Chapter Eleven Cantor

The beta girl was a puzzle.

I'm not much of one to care about puzzles. Bastian has tried to teach me games like chess or coax me to solve riddles in the past. He likes that sort of thing, especially when we're on guard duty. It's always seemed pointless to me.

Well, the games seemed pointless. Letting Bastian try to teach them to me did serve a point, since it gave him an excuse to talk, just as he likes to do, and I could let the words wash over me, without the need to respond.

The only kind of puzzle I do appreciate is the kind that an injured animal or wilting plant presents. How to capture them, how to treat them, how to get them to perk up for me, to purr, to croon, to flower, and eventually how to let them go.

That last part is always the hardest.

I studied her as we walked down the main road into town. The inn was only on the outskirts, and the road was well-kept, but she was still limping slightly, which made me frown. I should have pushed back when Bastian ordered us here. She didn't complain, however, but only twisted her head around as we walked, her eyes darting from building to building as if she'd never seen anything like this bland, minor town, the name of which I couldn't seem to keep in mind.

The beta had all but dropped her broken wing act with me now, which was satisfying. It seemed a very good first step. However, she still showed flashes of genuine fear that didn't make sense to me. My pack had rescued her and her brother from certain death and we were hosting them in the inn. We hadn't harmed either of them. Her door wasn't locked anymore, so she knew she wasn't a prisoner… well, that wasn't completely true. She wouldn't leave her brother, and his door was kept locked, for his own good. It was a temporary situation as Davos had explained to the omega and to us. Like keeping an animal confined while they healed from an attack. Her brother was vulnerable, like a chicken raised in a coop. A feast for foxes. We had to make sure he would be safe and cared for, even if he didn't appreciate our efforts right now.

Once everything was resolved and he was under more permanent protection than we could provide… Well, the beta could stay with him, or go her own way.

I felt my fists clench at the idea. Her brother's scent, what little I had caught so far, did strange things to me. Omega scents were always potent, always drawing up feelings that filled me with equal parts longing and misery. Yet I didn't feel drawn to him, the way I expected to be drawn given the rich decadence of his scent.

For some reason all my thoughts were fixed on the lovely beta now walking at my side through the small market. Her hair was bound only by a strip of cloth that looked like she had torn it from somewhere, the ragged white threads winding through her copper laced curls. It made me want to wind my hands into the loose strands, to scratch her scalp gently with the tips of my fingers. Maybe she'd wiggle against me like an eager puppy as I…

"What supplies do we need?" She interrupted my train of thought, just as I got carried away. I swallowed, my gut churning. What was that? She was a woman, not a pet. A fact my body was suddenly all too aware of.

"Rations for the road," I rasped. She cast me an annoyed look. It flickered for a second as she struggled to pull on her broken wing persona- but the glare won.

"Are you always so chatty?" She asked, dryly.

"Yes," I told her, and her exasperated huff drew a tiny smile onto my lips. That's right. I'm not going after your eggs, little bird.

It wasn't in my nature to ramble. She needed Bastian for that, or maybe Carlile when he was excited about something. Being in a market town was uncomfortable enough without filling the space between us with more talk.

If I didn't need to replenish my herb supply, my packmates wouldn't have expected me to do this chore. As we pushed further into the market and the crowd thickened, prickles of unease made me pick up speed. I glanced down at the beta and breathed in, hoping her scent would calm me, but of course she still had no scent.

Tension corded my muscles as people brushed past us. So many people. The one good thing about my own scent was that most took one sniff and then edged away from me. That made it easier to keep track of them, to make sure they weren't about to pounce. However, it was impossible in a crowd when scents swirled together and there was nowhere to go.

How did all these people live on top of each other? How did they go for candles without being enveloped in green? How did everyone live knowing they were surrounded by predators?

My breathing started to pick up past the danger point, until it was like the beating of wings. I tried to stop it. A meltdown here would be unrelenting. Dangerous. But the people kept brushing past, kept touching me and…

A cool hand pressed to my arm, and then I was being pulled out of the crowd and behind a market stall. The stall was built next to a tiny hill, but not quite flush against it, creating a space between with no expectations. A tiny copse of birch trees was there, barely to my shoulders, the leaves glittering in the morning sunlight. Suddenly I could breathe again.

The beta was watching me, but her eyes didn't feel bad against my skin. They felt kind. Like she was judging how to help, rather than looking for weak points. She backed up as much as the area allowed, giving me space, but not before I saw her nostrils flare again.

"Don't you hate it?"

She flinched and then looked at me with wide eyes. "Hate what?"

"My scent," I said. "It's… people tell me it's bad."

I couldn't name the look in her eyes for a moment and then it struck me. Incredulity. Was she surprised I asked such a ridiculous question? Of course my scent was bad. Of course she hated it.

I hated talking with people. Animals never hid what they meant.

Well, except for plovers, I guess. Little fakers.

"Are you kidding?" She said, finally. "You smell… amazing . One of the best scents I've ever…" She stopped and blushed. The rosy color worked its way along her cheeks to her ears and suddenly I wanted to nibble on them. Would they taste as sweet as she was?

The scent of her brother suddenly reared up in my memory and the dissonance, thinking of him, and seeing her, was powerful.

"I smell like a barnyard," I told her, not quite disagreeing, but… I'll admit it, shamelessly fishing for another compliment. The idea of it hadn't quite sunk in. Had she somehow mistaken my scent for one of my packmates? No one liked my scent, except for them. And even they didn't seem to like it much as tolerate it.

"You smell like…" She inhaled again, a dreamy look on her face. My lips parted and I had to dig my fingers into my palms to stop myself from petting her. My insides ached.

"Like fresh hay, fresh good hay cut from a field of wildflowers." Her face grew even redder and suddenly I had to have my hands on her, just for a moment. She was so small and soft, and her words felt as good as if a wild bird had suddenly sat on my shoulder.

"Animals do usually like my scent," I admitted as I edged closer to her. She had her back to the stall, and I moved slowly and smoothly, so as not to scare her off. Her eyes watched me but she didn't move.

I reached out a careful hand between us and cupped her face. My pale skin served to make her olive tones richer, and I followed the beautiful flush up her cheekbone to her ear with my thumb, almost reverently. The beta shuddered as my thumb traced the curve of her ear, just like I'd been longing to do.

Her lips parted and drew my gaze until they were the only thing I could see. I'd just about made up my mind to kiss her when a shadow of fear passed over her face. She ripped herself away from me so violently I grunted as if struck.

She didn't run, but stood only a few feet from me, panting. It took a tremendous effort not to chase after her.

That was ridiculous though. I knew from long experience not to chase a frightened animal. Not if I wanted it to trust me. I wasn't a hunter.

Yet for some reason I wanted this girl to be my prey.

"Um, I think we should get back to shopping," she said, and her voice was so unsteady I now had to fight the urge to hug her. To stroke her glorious dark curls and soothe her.

Or bite her pretty neck.

Maybe both. Fuck.

I didn't know what was wrong with me. Was it just because she was the first person outside of my pack who didn't hate my scent?

I turned my head to the birch trees, so that I couldn't see her, and took deep calming breaths. I couldn't stand doing that for long though. It felt wrong that I couldn't scent her at all. As if when she was out of sight she suddenly disappeared.

That thought caused an echo of my earlier panic to rise and I snapped my head back around.

She was crouching, looking at something on the back of the stall, and against my better judgement I stepped back into range of her body heat. I was careful not to touch her in case she bolted again.

"What are you looking at, little Starling?"

Did she shiver at the nickname or was I imagining it? I had no experience with women. How did Bastian do this?

I forced my eyes away from her face and caught sight of what had her attention. I immediately stiffened.

"Do you… Do you want me to get rid of it for you?"

The spider was large and beautiful, gleaming dark purple where the light hit it. It had cleverly woven its intricate net between the wood brackets of the lower part of the stall and the long stalks of grass that brushed up against them. Tucked out of sight, it could reap the rewards of the tiny patch of nature, as well as the bugs that humans invariably nurtured with their waste. I could see the remains of a cockroach caught on the edges of the lovely web.

I didn't want to chase it from its web, but if she wanted me to, I would. Maybe even… could I kill it? Girls didn't like spiders, right? Even some of my packmates were squeamish about them. I caught them for the maids all the time, and released them outside the fort, but if she wanted me to actually kill it…

"Don't you dare!" She said as if she could read my mind. "Violet hunters aren't dangerous. It's just pretty. I wanted to look at it."

She sighed and tension seemed to leave her body, even though I was crouched so closely to her.

"It knows the right way to live," she said. "This kind of liminal space is the safest place to be. Between the wild and the civilized, where it can experience the best of each world and be hidden from both."

I turned my eyes to her profile as she gazed at the little creature. It almost felt like I was floating outside my body.

It's pretty, and I wanted to look at it.

Oh my little Starling, I couldn't agree more.