#not-regency

The rules are as follows: Go to page 7 of your WIP, go to the seventh line, share seven sentences, and tag 7 more writer-bloggers to continue the challenge.

I was tagged by @siriusstufff (about 7 days ago).

There were older ways, and no one, no matter if they liked it or not, would dare challenge the Duke of Hale publicly. Derek sat his glass on the table by his side and straightened his lapels as he walked. Moving alone through the little clumps of people gave him an advantage over the d’Argent party, who seemed to be attempting to move en masse. Derek did not like to use his title as a sword or shield, but he would do so to help keep his family safe. He glanced at the Stilinski and McCall boys and tilted his chin in such a way he hoped would express that he was demanding their presence. The young men did not know him well, yet they knew his title, and had been taught soundly by their parents to not ignore such a summons. Moments later the two of them were heading towards their father and mother, not quite with the same gusto as Derek, but near enough.

Sixth Piece in my Bubblegum Series. “Tell me, young Omega Stilinski, why I should grant this request?”

The few times before that Stiles had seen the Hale Alpha Matriarch, she had not worn a mien one could truthfully call kind, but at this moment she was dripping absolute disdain. She was perfectly at ease, however, despite her ill opinion of the Omega standing before her. She had no reason not to be. She was in her own drawing room, with her fine furnishings and extensive staff and innumerable other rooms at her disposal. This was her splendid city-residence, a enormous house that was said to be the smallest of the Hale Pack’s many estates. Her family was not one to treat with anything but respect; they were not only wealthy beyond the comprehension of most, but they’d also long kept their place in society, despite the ever present threat of those who barely tolerated the elevation of Werewolves to places of influence and honor.

Mieczysław Stiles Stilinski, only part of the tonne due to an accident of his birth, needed to keep that foremost in his mind. This was not an Alpha who would suffer being trifled with. Yet, despite the very real, and very new, urge he felt to bare his neck to this woman, Stiles made himself simply continue to look slightly downwards as he answered. He didn’t want to seem indecorous in her presence, but neither did he wish to appear as completely placid or meek at this point. It may be the norm, and exceedingly fashionable for Omegas of the tonne, but Stiles did not wish to pretend that he was something that he was not. He had not lead the life of a proper Omega, and that was something he would not be able to hide for long, and the idea of attempting to fool a Werewolf was as absurd as it was potentially dangerous to his future station, if not his person.

“No, dear sir. I am afraid I must be quite definite in my pronouncement. While the Omegas and Betas in your party are quite welcome to visit freely with the younger Lady Yukimura with only our supervision, your young Alphas simply cannot stay in this house without the presence of my Mistress.”

The steward stood tall in his rights, and even yet, Deaton was tempted to step around the Beta. “Lower your voice, man. Can you not see who one of those said same young Alphas is?” Derek Hale was more patient than any other man of title Deaton had come across, but there were certain things even he would not stand for. “Neither you, nor I, am in a position to instruct His Grace on where he may or may not sleep. I understand the predicament perfectly, but we were informed that Countess Yukimura would be in attendance when we arrived, and have thus made no other arrangements for my Master and his companions.”

“Omega Martin believes that Omega Hale has been planning this for at least three or four years.”

Rachel Wilcox was not a beta usually interested in scandal and rumor, but the shock of the reclusive Derek Hale appearing this Season had driven even the most sensible to gossip. Her companions looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“Omega Martin dines with Omega Lahey, the Hale’s neighbour, every Wednesday. Apparently Omega Lahey was lucky enough to accompany both Omega Hale, and his younger sister Alpha Cora Hale, when they went for their fittings. Lahey was adamant, it seems, that Derek Hale will finally be wed before the end of the year is out.”

Mitchell Markel, a plain yet decent beta prospect due to his four hundred pounds a year, attempted to hide a scoff.

“I can think of no worthwhile plan that would have an omega keep themself from finding a spouse for the number of years Hale has stayed out of the Season. At least not one that would magically disappear so that he’s able to look so full of vitality, now.”

Markel looked over at the omega in question, and all their eyes followed. No matter your type, it would be hard to find an alpha or beta who didn’t at least find Omega Hale physically appealing, even if he was reputed to be sullen and occasionally ill tempered. He did, tonight, look wonderful and full of life.

“His pack Alpha has likely been fielding proposals left and right. It’s not as if the man isn’t pretty enough to already be wed, and I can’t begin to imagine just how substantial purse he’ll bring to a marriage.”

That, at least, was universally accepted. The Hale Pack was richer, speculation had it, than the King himself, and as werewolves they split their wealth evenly among their children, no matter their designation; the omega son would inherit equally with the alpha daughters.

“He hasn’t accepted any dance offers. Perhaps he’s not here in search of a spouse?” Beta Minnie Gosford said, stumbling over the last few words as she spoke, realizing, perhaps, how foolish they sounded only once they were out of her mouth.

“He’s dressed in materials neither you nor I will ever be able to afford, he has his older alpha sister as his chaperone, and, the Allerton twins just remarked on how amazing he smelled he went passed them.” Langston’s own nostrils flared, but even though his wolf ears could hear the conversation on the other side of the room, his nose likely couldn’t reach as far. “He might be a few years late, but any omega werewolf flanked by an alpha of his pack, dressed to impress and not wearing any kind of scent-cover to a ball in Season is, I assure you, looking for a spouse.”

There was a clatter at the end of the hall and Rachel found herself lifting her eyes to the commotion with everyone else. She knew names of the alphas who’d just entered, and that they were young enough that this was their first Season, but wasn’t familiar with them far beyond that. Neither Scott McCall nor Mieczysław Stilinski were prospects that her family would approve of, the former was a soldier and the latter a student of medicine.

Stilinski had apparently tripped as he’d entered the ballroom. He straightened his jacket and inspected the toe of one shoe before looking up at where his companion was pointing. Stilinski’s face lit up.

“Oh,” Rachel heard herself say as she looked where he was staring. They’d thought Omega Hale seemed well before this moment, but now he was simply radiant. His own smile reflected that of Alpha Stilinski’s. “That might explain it all, then.”

♠

(on the) shelf: not active socially;past an age when one might expect to have the opportunity to marry