Chapter Fourteen
They broke for lunch, Ronan happy that they were making some progress. It wasn’t just Noah being comfortable with the mirror, it was him being more comfortable in his own skin. While he knew one morning wouldn’t change that, he felt like they’d made a start.
Going downstairs to the main kitchen to get some supplies, he met his brother, Quinn, in the corridor.
“Hey, I heard you were back. How are things going with the omega? Noah, right?”
Quinn seemed cautiously curious which meant that word had gotten around, as expected, that they were still waiting on Griffin’s approval.
“We’re getting to know one another.”
“That sounds promising.” Quinn hesitated like there was something else he wanted to say.
“What?” Ronan asked.
“I got the impression from Mark that it was kind of a long shot, you and Noah, and that’s why Griffin’s being such a stick-in-the-mud.”
Stick up his ass was more like it, Ronan thought, though he didn’t say it.
“It’s not going to be easy.”
“But it’s possible? Mark said there was scarring on the omega’s neck.”
Trust Mark to spot that.
“Well, we’d know all about scars, wouldn’t we?” Ronan said, trying to keep his temper.
“Hey,” Quinn held his hands up, palms out. “You’re my brother, I’m on your side. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“We just need some time.” And maybe a minor miracle. Was that too much to ask?
“Mark said he was a looker. Dark hair, dark eyes. Just your type, right?”
“Right. He’s… I’ve never met an omega that I wanted so badly, bro. If we can’t make it work, and Griffin wants him gone, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
Quinn clapped him on the shoulder. “If anyone can make this work, you can. Other people give up. Not you. Ever.”
Someone called Quinn from the other end of the corridor.
“I’ve got to go. And you’d better be getting back to your soon-to-be mate.” Quinn moved past him before calling back over his shoulder. “You should talk to Kitty, she knows a little something about mating and scars.”
Ronan snorted at that and went on his way, gathering some food for their lunch and heading back upstairs. Kitty was… old and a little senile. At least, she always gave that impression. He couldn’t imagine what she’d know… except she was old, and she’d lived in a large pack. He didn’t know which one exactly, but from how she talked sometimes, he suspected it was one of the upper-class ones. The ones where certain rituals might have been observed. Huh, maybe it was worth talking to her after all.
Leaving Noah in his small kitchen to rustle up some lunch, he headed out to the back of the house to find her. When it wasn’t raining or cold, Kitty could usually be found out in the gardens. She had her own herb garden which she spent a lot of time and effort cultivating. It came in handy sometimes.
At first, he thought she wasn’t there, but then he saw movement from the corner of his eye and spotted her on her knees behind a bush, rose clippers in one hand.
“Hey, Kitty.”
“Ronan.” She glanced up at him before turning her attention back to her work.
“Quinn suggested I talk to you about a… situation I’m in the middle of.”
“The omega. I heard. Why me?”
He walked over to stand next to her before moving to a crouch.
“Noah has some scarring across the back of his neck. He seems to believe it means he can’t take a mate.”
“As we both know, scarring isn’t usually an impedance to mating,” she replied, clipping a piece of bramble with large thorns, and pulling it free. “Unless that was its purpose.”
“His is quite extensive; it covers the whole nape of his neck.”
“Was it deliberate? Did his pack mean for him to be trained?”
There was a tradition, in the more affluent packs, of sending omegas to certain training schools to be the shifter equivalent of concubines. Scarring the neck to prevent mating was part of that.
“No, I don’t believe so. From the looks of it, he was attacked. The scars extend right down his back. Do you think there’s any way…”
“When I was a little girl, there was an older boy in my pack. An omega. He was beautiful, graceful, with a face like an angel. He fell in love with the alpha son of our neighboring pack. But, his pack alpha had chosen him to be sent away, because they believed he’d be much more useful to them trained.”
“What happened to him?”
“He was scarred during a pack ritual and sent away to the omega house for training. But the alpha went after him. They ran away together. Everyone believed it would come to nothing, that they’d be back a few weeks later, their tails between their legs. The alpha boy would get a slap on the wrist, and the omega would be sent back to training.”
“But that’s not what happened.”
“Eight months later they returned, mated, the omega heavy with child. There was nothing either pack could do but accept the bond.”
“So how did they mate? How did they work around the scars?”
“All I know is that they were deeply in love. The kind that doesn’t let go, even when you’re separated by circumstance and distance. The kind that breaks down walls, that sees through scars.”
Kitty pushed to her feet, staring down at him. “Of course, even though their love was strong, his scars were also new. It’s possible that’s why they were able to mate despite everything.”
“So, Noah’s scars being years old might mean we’re out of luck?”
Kitty stared at him for a long moment before tucking her clippers into a pocket of her garden smock and beckoning him to follow her.
“Long before I came here, I worked with a small group that helped liberate unhappy omegas from their circumstances. There was a doctor who worked with the group. He had an interest in healing and regeneration and he tried to undo the damage done by the scarring.”
“Did he have much success?”
She laughed, opening the door to her shed. “That depends on what you mean by success. He discovered much that didn’t work, from simply cutting out the scar tissue to attempting to burn it away using chemicals. We did discover one thing that showed some promise, quite by accident.”
She began to rummage through some bottles and vials, opening them and sniffing their contents.
“All we were doing was trying to lessen the pain of those he was experimenting on. We found that a mixture of aloe vera with a number of oils promoted healing but, of course, the scarring always came back. Their bodies believed the scars were normal after so long.”
“Then why was the mixture helpful?” Ronan couldn’t see where she was going with the story.
“Two of the omegas who’d volunteered for testing were already in relationships with alphas. When we applied the ointment to one of them it seemed to… trigger something. Within a matter of days, they were able to mate.”
“What about the other couple? Did it work for them?”
“We never had time to find out. Our safe house was discovered, and we were forced to leave. I didn’t see either of them again.”
By now, she had three bottles lined up in a row on the table and had put a bowl in the center. She poured something from each of them into it, then mixed it carefully. The scent from the bowl was strong but not unpleasant.
“Will this work even without having removed the scar tissue?”
“I hope so. I wouldn’t advise the other method. Not without a doctor to oversee and as many drugs as you can pump into the poor thing.”
Ronan had no intention of butchering Noah in an attempt to force his body to accept him as a mate. Using ointment was about where he’d draw the line.
She poured the mixture into an empty bottle and stoppered it.
“From my recollection, we administered it twice a day. Best to do so on clean skin, after a hot shower to open up the pores.”
“How will we know if it’s working?”
“Your bodies will tell you,” she said with a smirk, throwing a quick glance down to his groin.
He took the bottle from her. “Thanks, Kitty. I’ll let you know how we get on.”
Once he was inside the house, he pulled the stopper out and sniffed at it. He could scent rose under the aloe vera. And something less familiar. Though he had his doubts, he did his best to push them away. If it had worked for that other couple, it could work for them. Now he had to convince Noah.
“There you are.”
He glanced up to find Quinn on his way down the stairs.
“What’s up?”
“Griffin needs to see you. We have a job.”
Talk about bad timing. He slipped the bottle into his jacket pocket and followed his brother.