Page 89
Story: Fawn
Nox doesn’t speak much—he does a lot of brooding. He also showed his card this morning, and although he hasn’t fucked Fawn yet, I can tell he’s obsessed as the rest of us are.
“What?” Seven says, looking between Nox and me.
“You were doing that thing again,” Nox says, drawing a seat up to my right. Eiden sits to his right, Seven to his right, forming a semi-circle around the front of the constable’s desk.
“What thing?” Seven asks, brows pulling together.
“The polite courtesy thing that comes across more like an order that carries the pain of death should the subject not comply,” Eiden offers.
I’ve got Eiden pinned down. It’s not hard when he wears his heart on his sleeve. Despite his shifted stag being the biggest motherfucker I’ve ever seen and his human form being likewise huge, he is sweet and eager to please and further hates any conflict.
“I don’t do that,” Seven says, sounding deeply affronted.
“You, ah, do that,” Ambrose says, scratching absently at his jaw. “Youarethe Master Stag.”
“We’ve left the brat alone for a long time,” Nox says bluntly, making an abrupt subject change. “She has a bigger nose fortrouble than Eiden when he’s in one of his unruly moods. Can we skip to the details of why we are here?”
“I’m right here,” Eiden mutters.
“Was she alright when you left her?” I ask Seven, feeling instantly anxious. Nox has her measure. Her propensity to find trouble anywhere is nothing short of legendary. “Did she look like she might be plotting something?”
“She was fine,” Seven says.
Fine?! “What the fuck does that mean?” Did he even pleasure her? Seven is… Well, he’s Seven, and although last night was wild, he can also be a little aloof to the point of cold. That won’t do for Fawn. She needs love, affection, and cuddles. She is a cuddle kind of girl, for sure. That’s why I put her on his lap.
“I fucked her over the table,” Seven says. “I admit I had doubts when I first considered it, but I’m warming to the rustic appeal. She was all soft and sated after. It was a struggle to leave her, truth be told.”
Nox chuckles darkly. “Well and truly cracked.”
Seven fixes him with a haughty glare.
The constable clears his throat. “I believe you were going to offer Jude a job?”
“What job?” I ask, momentarily distracted from all things Fawn.
“Assisting me in my role as constable,” Ambrose says. “I broke my leg last fall, and it hasn’t been right since. To be blunt, I could use some help. The intention is not to throw you in at the deep end. You would shadow me for a while. But I envision you picking up many of the duties regarding the management of the palace guards. We have a good number of mature guards and plenty of young stags with more energy than sense. I believe the role would not be dissimilar to that of a pack enforcer. And it helps if you are impartial.”
“You mean because I’m not a stag?”
He nods. “When I first arrived, my only desire was to be the alpha to my two mates. It’s a complex tale as to how I mated them both, and not without its challenges, for they are the worst kind of pack creatures when they want something.” His smile is rueful. “They both want me to relinquish some of my duties. My knee is fucking agony if I spend too much time on my feet or on a horse. We have grandchildren. And well, a lot of changes all around. As soon as I met you, I recognized your air of authority. But I also saw a lot of me in you—the way it was when I first arrived.” He glances over at Seven. “When I mentioned to Seven that I thought you might be good in the role, he suggested I ask you.”
“Think about it,” Seven says to me.
It’s a lot to take in. But I already know the answer. “I would love to.”
“Excellent,” Seven says. “Now, Eiden, if you would not mind passing a message on to my sister, Estelle, then we shall meet you back at my quarters.”
Eiden rises with a slight frown. I am likewise confused by Seven’s dismissal of him.
He leaves.
The door closes.
Seven passes me a scroll.
I take it, my frown deepening as I read. “This plot has something to do with Eiden?” I surmise.
Nox nods. “His brothers. They are bastards with blood on their minds. His family treated him like an animal, tossing scraps for him to eat off the floor. Encouraged the others in the herd to do the same. He was beaten, abused, and half-starved. Omegas, especially male ones, are not always revered. His stag must have been gentle once, as all omegas are, but their cruelty twisted him up and broke him down—they turned him feral.”
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