Chapter Nine
Noah felt like time kept slowing down and speeding up. One minute he was locked in that room. Then he was standing in front of Bobby again, this time with Ronan at his back. And then he was outside, in the dark, staring dumbly at the motorcycle Ronan was straddling.
“You’ll have to climb on behind me,” the alpha said. Noah went to do that, only for the alpha’s jacket to slip off his shoulders and to the ground. He went to pick it up, hearing a growl of frustration before Ronan was there, yanking the jacket from his grasp. Despite how angry the alpha sounded, he was patient as he helped Noah get his arms into the sleeves. The jacket was much too big for him, but it was warm, and it smelled like Ronan. To Noah, that was all that mattered.
Minutes later, he was sitting on the bike behind Ronan, clinging tightly to the alpha as they sped along the road. The winds whipped against him and he huddled closer to the alpha’s back, using his body to shield himself from the worst of the weather. He didn’t know where they were going and what would happen when he got there, but there was a part of him that didn’t care. He was with the alpha and away from that terrible place that had almost become his life. And maybe he’d just stepped from frying pan to fire. Or maybe he’d just been saved. Only time would tell.
Noah didn’t know how, but he slept on the back of the bike, exhaustion winning out over fear.
He woke to a hand shaking him.
“Hey, we’re here.”
It was light out, early morning, just after dawn. They were stopped in front of an old wrought iron gate beside tall stone walls. Ronan reached toward the wall and pushed back a few leaves of ivy, revealing an intercom. He pressed a button and waited.
Nothing happened for what seemed like ages, and then a voice spoke.
“Yes?”
“Honey, I’m home,” Ronan said cheerfully.
“What?” the voice said irritably. “You need an invitation?”
“I’ve brought a guest,” the alpha said, with a quick glance over his shoulder at Noah.
“Guest?” the voice repeated flatly.
“An omega,” Ronan added. Noah wasn’t sure, but he thought the alpha looked uncertain, wary, even though his tone was light, almost playful.
“You’d best come in then.”
The voice cut off and a grinding sound started, the gates opening. Noah was surprised. They looked old, too old to be mechanized. And yet they were.
“Where are we?” he asked as Ronan drove them through the gates. The view ahead was obscured by trees. But as they followed the path around a bend, the trees fell away, revealing an old, majestic building.
“Welcome to Briar House,” the alpha said.
They pulled up in front of the door, and Noah climbed off the back of the bike, his body stiff.
“What is this place?” he asked, looking up and up to the top of the building.
“My home. And yours too, if things go to plan.”
Noah pulled the jacket tighter around himself and sighed. He wasn’t sure what Ronan meant by things going to plan, but as someone who constantly failed to measure up to people’s expectations, it didn’t sound good.
“Come on, let’s get inside.”
The door opened before they reached it, a curious shifter peering out at them.
“I thought Griffin was joking about a tagalong,” the young man said, eying Noah with suspicion. “He sounds pissed. That could just be you waking him up at the crack of dawn, though.”
“Nice to see you too, Mark. This is Noah.”
Noah tried to smile in greeting, but his face felt stiff. He had the urge to stare at his feet and wish the world to swallow him up. It had never worked before, but an omega could hope, couldn’t he?
“Griffin wants to see you. Said to put him,” Mark jerked his head toward Noah, “in the library.”
Mark shut the door behind them, locking it securely while Noah looked around, taking in his surroundings.
“Noah.” He jerked his attention back to Ronan, finding the alpha halfway down the corridor opposite the entrance. Hurrying to catch up with him, he glanced back toward Mark, but the shifter was gone. So much for first impressions. Noah felt he’d done a good imitation of a fish; mouth opening and closing and not a sound escaping.
Ronan slowed to a stop and pulled open a heavy door.
“In here,” he said, catching Noah by the arm, and pushing him across the threshold.
“I’ll be back soon,” the alpha said before the door shut in his face. He heard the scrape of a lock but still tried the handle, surprised that they would lock him in. The door didn’t budge.
Pivoting slowly around, he found his eyes drawn upward once more. Wow. Everywhere he looked, there were books. Shelves of them. The room was easily twice the height of a normal room, with a balcony on the second level, running right the way around it, containing yet more shelves. Here and there were comfortable looking armchairs, some small tables, a chess table with two seats and a game already in play. There was even a large fireplace with two armchairs and a sofa in front of it and a rug laid out in front of the hearth.
It was like something out of a story. A fairytale. And yet the ground felt all too real beneath his feet. He stole silently around the room, looking at everything, one finger trailing lightly along the edge of the shelves, gliding across the spines of books. He even risked picking up one of the chess pieces, made of some kind of dark wood, carved in intricate detail.
From his first impression of Ronan, he’d assumed the alpha was from a pack like his. But this… his pack had money, and with money came status, respect, power. All the things Noah’s pack lacked. What the hell did Ronan want with him, when he could have any omega he wanted? It didn’t make any sense.
There was a sort of stair-come-ladder leading up to the balcony, but he didn’t go up there, contenting himself with the ground floor. Between two bookshelves, he found another door, but this too was locked. Starting to feel a little closed in, he went to the nearest window and tried to open it. At first, he thought it was sealed, then jammed, until finally, he realized it was just heavy. With a bit of effort, he managed to open it, sighing as a cool breeze from outside played across his skin.
Speaking of his skin, he looked particularly grimy, thanks to many hours of travel, not to mention the terror and fear from being locked in that room. He was sure Ronan would want him to have a shower before they… finalized their understanding. Part of Noah’s brain argued that this wasn’t any different from what had nearly happened to him in Bobby’s casino. Another part refuted that this was different. Noah was choosing this, choosing Ronan, and giving himself to the arrangement of his own free will. That had to be better than what his pack had had in mind for him.
Everything in the library looked just a little too clean, and he was half-afraid to sit anywhere in case he dirtied it. But his legs tired quickly and he soon found himself perched right on the edge of a straight-backed chair, struggling to keep his eyes open and not give into the lure of sleep.
He swore his eyes had only been closed for a moment, and yet somehow Ronan had managed to sneak in and materialize right in front of him without him noticing. Noah scanned his face, trying to work out from the alpha’s expression if things with Griffin had gone well or not. But Ronan’s face was surprisingly neutral.
“Griffin wants to see you,” was all he said.
Noah climbed to his feet, rubbing a fist across his tired eyes. He was not in any state to be meeting the head of Ronan’s pack. This alpha was going to take one look at him, catch his scent, and chase him away like the gutter rat he so clearly was. But maybe that was the game Ronan and Griffin played, Ronan bringing home potential mates he knew the alpha would never accept.
He didn’t catch so much as a glimpse of any other room as Ronan led him onward. Every door in their path was shut. He wondered if that was normal or by design. They clearly didn’t want him wandering about. So, what was it they were hiding? Or was it just typical upper-class pack behavior where someone of Noah’s standing was branded a criminal almost just for existing.
“Up here,” Ronan said, directing him toward a staircase. They climbed up and up again, stopping on the third floor. The door ahead, leading to a corridor, was already open, inviting them inside.
Something changed once they were through the doorway. The scent in the air, the colors of the walls, the carpet beneath his feet. He felt like he’d stepped into another house and suspected, if the door behind them was closed, he’d believe it even easier.
Ronan put a hand on his shoulder to stop him as they reached the end of the corridor. Only one door remained, right in front of them. The alpha reached around him to open it, leaning close to Noah as he did and murmuring quietly to him.
“Just be honest. That’s all he wants.”
Noah nodded, his voice caught in his throat, as Ronan pushed the door open.
The alpha had to nudge him forward, Noah’s legs reluctant to move. But move he did, until he was through the door and face-to-face with… a mirror. A large, floor-length mirror that seemed to take up half the wall. His own grimy reflection stared back at him and he raised a hand to try to smooth down his hair before jerking his gaze away. He hated mirrors. All they did was remind him of what he was. And what he wasn’t.
A sound to his left had him turning around to take in the rest of the room. The floors were bare, polished wood, and the windows floor-length, like the mirror. The room was larger than he’d expected, almost as if two rooms had been knocked into one. At the far end, in an armchair, a man sat reading. Ronan turned Noah that direction and encouraged him onward. When he was halfway across the room, the shifter put down the book and regarded him with sharp eyes.
“Griffin, this is Noah,” Ronan said, his hand giving Noah’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Noah, this is our leader, Griffin.”
The shifter got up and stalked toward them, closing the distance between them rapidly. Though Noah’s instincts were screaming at him to run he knew the respect due to a pack’s alpha by an omega. As gracefully as he could manage, he went down on his knees.
“Al—” he started to say in greeting only to do a double-take. Griffin’s scent wasn’t that of an alpha, nowhere near it. But it couldn’t be possible, could it? An omega pack leader?
He glanced back over his shoulder at Ronan, asking the alpha a silent question. The alpha smirked and nodded his head, exchanging a look of exasperation with Griffin over Noah’s head. “Every. Single. Time.”
Noah turned back around, dropping his eyes to his hands which were gripping his knees tightly.
“I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he offered as the scent of the omega surrounded him.
A hand slid into his hair, gripping it tightly and tugging, urging Noah’s gaze up. Griffin stared down at him, his dark blue eyes a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Noah stared back at the omega, impassively, feeling the strength in Griffin’s grip and tasting the tension in the air. Griffin’s hand tightened, and Noah made a small sound under his breath. Behind him, Ronan moved closer, and the tension ratcheted up a notch. He had the sense it wasn’t so much about him as it was about Griffin and Ronan.
Abruptly, Griffin let go and Noah gratefully let his gaze fall, gulping in a deep breath. Griffin’s hands cupped his cheek, touch gentle, stroking a thumb across Noah’s cheekbone.
“He’s pretty,” he said, and it was clear he was talking to Ronan.
“He is,” the alpha agreed.
Griffin’s hand left his cheek and moved backward, slipping behind his neck. Noah, having long had an aversion to his scars being touched, jerked forward, making a low sound of protest under his throat.
The other omega shushed him, soft fingers pressing across the nape of his neck. Noah forced himself to stay still and bear it, realizing that if Ronan’s leader had been an alpha, this was the least kind of inspection he could expect.
Finally, it was over, Griffin letting go and taking a step back, giving Noah a chance to breathe again. Until he heard the omega’s next words.
“Bed him, bite him, mate him. And then we’ll talk. Until then, he doesn’t leave your rooms.”
Frying pan, meet fire.