Honeythorn: Alpha/Omega Page 2

  For a moment, Milan wanted to acquiesce. The last thing he wanted right now was to converse with strangers. All he had wished for was a quiet dinner with his husband-to-be, to discuss topics of little importance simply to spend some time with each other. But Milan had been stubborn from birth, if his mother was to be believed, and he would stand his ground at the impertinence he was faced with.

  “No, I believe a drink after my long travels would do me well,” Milan said with his nose in the air, not waiting for a reply before striding into the adjacent room.

  Despite Milan’s fatigue, he made himself seem merry, talking to each guest in turn. The diminishing use of coal, the train tracks being built nearby, the local crops. Milan wondered aloud about what plants could grow in such cold and was told about the vegetables that remained buried underground until it was time to pull them up to be washed and consumed.

  It fit the people there not to grow on trees, exposed.

  Raphael said little throughout the evening. Milan had no idea if he was being taciturn or simply reserved. He seemed to forget Milan’s presence completely, barely glancing at him, but Milan kept up his cheery revolt. If this really was a message from his future Alpha, he would respond in kind.

  He would not be cowed. He would not be kept in his room like a trinket to be pulled out and shown about when it pleased his husband.

  Despite the haziness that was overtaking Milan, his eyelids drooping and posture slumping no matter his attempts at remaining alert, he stayed until the last guest had left. The room seemed terribly cold and silent when only Milan and Raphael remained. Milan looked at him for a moment. Why was there so little defiance in his expression when his actions spoke loud and clear?

  “Thank you for a lovely evening,” Milan lied. “I will retire now if there is nothing else you want from me.”

  Raphael shook his head, still not looking at him.

  “Good night, then,” Milan said, thoroughly defeated by the day.

  As he walked out, he heard a quiet, “Good night.”

  But it might just as well have been the wind.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Consciousness crawled forwards slowly. Milan blinked awake and was for a moment confused as to where he was, everything around him foreign. It was with an abrupt heaviness that he remembered the previous day. He closed his eyes again as if in pain.

  Milan had expected to have to become accustomed to his new life, but not like this. The sudden longing for the familiar, for his family and friends, for somewhere he belonged, pierced through him. It was a pull to a place he could no longer go to.

  Knowing that remaining in bed would only cause his thoughts to darken further, Milan dragged himself to the basin of water. Thankfully, the fire in his room was still alive, and he was able to wash without much trembling in the cold. Once he was dressed and ready to face the day, he pulled the string that Melissa had told him would call her. It only took a minute for a knock to sound at the door, and Milan opened it with a smile.

  “My Lord,” Melissa stuttered, seeming taken aback to see him up and dressed. Milan waved her concern away.

  “Not quite a lord yet,” he teased. “Help me find breakfast?”

  “Oh—yes, of course.”

  Milan followed Melissa once again to the dining room, making sure to remember where it was this time. He was not terribly surprised to see that Raphael was not there to greet him and distracted himself with the covered dishes on the table.

  “This all looks wonderful,” he complimented as he lifted the lids. Pastries, sausages, eggs. It really did look delicious.

  “Would you like some tea?” Melissa offered.

  “Yes, please. Thank you, Melissa.”

  With another bow, she was gone.

  Milan explored the curious devices that were keeping some of the food warm, a metal ring placed under the plates, before sitting down and serving himself. Breakfast was even better than he was expecting, the sausages rich, the pastries buttery. Despite the lack of spices common in his own land, Northerners did not seem to skimp on salt and cream.

  Milan was not protesting.

  One of the staff, who introduced himself as Larry when Milan asked, stood silently at one corner of the room as Milan ate. It was a little eerie, but useful as Milan finished the meal.

  “Do you know the whereabouts of Lord Raphael?” Milan asked him as he approached to take the plates away.

  “He has gone for the day.”

  Milan paused for a moment. “Gone? Gone where?”

  “I’m not sure.…He often leaves for work during the day.”

  “Right. Of course he does.”

  Larry looked at him uncertainly, and Milan forced himself to smile.

  “Do you know when he’ll return?”

  “Um…”

  Milan shook his head. “Never mind.”

  Milan sat there for a while longer. He should have expected this. Raphael was obviously a busy man, and Milan was clearly not a priority.

  Determined not to waste away in his room like a prisoner, Milan used his solitude as an opportunity to explore.

  The day was clear but cold, and Milan decided he would look through the manor another time. Instead, he went up to his room to don more layers, including his furs, before heading down. He started by going to the back of the manor, where Larry had told him the kitchen and staff rooms resided. The visit seemed to do more harm than good, however, as the bustling of staff stopped suddenly at his presence, startled.

  “Uh…my apologies. I only wanted to say that I will be out for the afternoon. I didn’t want you to worry,” Milan explained.

  “Of course, Mister Pryor. Would you like to take some food with you?” one of the older Omegas asked.

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll come by if I think I will be gone that long,” Milan replied. There was much bowing all around before Milan escaped outside.

  The air was crisp and sharp as he exited the manor. Despite Milan’s aversion to the cold, he took a deep breath, feeling rejuvenated. The lands around the manor were beautiful. Sprawling fields, a distant forest behind them hiding the town a few kilometres ahead. Milan had done some research during his travels and had discovered that in the North, the title of Lord or Lady was very prestigious and not given lightly. Each person awarded the honour of such status was gifted a vast amount of land—fields, crops, and even where the nearby town resided—which they were then responsible for. The lords and ladies, in turn, taxed the citizens and answered to the reigning monarchy.

  The whole thing seemed quite bizarre to Milan, but it was no wonder Raphael must have been pressured to marry. It was a clear sign of faith to invite foreign customs and blood into such a prestigious and powerful lineage, seeing as once given, the title was passed on to the eldest heir.

  Milan began his exploration with the stables. He was impressed to see that, despite the ownership of a crawler, the manor also kept two steeds, two mares, and two ponies.

  “Oh, look at you,” Milan cooed at one of the foals. She was covered in thick, long hair as he had never seen before, and seemed calm even with his strange presence. “You are just asking for a treat, aren’t you? Look at those eyes!”

  She seemed happy to be petted, bumping her muzzle against his hand for more. Milan was about to melt into a puddle when a noise of surprise from behind startled him. He turned to see a young Alpha blinking at him in bewilderment. She was holding straps of leather in one hand, a bucket hanging from the other.

  “Sorry! Sorry,” Milan said. “Am I intruding?”

  “No!” she blustered, causing Milan to laugh a little.

  “I just wanted to see the horses. I haven’t even said hello to the others—this one has already taken my heart.”

  At that, she seemed to relax a little, smiling back. “She is quite the enchantress.”

  Milan laughed. “I’m so sorry, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”

  “Mary, Sir.”

  “Mary! It’s lovely t
o meet you. Please, call me Milan.”

  Mary blinked a few times at the request but nodded slowly.

  “Will you introduce me to the rest? If you have the time, of course, I don’t want to bother you.”

  “It’s no bother, Mister…Milan.”

  Milan chuckled at her attempt but eagerly followed her around the ample stables as she introduced him to each creature. Even with just meeting them, they all seemed to have their own personalities—some taciturn, some indifferent, others friendly and eager. Milan had thought he’d fallen in love with Thallo, the foal, but it was when they reached the last horse that Milan knew he had found the love of his life.

  “And this is Saturnus, our other mare,” Mary introduced.

  The horse was quite a sight. Tall and graceful, she stood proudly in her pen. Her coat was like creamed coffee, her mane almost white. Her dark eyes were striking, and there was something deeply intelligent in them.

  “Saturnus doesn’t take to many, but she’s very loyal when she does,” Mary explained.

  “Does Lord Raphael ride her often?” Milan asked.

  “He dotes on her, as with the other horses, but she is not his favourite.”

  Milan could not imagine Raphael doting on anything, but he was glad he’d be able to favour Saturnus as his horse if allowed.

  “Would I be able to brush her?” Milan asked. Mary looked a little surprised but went to fetch a brush.

  “She doesn’t bite, but don’t be offended if she doesn’t make friends with you right away.”

  “Thank you. I won’t.”

  As Milan settled inside the pen, surrounded by the earthy smell of horses, something in him settled for the first time since he had arrived. This, at least, was familiar to him. He let the slow rhythm of the brush lull him. It was simply nice to be close to another living creature, to be comforted by its warmth, to hope for its friendship.

  Milan took his time. When he reached Saturnus’s face, he held his hand out tentatively. Saturnus watched him for a moment before nuzzling his hand softly.

  Milan wouldn’t have been able to keep the wide smile off his face if he tried.

  He left the stable in high spirits, stopping by the kitchen to grab some bread and cheese before heading out again. Yesterday’s fog had dissipated, and the green glowed around him in the early autumn sun.

  Milan found himself enjoying the walk. He followed a path that cut through the grass and was glad to eventually reach the edge of an expanse of crops, dotted with workers bent down to the earth.

  “Hello, there!” he called cheerily to the first person he crossed. The woman—a bonded Alpha, he could scent from where he stood—straightened as she turned to look at him. Despite the cold, she was sweating, her ginger hair pinned away from her face.

  “Hello, there,” the woman replied.

  “I’m sorry to bother you. I’m Milan Pryor. I’m new to Ledford Manor,” he said a little awkwardly, knowing that this was not enough of an excuse to disturb her from her work.

  “Oh! The new lord. It’s an honour,” she said with a bow. Milan waved her stiff greeting away.

  “Please, I’m not a lord yet. Call me Milan.”

  The woman looked unsure. “I am Stephanie.”

  “Stephanie! A pleasure. May I ask…what grows in these crops? The plants are unfamiliar to me, from where I come from.”

  “Of course. These here are spring onions. We have some kale further down.”

  “Kale? I’ve never tried it, I don’t think. Although perhaps I’ve had it without knowing.”

  “It’s common here.”

  “Well then, I look forward to getting acquainted with the taste.”

  Stephanie smiled, seeming to relax a little.

  Milan was tempted to ask about how she found Raphael—did she enjoy working under his rule? The question would be inappropriate, however, seeing as he was about to marry the man, and Stephanie would not complain to him even if she wanted to.

  “Well, thank you for indulging me. My apologies again for disrupting your work,” Milan said.

  “It has been no disruption. I wish you a good day.”

  “Yes, thank you. You too.”

  Milan walked on, eating some of the bread along the way. He tried not to bother the workers but had to stop when he saw an intriguing irrigation system that seemed to move on its own.

  “Steam powered?” Milan asked, getting a nod from the worker in response. “Fascinating.”

  In his curiosity, Milan got wet and muddy. Despite the worker’s exclamations, Milan didn’t mind, and it was with a smile on his face that he turned to walk back to the manor.

  The sun was setting when he arrived, entering through the mudroom. The staff that greeted him were instantly aflutter with distress at his state.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t trek mud through the manor,” he promised, which did little to appease them.

  His dirty state earned him a hot bath, so Milan wasn’t too sorry. After the hours of walking, the warm water was a relief to his muscles, and he soaked for as long as the water kept a comfortable temperature.

  Milan was dressed and ready just in time for dinner, bracing himself. Would there be another tedious gathering? Or would he have to drag conversation out of the lord, word by word? In either case, Milan felt far more prepared than yesterday.

  Of course, his confidence seemed only to curse him, as the dining room was once again utterly empty except for food and Larry.

  “Is Lord Raphael delayed?” Milan asked him. Larry looked reluctant to answer.

  “He has taken an early dinner in his study and has already retired.”

  Milan clenched his fists tightly, staring at the opposite wall. This time, it was not pain or helplessness that took over him, but anger.

  “I see. Well. I’m sure the food will be delicious.”

  The food probably was, but Milan barely tasted anything, glaring at a fixed point as he fumed. Who did this ridiculous man think he was, leaving Milan there to eat alone? If Raphael was trying to humiliate Milan, he would have to try harder. And if he was expecting a docile Omega, he was about to be shocked by how hard Milan could bite back.

  He lay in bed that night, face pressed against his pillow as he tried to fend off the curling, suffocating vines of loneliness and fury. He refused to give up. In steel and hardened fist, determination was growing too.

  He closed his eyes and spent his sleepless night forging a plan.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Milan groaned as he woke up hazily, his eyelids bright with sunshine. For a moment, he wondered why in the world he had left the curtains open when he suddenly remembered.

  Raphael. The plan.

  Milan jumped out of bed, washing and dressing quickly before calling Melissa, who seemed resigned to see him dressed and ready for the day.

  “Good morning, Mister Pryor,” she said dutifully.

  “Good morning! I was wondering where Lord Raphael is at the moment? Is he awake?”

  “Um, yes. He’s had his breakfast delivered to his room.”

  “Of course, why use the dining table when you could eat from a tray? Never mind. Please, take me to his rooms.”

  “Oh. Um…”

  “Please. I will not tell him how I found them.”

  Melissa looked back at him, large brown eyes uncertain, before a tiny frown dipped her eyebrows.

  “All right,” she said with a decisive nod.

  “Thank you. See? Great friends,” Milan teased. Melissa smiled before leading the way.

  “It’s that door there,” she whispered, pointing. They had travelled to the other side of the manor, still on the second floor.

  “Thank you.” He smiled gratefully and waited for Melissa to leave before striding forwards, not giving himself even a moment to feel doubt.

  Milan knocked loudly on the door Melissa had pointed to. He only had to wait a few seconds before he heard a distinct “Come in,” from inside. Milan paused for a second. He was more than happy
to confront Raphael, but it wasn’t appropriate to storm into his rooms. He knocked again.

  “Orson, what…” Raphael’s eyes widened as he realised that it was his neglected betrothed before him.

  “Hello,” Milan said, voice cold. Raphael washed his face away from expression.

  “Hello.”

  They stared at each other. Milan could feel his nails digging into his palms, his heart beating furiously. When he spoke, however, his voice was quiet.

  “What am I doing here, Lord Raphael?”

  Raphael seemed taken aback. Milan went on before he could answer.

  “Do you agree to marry me? Or is this all a farce? Have you brought me here simply to humiliate me? To pretend I don’t exist?”

  “I…” Raphael looked away. Milan waited, but nothing came forth.

  “What? Are you even willing? You don’t want a husband. I know these arrangements come with great pressure to agree, but agree you did.”

  Raphael clenched his teeth. “I am willing,” he said finally. It did not escape Milan’s notice that he hadn’t disagreed with the idea that he didn’t want a husband.

  “Well, then, do we not have a duty? I am not the culprit in this. We are in the same position. Why then, have you been avoiding me?”

  “I…I’ve been busy.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” Milan hissed, incensed that Raphael would attempt such a flimsy excuse. “You knew what day I was to arrive. I cannot believe you are so incompetent that you could not reschedule things for the single week leading up to our marriage as to spend some time with the person who has travelled weeks to get here. Who you will be spending the rest of your life with. Or should I expect our bonding night to also be filled with paperwork?”

  Raphael’s refusal to meet his eyes only angered Milan further. Who was he to look like the victim in this conversation?

  Finally, Raphael replied. “I will be there for dinner.”

  Milan scoffed. “Well, yes. I would hope so. What are you occupying your day with?”

  At this, Raphael finally met his eyes, frowning. “Work.”