Omega's Gambit (The Hartwell Sisters Saga Book 1) by Flora Quincy

Author:Flora Quincy [Quincy, Flora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lady Garden Books
Published: 2021-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

I left the house with my mind so full that I stumbled as I stepped onto the street.

“Syon,” I whispered, needing my friend, and moved on instinct. By the time I’d arrived at his door, I’d been running. My blood pumping through my veins, my breath coming in short pants. I patted my cloak and drew forth the latchkey I’d been given by Horne. I headed straight to the library where I knew I’d find him. I just needed to see him, though I did not understand why.

“What racket... Hartwell? What is this?” he asked when I stormed into the library.

I pushed past him. “It is late. I am sorry.”

“Where have you been, pup? You smell… You are dressed as Viola!”

“I’m sorry,” I waved a hand as if to dispel the scent. “I needed… It isn’t my story to tell.”

I could see a frown on his face. Concern. The last thing I wanted. “Would you like a drink?”

It did not take long for me to get drunk. I refilled my glass liberally and soon lay sprawled in a chair in front of the fire that burnt in the library.

“What were you doing up?” I asked.

“Thinking. I am allowed to do that.” He sat stiff in his chair, though I couldn’t understand why. Or why he was taking such shallow breaths.

“Of course you are. I do not want to think,” I admitted. “Thinking... Hurts here.” I slapped a hand over my heart. I wanted to wipe the image of Olivia’s gaunt figure from my mind. What had she suffered? What had happened to her before the earl had died? I felt powerless to help her when the abuse had been body and mind. What could I do? What could Syon do? Would he do anything?

“The wine you have been drinking blurs your mind. Stop... Hartwell, stop.”

“You have no say of my actions.” I snapped and picked up the bottle to drink from the source.

He growled and stalked towards me. “Give me the bottle.”

“You do not own me,” I slurred then drained the bottle to prove my shallow point.

“Hartwell, you will do as I command,” he barked. I jumped up, clumsy on wine drunk legs. He steadied me with a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, craning my neck. For the first time, I felt small. Our sizes had never concerned me. Yet here I was, a tall omega, and I was a dwarf compared to him. If I was a real omega—if I was dainty like Olivia—then he would never have been duped.

“I am unnatural,” I murmured. “I am unnatural and every time I am with you I realise how unnatural I am. I want to be a proper omega.”

The hand on my shoulder tightened painfully and a whimper escaped my lips. “What did you say?” He growled.

My eyes felt heavy and they closed of their own will. “It does not matter. I am foxed, the drink has taken hold. Pay me no mind. Words will not change things no matter… No matter that I wish I was an omega like—“

My mouth was stopped by warm lips.

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