Omega’s Gambit by Flora Quincy

Viola

I felt hot and shivery at once.

“Syon, please,” I cried out, uncertain what I was asking for but needing to be released from this spiral of uncontrolled anticipation. My core clenched, begging to be filled. My head begged that he would release me and release me… Sat back in my chair, amused at the flowers growing out of Syon’s ears. My heart wanted both. The sound of a symphony filtered into the throne room, I wished to escape the vines binding my wrists and see what kind of alpha he truly was. Would he try to master me? Would he use some new way to express his will? The cool breeze of my mother’s garden soothed my heated flesh. For until now, he had not physically imposed his desires on me. Always it had been a word or look. These new interactions filled me with electric anticipation. Musical violets bloomed with spontaneous galloping force, and Syon held me, coaxed each desperate, sobbing moan of pleasure from me…

A whimper escapedas I rubbed my slick covered thighs together. What had I been dreaming of? I could not remember anything of it, but my fingers went immediately to my sex and began trying to find some relief by sticking three fingers into my cunt at once. There was a moment of resistance at the sudden intrusion that had me gasping, but I relished the bite for it was the closest I would get to the abrupt fullness that a knot would provide.

After my disturbing, deliciously erotic dream, I sent a note round to Syon informing him I’d not be able to join him today. He would understand. I’d gone too far last night in the library and could not face him. In truth, I was not afraid of his reaction but my own, convinced that should I see him, be in his presence, I would want to do more than suck on his cock until he came on my tongue. I wanted to taste him again, know that his scent mingled with mine. Go as far as I dared, before pulling away at the last moment to maintain my disguise. I felt sick at my deception, but unable to quiet my omega instincts which cried out for Syon with alarming need.

My needs, however, must be put aside. There was one whose need, albeit a different kind, was greater than my own. As sick as I felt at the thought of him with another omega, better that than risk the Countess being abandoned to the streets. From Caroline, I knew that her father the vicar resented that he would be responsible for Olivia’s board and upkeep. It should have been her parents, who’d been paid ten thousand pounds for her, but they’d disappeared after the wedding. I’d pledged to help her and from what I could see, Syon offered her the best future.

You could reveal the truth about your dynamic. You could have him for yourself. The insidious thoughts crept in—not so easily dismissed these days. Syon would hate me if he learnt the truth. Hadn’t he expressed his disgust at being manipulated the day before? Or at least that he would punish me for deceiving him. And what punishment greater than to send me away?

* * *

That evening, a note was delivered to my uncle’s—Olivia, begging for my presence. Caroline was out, and Olivia was alone and desperate to speak with me. I too needed to speak with her, and in private, for my thoughts were akimbo, warring like a kite caught in a storm. I needed to press on with Syon’s suit. Our recent conversations had won me a point: Olivia wanted to marry again and an alpha. The sticking point for her was which alpha. I dressed quickly as Iris for it would be easier to travel so late as an alpha, but did not bother to bind my breasts or wipe away my scent counting on my twin’s clothes to do most of the work.

Tonight I would propose in Syon’s name. My role would be done, and reluctantly, for I could not imagine them happily married. But I had made a promise. Eventually, I would find a way to go back to the life I was intended to lead. To be sure, it was not the one I longed for, but the past months had caused me heartache. I did not want to continue with this farce. Better to end the charade before I was in too deep. An obvious lie—how much deeper could I fall? I wished to tell Paxton and Fordom that they had been correct. That I could not continue my masquerade any longer. I would once again tame myself, grow out of my childish pranks. I could not ignore my dynamic any longer. I did not want to. Being with Syon almost every day had taught me how dangerously appealing an alpha could be to an omega.

My thoughts were a gorgon’s knot. I chuckled. The last thing I wanted was to cut through a knot. Not when I was dreaming of an alpha’s one. That kind of knot... I froze. My thoughts too frequently were turning in that direction. Perhaps my aunt was correct, and my heat would come unexpectedly after I had tried so hard to suppress it. No, I might resign myself to an omega’s life but I would not let myself be ruled by passions. That would only prove to alphas that they were correct: omegas were weak and unable to think beyond their sexual desires.

* * *

The butler opened the door and in a hushed whisper told me I could find her ladyship in the drawing room. I took the stairs two at a time, in a rush to propose in Syon’s name before my resolution left me.

The door was ajar, and I slipped in, closing it, and turning the key, locking us in the drawing room. It was lit by a fire and a few candles but otherwise it was hauntingly dark, or perhaps seductively so. A place to receive a lover, rather than a friend.

“Olivia,” I called to the little omega, who curled kitten-like in her chair. In the time that I had known her, her looks had improved. She no longer looked on the verge of tears. She had put on weight, a pleasing thing for an alpha since omegas with curves would weather a heat better than one all skin and bones. And a strong heat meant she was more likely to catch.

Her head shot up, and she scrambled towards me. When she was within arms reach, I dropped my cloak.

She fell back, a fluttering hand touching her breast. “Oh,” came the soft voice. “I wanted... Viola?”

I hated what I was about to do but it needed to be done… I could think of no other way. I must play a part of an aggressive alpha… I must pretend to be Iris, I must propose in Syon’s name. I could only hope that I’d laid the groundwork, that she was receptive to marrying again, and that Syon would come across as an alpha who wanted to marry her enough that he would do anything to win her heart.

“Not Viola, never Viola. Sweet lady, I have committed a fraud,” That at least was the truth. “I am Iris Hartwell. I came dressed as my sister, dishonourable wretch that I am, to woo you. Not for myself but in the name of the Duke of Orley, who wishes to marry you. Knowing your sad tale, he wants to marry you. He wants to save you from a miserable future. Make you his duchess. Please lady, forgive my presumption. He is wild with… I am so sorry… I conceived of this deception to help him.”

Her eyes were wide, shining in the firelight. I thought her silence would end in a scream, expose me. She rushed towards me and grasped my hands in hers.

“Let me see you, come to the fire and let me see you,” there was a longing in her voice.

“Please, my lady...”

“Call me Olivia as you have before,” her hand drifted to my face as if not believing what she saw. “I will not know what to do if you call me anything but Olivia. Please, tell me... Your name is Iris. You are Viola’s twin. You are...”

“I am Iris. Viola’s twin.” The lie was too ingrained in my mind, but to give voice to it in front of her made me uneasy.

“Viola’s twin, an alpha. I knew it! I love you,” her voice trembled. I stood frozen before her, unable to know what to say. This must be some mistake, a joke. What could I do? To reveal my true identity, to say that I was Viola, an omega, and not my alpha twin as I had confirmed with my last breath? “I love you, Iris or Viola—it does not matter. Please, say something.”

“My lady… I do not know what to say, or why you think I am... His Grace… It would be… It is impossible for me to respond. And solely inappropriate under the circumstances. The duke! The duke is the one who desires to marry you. He wants to save you. He can protect you. As his duchess, you will want for nothing. He is good and kind… He is the best man I’ve ever met. I would not trust you, dear friend, to him if I did not believe with all my being that he would take care of you.”

“But you are here!” she cried. “You came because you loved me! I knew. I knew almost from the start that I loved you. And then it was no great mystery to discover you were not Viola. There was always something about you, a scent that tickled me to my core— I was slick for you. I knew you were an alpha!”

“I told you my meaning,” I interrupted her and tried to draw back. “I come as an emissary for the duke.”

“Oh, I hate the mention of him! He is an alpha. A man. How can he be any different from other alphas? I won’t believe it. You came for yourself. Deny our friendship… You cannot.”

“How could I? We are friends, but I am his secretary… I might be an alpha, but…” I reluctantly maintained the lie. But this lovestruck woman made me feel like a fool. Caught in a trap of my own making, and one I did not know how to escape. I crossed to the window and looked out. A single candle shone in the window of Syon’s library. All my thoughts were with him, and I cursed myself for coming here when, if I had my wits about me, I would be tucked into my own bed. Or I’d come dressed as myself. Fool, for wearing Iris’ clothing tonight, but it was safer to wander the streets as an alpha in men’s clothing than as an omega in skirts.

“True meeting of hearts. True mates! We have spent many hours in conversation. Are you to tell me that was a lie? You are the one who gives me hope. You give me kindness. Not the duke. I do not care for him. I do not know him. I love you.”

“Olivia, you do not love me. Not truly,” I drew her to a chair by the fire and not so gently pushed her into it. Her scent flared, and I perceived my mistake. No omega would use force as I had. I cursed myself but pressed on hoping my words would get through to her. “You, perhaps, love the romance of an alpha coming here in secret to woo you. But this is no novel written for omega’s fantasy. Love does not happen upon you suddenly—“

“But I am not saying it did! From the first, I knew I could trust you. Love grew with each passing day.”

“You mean my sister.” Though I was not sure I meant my sister or me. What a muddle. Syon was correct. I made things too complicated.

“No, you! I would know your eyes anywhere. I swear upon all. It was, it is you I love! Please. Take me from this prison and make me yours!”

For all her ardour, the little omega had stayed in her seat by the fire. I wondered if an alpha would be crossing to her, taking her up in their arms, and… What, I could not know. Growl at her? Purr for her? Kiss her? I tried to think what I would want in such a moment. I would have crossed to him. I knew. I would have crossed to Syon and forced him to look at me. Because his resolve was great, and he would not want to give in. That was not his way. He was civilised. He is also feral, my traitorous heart reminded me. When you fought with him, when you changed behind the screen and he sat there. When you tasted him and wanted more. Then there was something dangerous lurking in his eyes. He would not care if I was man or woman, alpha or omega—no, I was wrong. His desires were as confused as Olivia’s because they did not know the truth.

I wanted to flee to Syon, put my arms about him, and beg him to hear my tale. To forgive me or not, I did not care. All I knew was that this charade must come to a conclusion.

“I am sorry, Olivia. I am not what you want. Give me a day and I shall prove to you that you deserve better than this shadow puppet you’ve known these past weeks.”

Like a coward, I ran from her and did not stop running until I’d arrived at Weymouth Street. I stood in front of the house and was violently sick, but the acidic taste was nothing compared to my own heart’s bitter anguish at all I had done to two whose friendship and happiness I valued more than my own. When had it all gone so wrong?

* * *

I wrote to Iris the next morning begging her to return. I would not be able to unmask myself without her presence. She would strip my mask free. And, like Beatrice, I would become yet another scandalous omega by the name Hartwell. It was necessary. I could not do this for a moment longer.

The letter sent, I sat at the small table in the drawing room, unable to form coherent thoughts. My stay in London was over. But as yet, I had no notion of how to see through to the end of the game without sacrificing the queen, without sacrificing my own dreams and happiness. It would be worth it though, I had to convince myself of that. Syon and Olivia, together or apart—they’d know the truth and be better off without me.

“His Grace, the Duke of Orley,” Roberts called.

“The Duke?” I gasped, sounding quite stupid. I stood, causing my chair to clatter to the ground.

“Yes, Miss Viola.”

“I…”

Roberts was thrust aside, and Syon walked in as if it were his own home. He was dressed for riding and clutched a crop in his hand. His hair was in disarray as if he’d run his hands through his golden locks. It only emphasised the frown which crossed his face on seeing me alone. With a curt word, he dismissed Roberts. I bit my lip. This duke would see nothing amiss in his high handed manner. Roberts, however, waited until I told him to order some tea.

“Your Grace,” I curtsied. “I am afraid you find me alone. My aunt has gone out and my uncle is not here. If you wish to leave a note...”

“Your sister? Not home? Good,” he asked but did not move any further into the room. “My manners. You are Miss Viola Hartwell.”

He came forward to grab my hand in his, staring at it as if it were a disagreeable letter from his steward. He dropped it abruptly without shaking it or—heaven protect me—kissing it, leaving me bereft of his touch. His manners were odd. I had never seen him display any nervousness. But today he gripped his crop and tapped it against his thigh. My mind went straight to the day he had spanked me, and I felt my core tense with need. He could not scent me, I reminded myself. If there was slick, he’d not notice it. I closed my eyes, breathed in and released both to find him watching me keenly.

“Is this a bad time?” Syon asked. “I had hoped...”

“My aunt is not at home. I said that already…” I swallowed unsure how I felt about the propriety of speaking with him without a chaperone. I did not fear for my virtue, but I was alive to the very real possibility that if ever I were to be caught in my deception it would be now when he could see no difference between me and my facsimile. Or if someone else came in and perceived this to be a compromising situation. I could end up married to him. Married and unmated. Could I accept that? Knowing he might find a mate? Knowing what we had done together while he thought I was Iris? I tugged at the collar of my dress.

“We will keep the door open then.”

I gave the barest nod and invited him to sit. He declined and strode to the window, looking out onto the street, still beating his crop against his thigh. The room was so quiet that one could hear the clock tick. I glanced at it and watched as the time crept on. Five minutes and the hour chimed.

“I have made a decision,” he said. “But, I wanted to see you first. You are close with your twin, are you not?”

“If you mean Iris, I am, your Grace.”

His eyes flashed. “Call me Syon.”

“It would be improper,” I hedged and faced the fire for fear I might give something if I could see him.

“More improper than coming into this room with me?”

“I did not come! You came!“

Roberts returned with the tea tray. We waited again until he had left. I could look anywhere in the room so long as it was not him, and so jumped when I sensed fingers hovering over my shoulder. How I knew that I could not say—except, perhaps my body was attuned to his that even blind and deaf I’d find him in a crowded room. He came nearer until I felt his breath on my neck. He was scenting me. My breasts felt heavy and hot within the confines of my gown. Instinct told me to lean back. Allow this alpha to surround me with his rich aroma. To bare my neck, to entice, to invite him to mark me as his.

“I won’t touch you,” his voice was rich and dark against the shell of my ear. It echoed through me. More seductive for withholding his touch than if he had knotted me. There was a rasp that caused my heart to catch mid beat.

“Your virtue is safe with me,” he purred. “Always. I would never do anything to dishonour one of the Hartwell sisters, you most of all.”

I nearly groaned in frustration. I wanted to scream out that I was his Hartwell. I was the secretary he had been with almost daily since January. I had tasted his cum, touched myself almost every night, burying my face into my pillow to muffle my voice as I called out his name. But to tell him risked everything. No, I could not bear to see his face when he learnt my lies. He would not just cut me in his rage but he would probably destroy all of my sister’s ambitions too. I shook my head to dispel the unjust thoughts. He would not be so cruel as that. He would not... I let out a shuddering breath.

“Have I upset you?” his whisper sent a shiver through me, and I noticed my scent spike with anxiety.

“Upset me, Your Grace?”

“I do not mean to discomfit you… You scent…” he trailed off. How... How could he notice the change in my scent when he couldn’t smell spoilt milk?

“Why are you here?” my voice broke on the question. He’d been pleased to learn I was alone, but why?

“Your sister is wrong.”

“Often,” my laugh was bitter. Full of disgust for my actions, and Iris’s own folly for talking with Syon. “She is… principled, and it can lead her to pig-headedness.”

“At times.”

“Is there a reason you called?” I asked again, for I had not received an answer and the longer I spent in Syon’s company, the greater the risk I would expose myself. Cloves and alpha musk filled my senses. Already I knew the alpha part of him was not indifferent to my omega. But it was not me, the women, he sent heated glances to but my omega. Our dynamics were drawn together. That was all. I could not hope for more. I relaxed when I felt him move away. Only to find him standing in front of me, hands thrust into the pockets of his greatcoat. His brows drawn together in a frown that I longed to smooth away. I hated when he was like this—shut off and frowning—for I could not tell his thoughts when he grew so restlessly quiet. I dreaded what made him so introspective.

“She is wrong to think I shall forgive her not coming to me this morning—never mind that. I had much to think about yesterday. Tell her I will do my own courting from now. And she does not need to come by tomorrow. She is no longer my secretary. I plan to go into the country for a few weeks. She refused my invitation to come with me,” He glanced down at his gloves. I had not noticed he’d removed them. “She should go back to Oxford. Finish her degree. Or if that is not to her liking, then take the Grand Tour. I won’t have the time for her once I am married.”

Tears pricked my eyes. Did he know what he did to me? Shattering my heart. I floundered for an appropriate response. One that would not reveal how effectively he had destroyed my every chance for happiness. I could, I told myself. I could continue at his side as his friend and secretary. He didn’t know my lie but still pushed me away as if I meant nothing to him. But to be repudiated without doing anything wrong near killed me. I wanted to beg. I’d been on my knees before him more than once. Had those times been a lie? Had he used me as I had told him to? Had… Had I meant nothing to him beyond a hand and mouth to fuck because there had been an omega’s scent nearby? A natural response.

“Iris will finish her degree, I believe.” Before he could speak again I rushed on. “Can I offer you tea?”

“Thank you.”

But he would say so since I was already pouring.

My heart stopped when our fingers brushed.

“How did you know how I took my tea,” he asked.

“I... I was not paying attention,” which was true enough. I knew how he liked his tea. Had known for weeks and would have needed to think about it as much as I would need to remember to breathe. I expected him to sit, but he moved to the fireplace and proceeded to stare at me.

“Your eyes are very like hers. I’ve never seen anything like. And now I think perhaps you are... I will be brief. I must let your sister go. I cannot have her…” He put his cup on the mantle and crossed to the door, closing it and locking it. My heartbeat as fast as a rabbit’s. “I cannot have her in my life when I am married, when I am wed. Then I must… It would be… Do you see? I would be... I wouldn’t be able to have her near if I was married to another… She will understand my meaning.”

“You’ve said that already,” my voice sounded choked. “Why must you say it again and again? Why must you do this to me?”

“Do you think I am happy about this?” he snapped.

I did. I didn’t. How could I see when I only wanted to jump up and smooth that frown away with a quip. Tell him there was no need to marry when he had me. Omega, woman. All the traits he so desired in a bride. It would hurt, but I would forgo a mate bond if it meant being by his side. Yet I could not tell him. Never. The words of love and devotion would never be spoken.

“Jack Fordom said you were a dangerous omega. I believe it now more than ever,” Syon continued. “I have insulted you. I beg your pardon. I see you, and she comes to mind. I forget myself,” he growled. I fought the desire to purr, to soothe the monster that prowled behind his facade. As long as I had known him, I had never seen him so at odds with himself. “You are close to her. I need you to tell her… Soften the blow. With her, I have no control. You must make her understand. To woo in my own name. I never should have agreed to this prank of hers.”

“What do you mean by that? I—” The realisation that Iris might have been more indiscreet than she knew drew forth a frown. I had certainly not said anything like that. “I cannot believe that Fordom would bring me up with you.”

“Well, he did. Last night. I will speak to you with gloves off. If I prick you… I mix my metaphors. Words are not my friends when I am in your presence,” the pause pregnant with meaning. He growled and took a step towards me until he stood over me. Instinct had me look up his impressive figure until our eyes met. His gaze heated and confused. Dear Goddess help me. “If I prick you, forgive me. Forgive me my sins, Viola. Though I must set you both at a distance… Tell me… If the world was yours, but the person you loved was out of reach, how would you tell them that you loved them but you must leave them? When you had yet to hold them but knew by the way they moved and smelt that they were the only one for you and you for them? But still, you must set them aside for reasons, principles impossible to ignore. Tell me, Viola, please tell me.”

If I had been an alpha in truth, I would have wanted to order him from my sight. He ran hot one minute, cold the next. But I had cursed myself to hear his half confessions with the ears of Viola. And like Viola, unknown to him an hour before, I must answer him.

“If our positions…” I turned my head, but his gaze made my cheeks blaze hot. How could I be asked to answer this backwards declaration? I could understand why, in theory. He must have an alpha heir, which needed an omega and woman. This was the stuff of romantic tragedies. A bitter thought, since until this moment I had taken myself to be the heroine of a farce. “I don’t know...”

“And what would you say, Viola? Not Iris. I ask you, Viola and omega. Would you tell me to go after what my heart wants? Or must I do my duty? I came here knowing what I must do but am now more confused than ever.”

Too terrified to speak, I stood that I might escape the familiar yet unknown alpha. What would I be able to say? I wanted him to follow his heart so long as that heart led to me. But I was an omega he had just met. He did not know me from Eve. The most he knew was my scent, but what did that matter to a man with no intention of finding a mate? A strangled cry escaped me. I couldn’t.

“I don’t know. Yes. Follow your heart—“

Syon growled and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight, and pulling me closer. “I knew it. I should have… I should have never told you I would leave. I should not have put you through that, Hartwell. Come with me…”

“No,” I panted and tugged at his firm grip. He had discovered me. By accident, to be sure. But he knew. Some primal part of him knew.

Syon dropped my hand as if burnt.

“Damn, I am a cad. A bastard. I beg your pardon, for in the heat of the moment I mistook you—“ he growled, deep and low, but caught my hand in his again. If possible, it seemed he might draw me near, and my body leant towards him. The unmistakable feeling of slick between my thighs. Dammit, but he would discover me…

“Syon!” I whined. “This is not…”

“Viola,” He started when my scent reached him. And I? I stumbled back, landing in an undignified puddle of shame on the floor. He moved like lightning, picking me up, clutching me close even as his words pushed me away. “I leave you now. I must clear my head… You understand. Of course, you do. I’ll be at Ayleigh… That’s in Oxfordshire.”

A kind of energy like the nervous excitement of riding a young horse towards a fence raced through me. Knowing that you would throw your heart over and make the jump and continue to gallop on to the next field. But not knowing if the horse could take it, or would throw you to the ground. My heart pounded like the horse’s hooves and I was not focused on the rapidly disappearing ground between us but on the field beyond. I’d already thrown my heart over, I’d already committed to my actions, and there would be no going back. I didn’t think about the consequences, I’d accept them. I had to. Because I felt his cock pressed hard against his breeches. I needed to hold that hard length in my hand, weigh it, measure it against my palm, my arm for it was certainly longer than my hand. I’d tasted but I’d not yet explored. Dear Goddess, what was I thinking? Why was I so desperate to humiliate myself like this? Some fever in the brain.

He spun away from me. Putting space between us, moving towards the door, leaving me forever.

But tripping, like the prisoner towards the gallows, my feet, ‘gainst my will, dragged me towards him. His growl warned me off. Instead, it worked on me as a siren’s call beckoning me closer. Perhaps we could somehow convince our fevered brains that this was just bodies. I had to convince myself it was just bodies. That I was merely a tool for him to use.

“Syon... You... You need to tell me to stop.”

I rested my head against his broad, powerful back, breathed in the smell of him, raw and alpha. His body shuddered with each breath and two large hands gripped my wrists when I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“I know. Just...” I took a stammering breath. I needed this to be something we both wanted too much to ignore. “Just use my hands. Imagine. They... You need relief.”

“Yes,” his whispered plea broke my heart.

Blindly, I struggled with the fastenings. Blindly, I reached for him. Blindly, I felt how his hot length sprang free and bobbed in the cool air.

I grasped it at the root, just above the swollen knot.

“I need to see,” I told his back, my nose tracing up his spine. “Tell me you want this.”

“I do,” he growled but did not let me go. He would not let me see him. I stepped into his back, pressing him into my embrace until there was no way he could escape me. Of course, he was stronger, perfectly capable of setting me aside—but he didn’t. I had never felt more powerful or more pathetic. This alpha, so impressive and so very much at my mercy but who did not want me as I wanted him. He might be hard, but that was my omega scent and nothing more. What I wanted from him was far harder to give—his mate mark. My breath came hot and fast on his back as my hands gripped his cock and gave it sure strokes up and down while squeezing his knot.

As he came in my hand, he spoke my name like a prayer. “Viola.”

We stood there for an unknown amount of time. He wiped my hands with a handkerchief and stepped away from me. I wanted to stop him. My omega rebelled at the thought of his seed going to waste when I could spread it on my skin or better still lick and suck it from my fingers. I turned my head away, embarrassed. Afraid he would see the tears falling down my face. That he would think I was disgusting, an untouched omega helping to his orgasm. I needed to tell him now. After what had happened, I had to tell him.

“Syon, it is me… I am,” my head jerked up at the sound of the door slamming.

He had already left, even as I was about to confess.

Viola fell silent and, like one possessed, went to the window to watch the clouds come in. It is like to rain, she thought.