Page 2 of The Runaway

Across the farmyard, there was a stable and a barn, and a collection of sheds that were most likely used to store food and tools for the farm. The place looked neat and peaceful, and even from this distance, Gabriel could see several people wandering about, seeing to their chores. They moved calmly and purposefully, neither rushed nor harried in their work.

But appearances could be deceiving, and he was taking nothing for granted until he learned more about this property.

Bracing himself, he started forward again, placing one foot steadily in front of the other. One of the men in the farmyard saw him coming and paused to offer him a shout and a wave, before rushing off – no doubt to go and fetch Antoine and let him know their visitor had arrived. Well, it was too late to change his mind now.

By the time Gabriel reached the house, news of his arrival had spread, and a small group of people were gathered near the front door. One of the men strode forward to greet him, with dark skin and an easy smile. Gabriel had known that Antoine was adopted, but his colouring was a clear indication of foreign origins, and a part of him was surprised that Christophe would have chosen a son to inherit his estate who bore so little physical resemblance to himself. But of far more interest to Gabriel was the man’s temperament, rather than his physical appearance.

“Good afternoon,” Gabriel greeted him as he came to a stop in front of him. “Gabriel Calvet. You must be Antoine.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you at last,” Antoine said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “My father told me a lot about you. He held you in very high regard. Welcome to the Calvet estate.” Antoine was just a fraction shorter than Gabriel, with a lean, solid build that implied he worked hard on this estate, rather than merely issuing orders to his underlings like a noble ruling his subjects.

Antoine turned to the man beside him. This second man was a few inches taller than Gabriel, with an impressive mass of muscle. His skin was lighter than Antoine’s, but still darker than the average Frenchman. He was likely Spanish or Italian, Gabriel surmised. But he bore two noticeable scars on his face, one across his nose and another on his jaw, and Gabriel felt his heart sink. He looked an entirely rough sort of man, no doubt used to brawling, and Gabriel dreaded to think what that would mean for the state of the house as a whole.

“This is Dante,” Antoine said, clear pride in his voice as he introduced the man. “He’s my bonded omega.”

His what? Gabriel did a double take, much to Dante’s amusement. This man was an omega? How was that possible? He had the strength and stature of an alpha. But now that he was looking, Gabriel could see the telltale black swirls of a tattoo creeping up Dante’s neck. All omegas were tattooed with their master’s insignia, a clear statement of legal ownership.

But the other part of Antoine’s description was equally shocking. “Bonded?” Gabriel blurted out, realising a moment too late that the blunt statement could be taken as being quite rude.

Antoine smiled indulgently. “I was probably as surprised as you are, when it happened. It wasn’t something I’d ever expected, but there it is.” For an alpha and an omega to bond was a rare and precious gift. The emotional and chemical tie only took place when there was absolute trust and respect between the pair, and to know that Antoine had somehow managed to bond with his omega spoke volumes for the man’s character. No omega would ever enter into such a bond with an abusive master.

Gabriel took another look at Dante. The usual habit of an omega was to stare politely at the ground, meek and eager to serve. But Dante held his head high, looking Gabriel in the eye, though he looked relaxed and comfortable, with no hint of defiance in his expression. And oddly, Gabriel felt his entire body relax as he took in that direct and confident look. Thank God. If Antoine was bonded, then Gabriel had nothing to fear from this estate, no reason to believe that Antoine was anything other than the same compassionate man his father had been.

“It’s an honour to meet you,” Gabriel said, offering his hand for Dante to shake. He did, though he seemed aware that the gesture was an incongruous one. Alphas did not shake omegas’ hands. They were generally not considered worthy of such attention and respect.

“And this is Niles,” Antoine went on, turning to the next man and making no comment about Gabriel’s behaviour. “He’s the first alpha.” The title meant that he was next in line to inherit the property after Antoine, second in charge on the estate. Niles was tall and lean, likely no more than nineteen or twenty years old, with a boyish smile and dark hair that fell into his eyes. “And this is young Lucas,” Antoine said, turning to the third man with him. Lucas looked nervous, though he was trying to hide it. “He presented as an alpha only a few months ago. He’s just turned seventeen.”

“Congratulations,” Gabriel said woodenly, knowing it was the appropriate response. Having one of the children on an estate present as an alpha was seen as a noteworthy achievement, strengthening the estate and assuring the future line of succession. But in Gabriel’s eyes, it was just one more alpha to oppress those below him and claim a leading spot in society without having done anything to earn it.

“Thank you,” Lucas said, blushing bright red. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You must be tired,” Antoine said. “I trust you had a good trip?”

“Long, but uneventful,” Gabriel said. “I took a carriage into town, then walked from there.”

Antoine’s eyebrows rose. “You walked? Good heavens. You must be exhausted!”

Gabriel merely shrugged. It had been a long walk, two hours from where the carriage had dropped him off, but the owner of the carriage had been going in a different direction, and that was as close as he’d been able to bargain for a ride. But he’d grown accustomed to walking long distances in the army. He didn’t see anything exceptional about it.

“Well, let’s get you settled in and then you can rest before dinner. This is Carolyn,” Antoine said, waving a middle-aged woman forward. “She’s the head housekeeper. She’ll show you to your room and arrange a bath. Dinner is at seven o’clock. You can find me in the study if you need anything.”

???

Hours later, Gabriel sat at the long table in the dining room of the main house, feeling awkward and out of place. In the military, life had been dictated by rank, rather than gender – assuming you weren’t an omega, of course – and as a mere sergent, he’d never earned any particular privileges. So it was odd to be sitting in an opulent dining room, being served by betas who had been members of this house for far longer than he had.

To his left sat Niles, and to the left of him was Lucas. Niles had apparently come in from working in the paddocks not too long ago, and there was still dirt smeared on his trousers. But nobody seemed bothered by it, and the lack of protocol for dressing for dinner was a relief. Gabriel himself had put on a clean set of clothes, not because he wanted to impress anyone, but because his old set had been travel-stained and filthy.

In the seat opposite him, Antoine was calmly tucking into his meal, with Dante sitting beside him. The omega’s manners were perfect, and he seemed entirely at ease to be eating his evening meal with the alphas of the house, almost as if he was one of them. In his twenty-seven years on earth, Gabriel had never seen such a thing.

But then again, he’d never met a bonded omega before, either. Were all bonded omegas treated this way? It was refreshing to see, but also confusing, long years of culturally ingrained customs clashing with his own more recently developed views on the matter.

But even more odd was the fact that Antoine wasn’t sitting at the head of the table, as the master of the house normally would. Was it because his father had not long passed and he didn’t want to be seen as ‘replacing’ him? Or did he simply not see the need for overt displays of his own position?

“I don’t see why I can’t invite her just once every now and then,” Niles was saying, having boldly stated just a few minutes ago that he wished to invite Adalene, his personal omega, to dine with them. “I’m not saying it would be every night. Just once a week. Once a month, even.”

Gabriel was rather perplexed by the request. In most families, it wouldn’t even be considered for an omega to sit at the table with the alphas. On this estate, he’d learned through a short conversation with Antoine, the betas ate in a communal dining room off one of the cottages, and the omegas ate in the kitchen, once everyone else’s meals had been served, eaten and cleared away. But Dante’s presence at the table was clearly blurring the usual boundaries.

“You have not yet bonded with Adalene,” Antoine said calmly, taking a sip of his wine. “And she will therefore not be joining us at this table until such time as you have.”