Rune
"I think I'll stay a while longer. Rowan and I have a great deal to discuss. Matters that concern the both of us."
Arthur’s eyes slid to Rune.
Rune kept his own fixed to the table.
He’s here. He found me. How did he find me?
"There is nothing here that concerns you," Rowan returned to his seat beside Rune, the wood creaking beneath him as he stretched out, straightening the lapel of his suit. "There is a car in the drive, and the road back to Edinburgh. Anything else you wish to discuss can be delivered to me by fax, Rushworth.”
"You'd dismiss me like staff." Arthur approached the table and pressed a leather-gloved hand against it. "In front of district heads. Over an omega you've owned for what? Days?" His gaze swept the room, inviting those around him to find it as absurd as he did. "Be careful, Rowan. Mate claims made in haste have a way of becoming embarrassments. I'd hate to watch you stake your name on a runaway ."
Rune’s knuckles were bone-white in his lap.
Arthur always had a way of saying things that were technically true but delivered to cut deep and pierce. And hearing it out loud, in front of these powerful strangers, he felt the familiar lick of shame heat against his neck.
It was true though.
It was who he was deep down. A runaway. A name that, despite his many attempts to flee it, had always managed to find its way back to him.
"Who I stake my claim on is none of your concern." Rowan settled a hand on Rune's thigh beneath the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Oh spare me Blackthorne! He'll do it to you too, don’t you understand that?!" Arthur slammed his hand against the wood, rattling the fine china. A ripple echoed across the hall; an outburst so unlike Arthur, so far removed from his dashing persona, that even Nicholas West shifted his gaze to his glass. "Whatever he's told you, whatever performance he's put on, he'll run from you the moment it suits him. I'm offering to take the problem off your hands-"
"Your offer isn’t needed. And quite frankly, I’m starting to find your persistence increasingly alarming. Compose yourself Rushworth. This is not the time, nor the place for this discussion. You've said enough. Now leave."
Arthur went quiet, which for him, was significantly abnormal. It appeared every avenue he relied upon; reason, charm, the simple act of being obeyed, had closed one by one, leaving him exposed before the very eyes of those who mattered and denied to the one thing he believed belonged to him.
Arthur exhaled through his teeth.
"Very well. Edinburgh, then." He pushed back from the table, straightening himself and ran a hand through his hair. "Can’t say I didn’t try. My apologies for the disturbance, gentlemen. Long drive. Tempers fray."
His gaze found Rune, a lasting look that said — this isn't finished. I know where you are now, Little one. — and then he turned, Jonah fell into step beside him, talking once more about the weather, Thomas a half-pace behind, and the doors closed on the three of them.
A significant silence followed, and for the rest of the evening, Rowan didn’t leave Rune’s side.
He managed to steer the winter allocations back on track. The district heads followed his lead, and the dinner ground on through cheese and port, eventually culminating in the slow dispersal of witnesses who had mentioned nothing more on what had just begun tonight.
Rune sat through all of it, exhausted yet weighted with an unfamiliar feeling.
He didn't hand me over.
In every version of this Rune had ever lived through, in every pack he had temporarily accommodated, this was the part where it went sour. Where the Alpha had caught on or seen words marked on his file as runaway , unstable or flight risk and decided the trouble outweighed any desire to keep an omega in the pack. Rune would be handed back, packing a bag, or, in Arthur's case, quietly dominated into complete submission and dependency.
Tonight had been a world away from normality for him, and now he was sitting beside Rowan listening to him discuss timber quotas. He watched the way Rowan moved through the conversation, unaffected, he didn't look regretful, angry, upset, and every now and then he would even glance over his shoulder and offer a small nod.
Rune blinked the sudden sting away in his eyes, picking up his glass of water and took a sip. He closed them for a moment, let his shoulders drop an inch and puffed out a breath of air.
He didn't hand me over.
It was just past midnight when the last of the district heads left. The corridor to the east wing was quiet, the chandeliers had been dimmed and the clink of glassware and hushed conversation from the kitchen staff drifted from down the hall.
Rowan walked Rune to the foot of the servants’ staircase. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to him.
"You alright?"
No.
"Yes, Alpha."
"Rune."
"No."
Rowan nodded.
"He won't be back. I won't permit him on London pack lands again. I hadn't realised there was a history between you, otherwise I wouldn't have..." Rowan's lips pursed, he let his hand drop to his side. "What he said... about you running. I don't give a fuck about your history, Rune. It doesn't matter to me, but I need to know if you're going to run from me. Even if it's an urge, I need to know. It's no longer just about us, it's also about a man who I observed tonight, acting in a way that concerns me for your safety"
Rune focused on a button in the middle of Rowan's shirt. He knew what he was trying to say. He was being asked to give his word, a promise he had broken before.
He nodded slow and hoped Rowan could read it on his face.
"Words, Rune."
A pause.
"Yes."
"Then I'm trusting you. On your word, on your… head nod, and as my mate. You have a problem? You come to me. You feel like running? You come to me." Rowan stepped closer. "And just to be clear, you're not sleeping in the servant's quarters tonight either. You're staying with me."
"Alpha, I can't—"
"You can." Rowan held up a hand. "This isn't about trying anything funny. Arthur knows where you are now and I’ll be damned if I leave you alone on the other side of the house after what happened tonight."
Rune paused.
He hadn't thought of that. He'd been so caught up in the confrontation that he hadn't considered the aftermath—that Arthur now knew exactly where to find him.
"I'll sleep on the floor," the words tumbled out. "Or the armchair. I won't be any trouble, I just—"
"Don't be ridiculous," Rowan cut in, a smile tugging at his lips. "You'll sleep in my bed. It's big enough." He gestured with his chin, back the way they came. "Come on. It's late."
Rune hesitated by the stairs, his escape route, his one small private space was right there. His eyes flicked to it, then to Rowan making his way down the corridor. The sound of his shoes clicked against the wooden panels, and the more the distance became, the more Rune found himself wanting to follow. His old instincts felt tapered by a newer, perhaps premature one, one that had formed as thin as glass, leading to someone built like a shield that had managed to stop him and the past from bleeding back into each other.
"Wait."
Rowan glanced over his shoulder, slowing in the dim corridor as he turned to face him.
Rune stood there for a moment, by the stairs, then he began to move, trading the distance with each step.
And before he could think better of it.
He kissed him.