By the time they finish their third dance that evening, Lambert's head is spinning from the overwhelm of it all-- the sights, the smells, the noise. Luckily, Aiden seems to notice the way that he wavers slightly as they leave the dance floor and takes Lambert's hand in his.
"Come with me," he whispers, leading him towards the stained glass doors that open onto the garden terrace. "I think we could both use some air. Besides, there's something I want to show you." The alpha spares a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure that no one is paying attention to them, then slips through the doors.
Lambert lets out a sigh of relief the moment the night air hits him. It smells fresh and earthy and feels cool against his skin-- a welcome contrast from the heat of so many bodies packed into the ballroom. The sky above them is cloudless and dark, with twinkling stars and a waxing moon. It's eerily quiet in the garden, save for the chirping of crickets, though the muffled sound of voices can be heard through the glass doors. It's a perfect night that is a soothing balm for the senses.
"This way," Aiden whispers, darting around the corner of the building and gesturing for him to follow.
When Lambert does, his breath catches in his throat.
Aiden has brought them to a section of the garden with a circular mosaic patio surrounding a white marble fountain. Through the trees, hundreds of tiny lanterns have been strung above the patio in rows like shining pearls, illuminating the space around them with a soft, warm glow.
"Holy shit," Lambert breathes, gaping at the space in awe. It's like the stars themselves have been brought down from the heavens for this moment alone.
"I know," Aiden replies. "It was my father's idea. Something to make tonight worth remembering. When the clock strikes midnight, everyone will be brought out here to watch the fireworks. But I thought you deserved a more...private viewing first."
"It's..." Lambert shakes his head as he grips the terrace railing, leaning in to get a closer look. He's never seen anything like this before. "It's beautiful."
"It is," Aiden says, placing a hand over his. But he's not looking at the lights. And when Lambert turns, Aiden's eyes are on him.
"And the fireworks are at midnight, you say?"
"Yes."
"What time is it now?"
The alpha glances towards his pocket watch, but Lambert has a sneaking suspicion he already knew the answer. "A quarter past eleven."
"So we're entirely alone," he concludes.
"Yes," Aiden breathes, stepping closer.
"Then perhaps," Lambert murmurs, tilting his head up towards the alpha, "you should kiss me again."
The other man leans in, so that their lips are a hair's breadth away from one another. "Perhaps I shall." Then he closes the distance between them.
Their lips meet in a slow collision, as if Aiden is afraid that Lambert will change his mind at the last second, but he relaxes into it as soon as the omega reaches up to cup his face in his hands, pulling him the rest of the way in.
It's just as achingly good as it felt the first time. Aiden's mouth is soft and tastes of the plum cordial he'd been drinking earlier. His hands are warm where they settle on Lambert's waist. There's something about the way that Aiden kisses him; how gentle the alpha manages to be, yet devouring him as if he's water in the desert. A warm, giddy feeling spreads throughout Lambert's body, from his chest to his stomach, all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. He wants to get lost in it, to have Aiden all to himself and never let him go.
Eventually the alpha breaks the kiss in favor of trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down Lambert's cheek and jaw, to the spot just above his pulse point, until finally he presses a lingering kiss against the omega's scent gland, then buries his face in the crook of Lambert's neck and makes an overwhelmed, broken sort of sound.
"Lambert," he groans, taking in deep, slow breaths of the omega's scent from the place where it's strongest. "Gods, Lambert, do you have any idea what you do to me? It's so hard to keep control of myself, merely being in your presence threatens to drive me mad with how much I want you to be mine."
The words send a shiver down Lambert's spine and instinctually, he tilts his head back to give Aiden better access as he begins mouthing over the sensitive skin. If anyone had said that to him a few months ago it would have brought nothing but dread and disgust. Now, however, it makes something ache deep in his bones, something that's been steadily bubbling to the surface in the time that he's gotten to know the other man.
"Aiden," Lambert breathes, hands grasping for purchase on the alpha's back and shoulders, trying to pull the other man closer despite the fact that it's already impossible. He understands how the alpha feels. Lambert wants Aiden to be his too.
"Every time I close my eyes, you're all I see. Every hour of every day, my mind is occupied with thoughts of you. Your smile--" Aiden presses a kiss to Lambert's scent gland, then another to the spot directly above it-- "your laugh, your voice--" his lips move higher, emphasizing every few words with another kiss against Lambert's neck, setting a course back to his mouth. "Fuck, even that scowl of yours. I love all your fire and insults. I love how everything you do, you seem to do with a raging intensity, as if you plan to spite the world through everyday tasks alone."
Finally he captures Lambert's lips in a desperately soft kiss, lingering against them as if he can't bring himself to pull away.
"I love your wit and your mind-- how you always have something interesting to say or some banter to throw at me."
Aiden kisses him again, for longer this time, teasing at Lambert's mouth with teeth and tongue.
"But most of all I love that I get to see the parts of you that you hide from everyone else. I know you put up walls and lash out because the world has treated you cruelly, but in spite of that I know how kind you are, how deeply you care for those around you."
Aiden lingers inches away, caressing a hand down the side of Lambert's face and gently tilting his chin up so that their eyes meet.
"Tell me that you feel it too," he whispers, "the way I'm drawn to you. It's as if you are gravity itself."
Lambert swallows as the full intensity of Aiden's gaze falls upon him. He doesn't think that he can ever put the way he feels into words, but he understands what Aiden is talking about. He has for a while now.
"I feel it too," Lambert tells him, voice barely a whisper, then leans in and kisses Aiden again.
If he were a wiser omega perhaps he would think twice about allowing himself to be in such a compromising position. Getting caught alone with an alpha is a recipe for scandal enough, but getting caught kissing? Well, he would be considered compromised right then and there. The two of them are playing with fire, that's for sure, to be so bold when the only thing that separates them from the leering eyes of the ton is a single pane of coloured glass. If he were wiser, Lambert wouldn't have even stepped onto the terrace in the presence of an alpha, knowing that the moment someone saw him, his reputation would be ruined.
Except in the moment, wrapped up in Aiden's arms and letting himself get kissed until he's weak in the knees, Lambert can't even bring himself to care. Then again, he's never had much of a reputation to preserve anyway, so perhaps resisting the desire that burns within him would not be a decision for a wiser omega, but rather a foolish one for Lambert. Because how can anything that feels this good possibly be the wrong decision?
So instead of resisting, Lambert gives himself over to the feeling, until every touch, every sensation, every thought is Aiden, Aiden, Aiden, Aiden.
That is, until a loud gurgling noise completely ruins the moment.
Lambert steps back suddenly, cheeks hot with embarrassment as he stares down at his stomach in absolute mortification and betrayal. But Aiden just chuckles and presses a swift kiss to his cheek, smiling.
"Hungry?" the alpha teases.
"Shut up. I've hardly eaten a few bites this evening. Omegas aren't supposed to be seen indulging, you know. Especially in public."
Aiden shakes his head, something akin to righteous anger clear on his face. "That's ridiculous. This is my ball. I'll not have you starve for the sake of maintaining good manners."
"Yes, well, whether it's your ball or not, I'll still have to face dozens of glares if I even think about stepping towards the food table."
"Then I shall have to fetch something for the both of us," Aiden declares. "And we can eat out here."
"It's fine, Aiden. Really, I can wait--"
The alpha silences him with a chaste kiss, one that Lambert can't help but smile at. "Nonsense. I'll be gone only a moment." He kisses Lambert again. "Wait for me?"
"Of course."
And with that Aiden slips back into the ballroom, leaving Lambert alone with the stillness of the night.
In a lust-induced, giddy sort of daze, he stares out at the flickering lanterns as a dopey smile spreads across his face. Lambert hasn't had a drop of alcohol this evening, save for the taste he received on Aiden's tongue, yet he feels completely drunk on the feeling that kissing the alpha had brought. He wants to do it again. He wants to do it forever if Aiden would let him.
After a couple minutes of waiting, he hears the sound of the ballroom door open, followed by footsteps on the stone floor of the terrace.
"That was fast," he says, turning towards the sound, "what, did you run all the way there and back?"
"I think you might have me confused with someone else, Mr. Rochefort." Lambert's next words are caught dead in his throat as he sees that the figure rounding the corner is most definitely not Aiden and he stiffens immediately at the sight of the alpha in front of him.
"Lord Pembroke, I-- what are you doing out here?"
Lord Pembroke smiles, but instead of putting Lambert at ease as one of Aiden's smiles would, the sight fills him with a creeping dread. "I could ask you the same question. Are you sure it's wise for an omega to be out in the gardens alone at night?"
Lambert swallows, mouth suddenly feeling dry. "I... was just getting some air," he says. "I find events such as these overwhelming on my senses. I am fine now, perhaps I shall head back inside." He makes an attempt to walk around the other man, but Lord Pembroke swiftly steps to the side, cutting him off.
"I've been watching you, Mr. Rochefort."
"Excuse me?"
"You've come a long way from your first season, indeed. It appears I was right. In the end, all you needed was the right alpha to put you in your place."
That's not...that's not what this is. That's not what happened. Lambert shakes his head. "It's not like that."
"Come now, there's no shame in it. I think it's excellent that you've finally embraced your role in society."
He swallows thickly, and tries to speak with much more confidence than he currently feels. "What do you want, Pembroke?"
But instead of answering his question, Lord Pembroke steps closer and all the alarm bells immediately go off in Lambert's head. He glances nervously towards the door, but the stupid fucker is still blocking it.
"I admit," the alpha continues, "I was rather surprised when I saw you sneak out here, though I can't say I'm upset. It is rare to find an omega in our society willing to lift their skirts for favors."
What the fuck? "That's not--"
"It's alright, Mr. Rochefort, I understand--" another step-- "You were unable to find a match and so you found another way to get what you want. But I can give you more than he can. Lord Blackmore may be the son of a Duke, but unlike him, I am a firstborn alpha. And I have already inherited my lordship and my holdings. Be mine, and I could make you very comfortable, indeed."
Lambert can smell waves of lust rolling off the other man in droves and his face curls in disgust. "I want nothing from you," he snaps, pushing past Pembroke and making a reach for the door, but the alpha catches his wrist in an iron-like grip.
"Do not be foolish."
"Let go of me," Lambert growls, trying to pull out of his grasp, but the man's grip only tightens, fingernails digging into his skin and leaving purple marks in their wake.
"Your omega hysterics are clouding your judgement yet again, Mr. Rochefort. Think for a moment about what I could offer you."
"I said let go." A loud smack echoes across the patio as Lambert's other hand connects with Pembroke's face hard enough to turn the man's head all the way to the side. For a moment he stands frozen in shock at his own actions. Then he sees the look of utter rage on the alpha's face.
"You are going to regret that," Lord Pembroke says slowly.
"Like hell I am." Lambert scrambles for the door, but Pembroke grabs him by the shoulders. "Get off me!" He struggles in the alpha's grip, but Pembroke holds fast, maneuvering him around and smashing their lips together.
White hot panic courses through him.
For a moment Lambert remains paralyzed, fear racing through his body as this shit-stain of a man forcibly takes what he wants. It's horrible in every way. The way the man's hands trail over his body, the stench of his lust. Pembroke is not gentle like Aiden, but demanding and violent, gripping him so tightly it hurts.
When he finally regains control of himself, Lambert bites him. Hard.
Blood rushes into his mouth. He hears Pembroke scream.
The alpha pulls away, crying out in pain, but doesn't release his hold on Lambert. "You useless little whore!" Blood is trickling down his chin as the omega struggles in his grasp. "Do you think yourself too good for me? You are nothing. The only thing you're good for is spreading your legs to any alpha who--"
But Lambert kicks him in the shin before he can finish that sentence.
The alpha gasps, and this time lets go of him long enough for Lambert to shove his hands into the man's chest with all his might, sending him flying backwards and smashing right through the stained glass doors.
------------------------
Everything seems to happen in slow motion.
Lord Pembroke tumbles backwards through the window, the crash of the glass splitting loud enough to silence the room. It feels like he's falling forever and Lambert is completely still, unable to do anything but watch the man's eyes bulge wide in his skull as he reaches forward, grasping at the air. Flecks of colored glass shine like jewels in the space around him. Some have already sliced into his skin. And then all at once time seems to catch up, and he hits the polished tile of the ballroom floor with a horrible crunch.
A collective gasp goes around the room. A few women shriek. Pembroke starts screaming and writhing on the floor, clutching his arm to his chest. It's bent at a strange angle.
"Lambert?" The two plates in Aiden's hands clatter to the ground as the alpha gapes at him in shock.
Vesemir and Guxart push their way through the crowd and the Duke of Ebbing scrambles towards his injured guest immediately. He looks to Lambert. "What happened?"
"I..." Lambert shakes his head. He can't seem to find words. He can't seem to focus on anything, not with the way Pembroke is screaming, not with the whispers and stares attacking him from all angles.
The Duke doesn't wait for his response and instead turns his attention back to Pembroke. "It's alright, Lord Pembroke, it's-- stop screaming, it's just a fracture." He nods his head to a nearby servant. "Send for a doctor. And bring this man somewhere more comfortable."
"Lambert." Vesemir is suddenly at his side, though Lambert didn't see him approach. "Are you hurt, son?"
He's breathing too fast; each breath feels like it's being forced out of his lungs. He nods his head shakily when he can't bring himself to form words.
"What happened?"
"I'll tell you what happened," Lord Pembroke shrieks, pointing the finger of his good arm towards the omega as a gaggle of servants help him to his feet. "This omega attempted to seduce me and when I refused, attacked me. He's completely mad!"
Lambert shakes his head once more. "That's...that's not true... I-I didn't--" He can't breathe. The room is spinning. Pembroke is still screaming accusations at him, but it just comes out murky. Like his head is underwater.
Suddenly a firm hand is on his shoulder. "It's alright, Lambert," Aiden's voice says. "Just breathe. Can you do that for me?"
"--I want this omega arrested at once! He belongs in an asylum!"
He can't take it. Everything is too much.
"Breathe, Lambert."
He needs to get out of here. He needs...
Taking one last look at Aiden, Lambert turns on his heel and runs.
------------------------
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Lambert's heart is pounding in his chest as he races through the grounds of Blackmore Estate.
Each breath of air into his lungs burns. He knows it only makes him look that much more guilty when he runs, but even still, he doesn't stop. Not when he hears the lingering sounds of his father calling after him, of Lord Pembroke still screaming profanities. Not when the delicate satin slippers he'd been wearing are lost somewhere behind him, leaving his bare feet vulnerable to the rocks and mud and cold dew in the grass. Or when his hair is pulled and the sleeve of his gown torn by the thorns of a rose bush he brushes too close to.
How is it that everything has gone so wrong? Is this what Lambert gets for trying to be something he's not?
"Lambert!" A voice calls in the distance, the sound nearly lost on the wind.
Something aches in Lambert's chest when he recognizes the voice as Aiden's. It's almost enough to make him stop. Almost.
He can hear the sound of approaching hoofbeats and Lambert knows it's only a matter of time before he has to confront what just happened. Even he can't outrun a horse.
"Lambert please!"
Clenching his fists tightly, he stops running just in time for Aiden to cut him off on horseback, dismounting in one fluid motion from the steed that he didn't even bother to fit with a saddle. He looks wild and beautiful. This could almost be like a scene out of a fairy tale if not for the circumstances.
The alpha approaches him slowly, the way one might approach a scared animal, reaching a tentative hand out in Lambert's direction. "Please," he whispers, "just talk to me."
Lambert can't even meet Aiden's eyes. "I don't see what there is to talk about."
"What happened with Pembroke wasn't your fault."
The omega laughs; a cruel, humorless sound. "Isn't it though? I pushed him through a window, Aiden. I broke his arm."
Aiden shakes his head. "Did he hurt you?"
"I..." Lambert's hand instinctively goes to the nail marks on his arm before attempting to hide it in the draping panels of his clothing. "I'm fine."
"That's not what I asked." Aiden steps closer, reaching for Lambert's arm and gently takes it in his hands, turning it over to reveal the marks that Pembroke had left. The alpha goes very still. "What did he do?" The anger in his voice is terrifying, as is the scent of white hot rage rolling off of him. If it was coming from anyone but Aiden, Lambert would probably be terrified as well.
Lambert takes a deep, shaking breath and the alpha's gaze softens. "It doesn't matter," he says quietly. "It's over, I'm fine. And I think I hurt him well enough that he won't try anything like that again."
"Are you fine?" Aiden asks.
Yes. No. He doesn't know. Lambert threads his hands into his hair, tugging at the base of his scalp. "I ruined everything."
"No, you didn't. He did, the moment he chose to lay a hand on you."
"The ton won't see it that way. He's an alpha. I'm..." Nothing, Pembroke's voice hisses. "I'm an omega," Lambert says, "which is as good as nothing. Who do you think they'll believe?"
"I believe you. So does your family-- and mine. Together we can figure this out. We'll fix everything."
Lambert shakes his head. His voice wavers as he speaks. "I don't think my reputation can ever come back from this, Aiden. I'm ruined. And it's best that you stop being seen with me before you're ruined too."
Aiden scoffs. "You think any of that matters to me? I told you that I'd gladly be seen with you, even in scandal, and I meant that." He takes the omega's hands in his, clutching them tightly. "You mean more than any reputation. Look at me, please."
Lambert lets the alpha's hand gently lift his chin so that their eyes meet. Aiden gives him a soft smile, then carefully wipes away the tears on his cheek-- he didn't even realize he'd been crying.
"I...I love you, Lambert. And--" he reaches into his coat, pulling out a small wooden box that he flicks open to reveal a ring-- "I want you to marry me."
Lambert stops breathing.
Marry me. Marry me. Marry me.
You are nothing.