. Nightjars already called through the darkness. By the time Viola reached her home, her knee had ballooned to over twice its normal size. That was why she kept her tincture of ginger, garlic, cinnamon, and turmeric on hand. It tasted vile, but it eased her pain. A hot poultice of Selfheal and St. John’s wort wouldn’t go amiss either. After she’d dosed herself up with painkillers and poulticed the inflammation around her knee, she’d eat and tumble into bed.