Page 88 of The Ashpaw: Part One

“Fern… I will carry you now. You are a part of my clan, and I am glad for it. A wolf, once made and now true. An omega.”

He held out his arms and waited, until slowly, at her wolf’s urging, she left Reinn and climbed into them. When he stood and began to walk, she finally said, “I still don’t know what that means.”

Alastair was quiet for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

“It means you’re different from most wolfkin,” he said at last. “Rare, rarer than even alphas. Omegas strengthen clans in their own ways. Not through brute force or strength, but with their scent, their yielding demeanor.”

Fern frowned slightly. “But all I did was cause problems.”

“Because you were treated like one,” Reinn muttered from nearby.

Alastair’s mouth tightened.

“The trouble is that wolfkin react strongly to omegas, and their instincts take over. Protective instincts, territorial ones. Mating…” He glanced down at her. “Especially since no one knew what to make of you yet. Including us.”

Fern’s mind was too addled to think through the words carefully, but she guessed it made sense. Especially after what had happened with Harland.

Her cheek rested against his bare chest, and she rubbed it there.

He was so warm, and when he began to purr, she let out a small sigh.

“And my wolf knew?”

“Your wolf has always known,” Eidan said softly. “She just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Is that true?

Her wolf shrugged.

You’re awful.

You’re scent-marking the Head Alpha and he purrs for you. I think I did just fine.

“Then what comes next? Am I still…”

“The Ashpaw? Gods, no,” he said quickly. “No, your failures have been nullified and your status returned and elevated. You will live in the private quarters of the castle. You will not work. You will not suffer.”

It all sounded so nice…

And then another voice, not her wolf’s, whispered from the dark recesses of her mind.

I wouldn’t count on it…

* * *

There was a huge spread of food brought into the Council Chambers, all meant to be picked up with fingers and eaten at one’s leisure.

Norden had tried to persuade Fern into some clothes once they’d arrived and settled. But she still needed the feeling of bare skin on hers, and compromised when he wrapped a cloak around her shoulders as she sat straddled in Eidan’s lap, her chest against his, her face buried in his neck.

He tempted her with bites of fruit and cheese, which she only took because he’d reward her with fingers digging through her hair to massage her scalp.

Fern was glad to be facing away from the alphas, because she was sure the expressions she was making would be very undignified.

“She’ll need a mate before the next full moon,” Alastair said, the room murmuring their agreement. “Harland’s loss of control is but a taste of what we have to fear if the rest of the clan believes there’s an omega for the taking.”

Fern shivered at the mention of Harland, her memory of the previous night hazy.

But she recalled the fear, the danger…