Honeythorn: Alpha/Omega Read online

  “What kind of work?”

  The frown deepened. “I have to survey the grounds today.”

  “Excellent, I’m eager to ride. I’ll accompany you.” Milan ignored the indignation on Raphael’s face and walked away. “I will meet you at the stables!”

  By the time a glowering Raphael arrived, Milan had Saturnus saddled and ready, a few chunks of carrot in his hand to ingratiate himself with the mare as he stroked her muzzle.

  “There you are. I thought you’d gotten lost,” Milan couldn’t help but say sarcastically. It did nothing to improve Raphael’s countenance. “I believe Mary is just taking out your horse.”

  Raphael was obviously about to reply when Melissa appeared from around the stables.

  “Mister Pryor! Oh, Lord Ledford, good morning.” She bowed.

  “Good morning, Melissa,” Raphael replied.

  Milan took a step towards her. “Did I forget something?”

  “Well…you haven’t had breakfast, Sir.”

  “Oh! No matter, Melissa, but thank you for—”

  “Absolutely not,” Raphael cut in. Milan glared at him.

  “I assure you, Lord Raphael, that I will not faint on top of the horse and inconvenience you,” Milan said acidly.

  “That’s not…have something to eat.”

  “And have you leave without me?”

  Raphael scowled. “I won’t. I’ll ready my horse whilst you eat something.”

  Milan squinted his eyes suspiciously before relenting. “Fine.”

  He didn’t run to the kitchen, but he certainly didn’t dawdle on his way there, either. The comforting heat and smells hit him as soon as he entered.

  “Can I steal one of these?” he asked the room in general, pointing at one of the buns on a tray.

  “Mister Pryor. Of course.”

  “Thank you.”

  Stuffing the pastry into his mouth, he hurried back to the stables.

  “Is that all you’re having?” Raphael asked in clear disapproval, already on his dark horse as Milan appeared.

  “Not at all, I had a full breakfast of eggs and sausage and tea,” Milan replied sweetly. He knew it was a terrible idea to antagonise Raphael, but he simply couldn’t help himself.

  Milan forced the last of the pastry down his throat before swinging onto Saturnus. Milan guided the mare into a slow circle around Raphael. “Shall we?” He smirked.

  Milan kept pace as Raphael trotted forwards.

  **********

  The afternoon was as entertaining as it was informative. They rode further than Milan had walked the day before, allowing him to see far more of what the land had to offer.

  They stopped at the crops he had already visited first. Milan watched closely, but the workers did not seem stiff or displeased to see Raphael. Instead of staying mounted, Raphael jumped down, his horse standing obediently in place as he went to talk to what seemed to be the leader of this particular group of farmers.

  “My Lord.”

  “Hello, Clark. How are they holding up?”

  “You were right. We started the sprayers on different parts of the field instead of all together like suggested, and they worked perfectly.”

  Milan perked up. “Oh, are you talking about those moving irrigation systems?” he asked, dismounting from Saturnus.

  Both men looked at him in surprise. “Yes,” Clark said. “Are you familiar?”

  “I only saw them yesterday, but they look very intriguing. Whose invention is it?”

  “Well, actually, it’s Bethany’s. She’s the mechanic in town. Got a gift, she has.”

  “Amazing.” Milan grinned widely at the notion that such a talented inventor was just in town.

  Clark looked at him curiously and Milan took a step forwards. “My apologies, my name is Milan Pryor. I’m new to Ledford Manor.”

  “Oh, yes, of course! I heard that—yes, welcome.”

  “Thank you.”

  Raphael cleared his throat pointedly.

  “Are you quite well?” Milan asked innocently.

  Raphael managed to keep a straight face, but Milan was sure it had been a struggle. “Quite.”

  Despite Milan’s teasing, he stepped back and let the men talk, listening avidly but not interrupting.

  Even when they moved on, Milan watched carefully at how Raphael interacted with others and was surprised to see how easily he talked. He became relaxed, open, at least until he was reminded of Milan’s presence.

  They went as far as some farm houses nearer to the town, asking after the pigs, sheep, cows, or chickens kept by each. They dismounted by a small cottage with a pen of pigs close by and were greeted by a tall, broad Alpha, her blonde hair in the typical chignon of these parts.

  “Lord Ledford! How good to see you. And, I don’t think we’ve met…?”

  “Mister Milan Pryor. My…betrothed.”

  Milan ignored the telling pause, smiling at the woman. “Hello. What a pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine. Laura, at your service.”

  Raphael cut in before there could be more small talk.

  “How are the pigs faring?”

  “Much better. We increased the ratio of grain in the feed and it’s made a big difference.”

  They made their way to the pens, where grunting and the occasional squeal rang out. Milan approached wearily. He was always squeamish at meeting animals that were meant for slaughter.

  “You’re right. They look much happier,” Raphael said and, to Milan’s astonishment, bent down to scratch behind one of the pig’s ears, a soft smile on his face.

  Maybe he liked to be kind to things that were due to die.

  It didn’t take long for them to walk back to their mounts.

  “Your daughter?” Raphael asked quietly as they reached their horses. Milan would not have heard him if he weren’t so intent on eavesdropping.

  “Much better. My Lord, I cannot thank you enough for what you did for—”

  “Do not mention it. You must know that you can come to me if such a concern arises again.”

  “Thank you, Lord Ledford.”

  This seemed to be a theme as he visited the other houses. Raphael wasn’t overly expressive, and he didn’t tend to give many emotional assurances, but he seemed to be someone these people had learnt they could trust.

  The ride back to the manor was silent, Milan deep in thought. He believed in judging a person not by how they treated those above their station, but those below. If he simply used the information gathered today, Milan could only conclude one thing: Raphael was a good man.

  Milan felt chastised by the discovery. Perhaps he had pushed too quickly. Perhaps Milan was the embodiment of a marriage Raphael had been strong-armed into, and he needed time to adjust.

  They entered the manor side by side, and Milan gathered his courage as he stopped Raphael.

  “My Lord. Thank you for letting me ride with you. It has been…it was very enjoyable,” Milan said quietly.

  Raphael nodded, not quite meeting his eyes.

  “I know I have usurped your day,” Milan went on, “but I wondered if you would still have dinner with me.”

  There was a slight pause as Raphael finally raised his eyes. “I’m surprised you want more of my company.”

  Milan’s lips tilted into a half smile. “We are to be bonded, Alpha. Why would I want anything else?”

  Milan knew that it was bold to call Raphael ‘Alpha’ without further honorific. It was a possessive term that might as well be, ‘my Alpha’.

  They looked at each other. For the first time, something heated stirred in Milan’s belly as he looked at Raphael.

  “I’ll see you at dinner, then,” Raphael agreed.

  Milan couldn’t keep himself from smiling.

  **********

  Milan took care with his appearance before dinner, almost embarrassed by it but not enough to stop. If he did not do it for his betrothed, then who would he do it for?

  To his r
elief, Raphael was there when Milan stepped into the dining room. He even stood up as Milan entered, pulling out his seat. Milan didn’t comment on the sudden change.

  As they started dinner, the surprises seemed not to end. Instead of Milan having to reach for a topic of conversation, it was Raphael who was first to speak.

  “I hope you were not too bored today.”

  “On the contrary, it was very interesting. The—sprayers, did you call them? Those, in particular, were fascinating.”

  “You like mechanics?”

  “Yes, greatly. We use more solar forces where I come from, but these steam-propelled machines you have here are so intricate. They intrigue me.”

  “Well, much of the house works through such systems. I’m sure I could find someone with more knowledge than I to show you them.”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you.” Milan grinned at him. “Also, I must confess that it was also pleasant to see how your people are so well taken care of. You are obviously a good lord,” Milan complimented.

  Raphael looked awkward at the praise, but he nodded his thanks. “It’s my duty.”

  “Well, yes, but not all people do their duty with a kind hand. Do you enjoy the work?”

  “Some parts more than others. Overall, yes.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad.”

  Raphael fell silent then, but Milan picked up the slack by sharing his impressions and the differences between the North and the South. Raphael didn’t say much, but he seemed to be listening.

  By the time dinner had been finished, Milan was almost weightless. He felt happy. It didn’t even dampen his mood that Raphael did not ask to continue their conversation over a drink. The dinner had been a success.

  They walked together in comfortable silence to the second floor. Milan was about to wish him good night when Raphael spoke hesitantly.

  “I am seeing the accountant tomorrow at noon. He will be talking about some of the machinery we have installed lately. You can join us if you wish.”

  Milan almost clapped his hands with glee but managed to restrain himself. “I would love to, My Lord. Thank you.”

  Raphael nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Good night,” he bade Milan.

  “Good night.”

  Sleep claimed him quickly when Milan slipped into bed, the loneliness kept at bay.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  When morning dawned, Milan did not have to drag himself out of bed, instead throwing the sheets off eagerly, more than ready to face the day.

  He was slightly disappointed to see Raphael was not in the dining room for breakfast, but excused it easily, knowing they were on different schedules. He took a brisk walk around the grounds before going to visit Saturnus, brushing her down as he waited for noon to arrive.

  When the clock struck twelve, Milan was guided to the study, where the accountant had already arrived.

  “Hello. Milan Pryor, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted. The Alpha, introduced as Richard Gale, was a portly man with a thick moustache and thinning hair.

  “Likewise,” Mister Gale replied before they all settled at a table.

  Milan’s intention of listening silently did not last long. It was obvious by the way Raphael tried to steer the conversation that he had only intended Milan to be there for the discussion of machinery, but Milan couldn’t help but ask questions about the running of the estate. It was endlessly interesting to listen to how the profits from the farming were divided between Raphael and the workers, how funds were used to help the nearby town, how some were invested again in the agricultural business.

  The more questions Milan asked, however, the darker Raphael’s mood turned. He began scoffing at Milan’s inquiries, and the more irritated Milan became with his behaviour, the more insistent he was in his queries, until the poor accountant was caught in the middle of their feud.

  Gone was the man of the previous day. Raphael did not indulge Milan’s curiosity, going as far as to snap, “That’s none of your business,” as Milan asked another question.

  “And why not? Aren’t we to be married? Will my children not inherit this responsibility? Why on earth would this not be my business?”

  “Because it’s not.”

  “Well, I beg to differ, Lord Alpha Raphael Ledford,” Milan sneered. They glared at each other until Mister Gale cleared his throat.

  “Perhaps we should leave any further discussion for another day?” he suggested.

  Raphael looked at him, his expression clearing from his scowl. “Yes, that’s a good idea. Thank you for your patience today.”

  Milan clenched his jaw. That condescending bastard. “Yes. Thank you,” Milan said instead of voicing his thoughts.

  Milan and Raphael stood stiffly as Mister Gale gathered his things and made a hasty retreat. As soon as the door was closed, both men turned towards each other. Raphael pointed at Milan, an accusation.

  “Would you like to count the coins in my pocket, too?” he growled.

  Milan scoffed. “You are a child. It was you who invited me to this meeting!”

  “A grave mistake on my part, I agree.”

  “You—if you were expecting some wilting Omega to be barely seen and certainly not heard, then you have agreed to marry the wrong person! You allow my questions yesterday, but not today? It is like I’m betrothed to two men. You are making me dizzy.”

  Raphael snorted air out of his nose like a bull. The effect was entirely ridiculous. Without another word, he strode out of the room. Milan watched him go.

  “See you at dinner!” he called out before the door slammed shut.

  Milan had not felt so frustrated in his entire life.

  **********

  Larry was hovering nervously as Milan glared at the empty dining room. It wasn’t that Raphael’s infantile behaviour was a surprise, but it was no less enraging for it.

  “I expect his highness is in his abode? Playing with his bilboquet, perhaps?” Milan waved his hand around to enhance his sarcasm.

  “Um…”

  “Never mind. My apologies, Larry. I think I will go and see what is keeping my dear husband-to-be from the simple act of attending dinner.”

  Stomping rather ungracefully—there was a time for grace and another for bullish force, Milan had always thought—up the stairs, he had to take a moment in front of Raphael’s door to try and compose himself. It was a lost cause, however. He could feel his cheeks were hot, his hands refusing to unclench from tight fists. He was utterly at his wit’s end as to how he had ended up with an Alpha as mercurial as a teenager and just about as mature.

  Milan pounded on Raphael’s door. There was a faint noise from inside. Milan waited. He felt the pressure in his head heighten as thirty seconds passed. He knocked on the door again. He waited twenty seconds, this time. Nothing.

  “Raphael,” Milan called, his fist on the door again, “I swear to all that has ever been alive, if you don’t open this door right now—”

  Milan took a startled step back as the door was yanked open, revealing a glowering and half-undressed Raphael. No shirt, breeches loose, and missing even his stockings. Milan couldn’t help but find his feet oddly vulnerable. Not that Raphael’s state was of any consequence to the matter at hand.

  “What,” Raphael said, for there was no questioning inflection anywhere to be seen.

  “Dinner is waiting downstairs.” Milan managed to make his voice a reasonable volume, despite the tone being cold enough to match the Nordic weather.

  “I have asked for my dinner to be brought to my rooms.”

  “And for what reason is that?” Milan grit out.

  “I desire solitude,” Raphael had the gall to say with a straight face.

  “Then do not marry,” Milan hissed. They were to be wed in less than a week, and this was what Raphael was doing because Milan showed more interest in the estate than was befitting of an Omega?

  Raphael would be lucky to leave this marriage in one piece.

  “Fine. I will
go downstairs,” was all he said before the door was slammed shut. Milan raised his fists to his mouth to muffle the scream of frustration.

  To Raphael’s benefit—for Milan did not know what he would resort to if the promise hadn’t been kept—Raphael did appear ten minutes later. Ten minutes, Milan struggled not to comment, that Milan had to spend sitting alone in the dining room letting anger wash everything in a rather unfetching red.

  The next few minutes were a pantomime of an unhappy marriage, despite the fact that they weren’t even bonded. They ate, stared straight ahead, and each stubbornly kept their silence as if it were punishment for the other.

  In the midst of the swamp of his anger, Milan had a sudden, strange moment in which he was forced to step back from his body and see the scene without the blood pumping so furiously through his body.

  What he saw was…ridiculous. Two grown men scraping their knives and forks against their plates, chewing like bovine, practically choking on their righteous pride.

  Milan missed his family terribly. He had always been impetuous, stubborn, impulsive. It was only because of his parents and siblings that he had been able to curb some of those habits. They had helped him become a better person.

  What would his mother say if she were there? His mother, with her kind eyes and calloused hands and glowing halo of curly hair? He could almost hear her disappointed clucking ring through the tense silence of the room.

  The vision deflated the anger that had buoyed him this far. Perhaps, Milan conceded in his mind, the fury is easier to feel than fear, loneliness, and sadness. Anger blinds, but it does not cure.

  Milan took a deep breath, putting his utensils down and with them, his useless pride.

  “Lord Raphael…” he started quietly, causing Raphael to stop eating at once, although he continued staring ahead. “What displeased you so much today? Do you really wish for an Omega without opinion or voice?”

  At that, Raphael’s eyes flicked towards him. “Of course not.”

  “Then why do you think it fair to punish me for having one?”

  “How am I punishing you? I would not think my company much of a reward.”