Page 122 of The Ashpaw: Part One

The flutist grinned, and the drums thundered harder, the fiddler playing so fast she could barely see his fingers move.

Then the final sequence arrived—pairs rushing past one another in mirrored lines before snapping back to their original partners. Fern and the flutist caught opposite ends of the scarf once more, the fabric stretched between them as the last drumbeat struck.

The room erupted into applause and stomping feet, with voices shouting accolades for “their omega.”

Fern was breathing hard, heart pounding wildly beneath her ribs, and the flutist bowed deeply over her hand without quite touching it.

“The moon surely blesses the Sabletail Clan,” he declared loudly enough for the nearby tables to hear, “to have gifted them one of her precious daughters. A beautiful she-wolf and a fine dancer!”

Several wolfkin cheered again, but as she looked up at the head table, all of her joy evaporated at the sight of Darion’s hard stare, his jaw tight enough to crack stone, the seat beside him empty.

Kyntha was gone.

She thanked the flutist, but before she could leave, he placed the scarf in her hands. “A token for your nest, sweet omega.”

“O-Oh, thank you,” she stammered. He bowed his head one more time, then returned to the other musicians, picking up his flute to play again.

Taking the scarf with her, she shuffled towards her seat. But before she could sit down, Alastair beckoned her towards the other end of the table.

“Kyntha has retired for the evening. Perhaps you should sit next to your alpha.”

Darion’s eyes were trained on his plate as he angrily sawed through a slice of boar.

“Um, is that… alright? Alpha Darion?”

“Why wouldn’t it be alright?” Alastair asked, his tone biting.

Fern knew his ire was directed more at Darion than at her, but she couldn’t keep back the small whimper from escaping her throat. The head alpha immediately soothed her, taking her hand. “Darion,” he said quietly, though his voice was full of warning. “Won’t you welcome your omega to your side?”

Darion took a sip of his ale and then gestured with a sharp jerk of his chin to the chair beside him.

She started to sit when his arm wrapped swiftly around her waist, scooping her up and bringing her to his lap.

Several wolfkin hooted and hollered, and Fern tried to smile like she was enjoying the attention.

Well, she was. A little.

But it was forced on his part, and all she could think of was the consequences for her presence tonight, and how it had opened him up to ridicule and scrutiny.

How she had made his life difficult.

And how long she’d be locked in her room again to pay for it.

Chapter 28

Fern

Darion’s arm around her tightened, taking the scarf from her hand and dropping it on the floor. “And just who was that little performance for?”

He smiled like he was sharing a tender thought so the wolfkin wouldn’t know the threat in his tone.

“It was for myself,” she replied.

He held up a forkful of meat in front of her face, waiting for her to eat. She did, taking it with a tender bite, and then he said, “An omega should do all things for her alpha’s pleasure only.”

She swallowed, taking his goblet next and bringing it to his lips. He took a small sip, eyes locked on hers, when she replied, “I will bring my alpha pleasure when I actually have one.”

He growled low, but while he had the clan’s eyes on him, he couldn’t hurt her. Yell at her. Drag her out by her neck…