Page 25 of First (After the End #1)

THE MOTHER

Sofia

Sunlight filters through the water, bathing Gabriel’s bed in a golden glow.

I wake up, gradually, and before even opening my eyes, I become aware of the slight change in the hum of the environmental controls.

They’re whirring at a higher frequency, working more intensely, as always when dealing with a rising High.

There is a warm body next to mine. It was there throughout the night, stroking me, holding me, playing with my hair, pressing kisses in odd, hidden places—the inside of my elbow, the top of my sternum, the dip of my lower back.

Once or twice, even my mouth. Gabriel hates sleeping on soft surfaces, that much is obvious.

And yet, I suspect he hated the idea of sleeping away from me even more.

With a small, tired smile, I reach across the mattress, expecting to come across a solid stretch of muscles. But when I encounter it, I find it remarkably hairier than before.

So hairy, my eyelids flutter open.

Alex is staring at me with an outraged expression, and I instantly snatch my hand back. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I thought you were… You really shouldn’t eat me. I’m too gamey to be enjoyable and—”

“Lady Larsen,” says a voice from behind me.

I roll to my back to find Bastian, who is also staring at me.

Clearly, watching me is this morning’s official pastime.

With a tug on the blankets to cover my chest, I ask, “What is, um, going on?”

“Your mate is here. It’s time to go home.”

I sit up. Run a hand through the mess of my hair as I glance around. “Gabriel?”

“The general already left.” There is a tinge of pity in Bastian’s eyes.

A touch of commiseration that could be related to the overwhelming scent of what obviously happened here last night, to his perception that I was forced to do something I didn’t want, or to my obvious dismay at Gabriel’s absence.

Martia’s Omega seems to have gone from despising me to feeling sorry for me, and I hate it.

I had the night of my life, thank you very much, I want to yell. I came about thirty times. I feel as if my body really belongs to me for the first time since I presented. Don’t look at me like that, you jackass.

I refrain from screaming at the seneschal. Instead I pull the covers higher and ask, “Is Gabriel okay with me…?”

“His Right has been exhausted. Not only are you free to leave, but you must.”

“Shouldn’t I wait for him to return?”

“I fail to see why,” the seneschal says, that hint of pity morphing into outright condolences.

“Great,” I say, sitting up in the bed, trying not to think about last night. About all the things he said. About the fact that when he woke up earlier this morning, he looked at me and decided to leave without feeling the need to exchange any last words.

Do you want to go back to him?

I said yes. That appears to be all there is to it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, happy with how firm my voice sounds. Bile churns in my throat. “I would like some privacy to change back into my mating dress.”

* * *

Lennart cannot meet my eyes, not for the entire trip from Gabriel’s chambers to the Larsen wing.

I try to excuse his behavior, telling myself that being a Beta makes the situation exponentially worse for him.

His inability to inhale my scent, deconstruct its layers, and inspect each note for clues of what was done to me in the last forty-eight hours forces his imagination to run amok, unconstrained by any boundaries.

It doesn’t help that the four guards his father sent to escort us are all Alphas. The knowledge that they can speculate with some accuracy on the nature of what occurred fills the heavy silence as we step down the stone corridors.

And there’s the fact that my newfound sensitivity to scents isn’t going anywhere.

I half thought that it was a product of being temporarily in a unfamiliar setting, but I find myself able to easily pick up traces that just a few days ago would have been impossible.

From the taller Alpha in the group, there is the lingering note of a female Omega on her clothes, as if they were handled by her partner.

The older man smells as though he shares quarters with a large family of mixed designations. And Lennart…

“Lennart,” I murmur in the elevator, an attempt at communicating with him as his father’s guards stand behind us.

“Not now,” he bites out angrily, staring straight ahead.

I wonder who, exactly, his rage is directed at.

For the first time ever, I have an opportunity to analyze his Beta scent, which is profoundly fine.

Not bad by any means, but difficult to muster any feeling over.

It’s ever been an issue, since I couldn’t tease apart subtle smells, but now that my nose is working overtime, all I can think about is how deliciously perfect Gabriel smelled, and—

Don’t compare him to Gabriel, I order myself.

There was no sign of him as Bastian and his soldiers escorted me outside.

When Gabriel offered for me to stay, he was probably just playing some kind of mind game.

Drawing a comparison between Lennart and Gabriel is pointless, but if I must, I should just focus on one simple truth: Lennart would never force another man’s mate to do whatever it is that happened last night.

The fact that Gabriel didn’t have to force me—that I enjoyed it, that I asked for most aspects of it—is beyond the point. I will feel guilty about that for the rest of my natural life.

The moment we step into Lennart’s quarters, I turn to him, feeling a surge of indignation toward this man who swore to love me and protect me forever, no matter what, during our mating ceremony not forty-eight hours ago.

This man who is showing very little concern for my well-being.

After I was taken against my will.

To settle a score between his father and the general.

Not only has Lennart not asked me if I’m injured, he also looks actively upset at me, as though he’s the real victim of the past two days. “Are you angry at me?” I ask.

He purses his lips. “I came to take you back, last night.”

“I heard. But I—”

“Was sleeping, yes.” He seems to be looking anywhere but at me. “That was not a wise choice, Sofia. My father was enraged. It made it look like you actually wanted to be there, with that monster.”

My eyebrow lifts. I fold my arms to my chest. “Lennart,” I say calmly, “I am going to pretend that you didn’t just blame me for having been taken by an enemy of your family. Would you like to start again?”

His laugh is incredulous. “Start again? Do you understand the position you put us in? You made us look like we have no power when facing the general. We used to be the greatest House in the stronghold, and now the other nobles are actively siding with the military over us. My father is going to—”

“Why don’t you talk less about your father and start by asking me how I feel?”

His eyes widen.

When he finally meets my gaze, I take a step forward, letting my rage boil out of me.

“I was given no choice but to spend two nights with a man I barely know, and you are concerned about your family’s reputation over my safety?

You didn’t even ask if I was hurt. I could be bleeding, or traumatized, or in need of medical attention, but you wouldn’t even know that because you care so little about me that—”

“Sof! You’re here!” A flurry of movement bursts into the room, and then a pair of strong arms press me into a soft body.

“Lara,” I say, nearly inhaling a mouthful of her hair and returning her hug.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I…” It feels like I’m meeting her for the first time. Her scent is beautiful, flowery, and zesty. Indisputably Alpha.

All these years of being friends, and I cannot fathom how I missed it.

“Let me take care of you.” She pulls back with a smile. Her hand tugs mine, coaxing me toward the door. “You need a bath. A real one—no sonic. You’ll feel cleaner that way.”

“Lara,” Lennart tells his sister through gritted teeth, “not now. We’re busy with—”

“You may not realize this, Lennart, given that you have no olfaction whatsoever, but Sof needs a bath now,” she hisses at her brother. The subtext is so obvious, he doesn’t object to her dragging me toward her room.

And given my current feelings toward Lennart, a break from each other is probably the best for us.

I wonder whether I can confide in Lara. Tell her the truth about what happened.

Sure, she’s sometimes unable to stand up to her family, but she’s always been just as much my friend as Lennart’s sister.

This may be what I really need—to be told by someone rational, someone who can understand Alpha-Omega dynamics, that Gabriel is a piece of shit, that what he did was wrong, that it matters nothing whether he smells good or doesn’t.

When the metal door to her room slides closed and she turns to me, I’ve made up my mind to be honest with her.

But she must have done the same, because she clutches my upper arm, and with her head bent toward mine, she whispers, “You are in danger.”

I swallow. “It’s fine. It wasn’t as bad as you probably think. The general—”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s my family that is the danger.” Her eyes are shiny, like she’s on the brink of tears. There are dark circles around them, but her expression is determined. “Your scent has changed. Significantly.”

“I know. Gabriel and I—”

“No, Sof.” She takes both my hands in hers. “Your scent has changed. You no longer smell like a Beta. It’s like you just went through presenting all over again, only this time for real. Are your glands itching?”

“No,” I say automatically. But then my hand finds the side of my neck. “Maybe just a little, but—”

“That’s good. It means you’re not too close to a heat.”

“Close to a what?” Laughter dies in my throat when I notice how serious her expression is.