Chapter Twelve Rosemary

I do like looking at spiders. Maybe they had scared me once, although I couldn't remember ever fearing them. I had a healthy respect for them, of course. However, I also understood the way they moved and knew which ones were truly dangerous and which were harmless. Unless a spider happened to be crawling over my face in the night, they didn't bother me. They had kept me company when I was chained in my father's home. When you've got nowhere to go, and limited means of entertainment, you quickly learn to appreciate the little things. Even the little eight-legged ones.

Right now, however, exaggerated appreciation for the violet hunter's calm presence was the only thing keeping my sanity in place. I needed to keep it together. My omega hind-brain was screaming at me to edge closer to this strange man crouched beside me, to lick him and bite him and beg for his knot and… What. The. Hell. Was. Wrong. With. Me?

Not only was he an alpha, he was part of a pack that wanted to enslave me. Even if he was somehow different the way my omega instincts were trying to convince me that he was, his packmates sure wouldn't be.

Besides, no one was going to believe I was a beta if I suddenly started begging for knots. I could feel the magic being sucked out of my poor, struggling spellstone even as I sat there, drowning in lust, half-expecting to perfume like a foggy morning, or to flood the area with my slick. Apparently being an omega was all about the weather metaphors.

I would have to see Ivan again already if I wasn't careful, and he would never let me hear the end of it. Even though apparently his spell was next to useless .

So I stared at the elegant creature that sat in the middle of its spiral of threads with not a care in the world, as if it was the most fascinating thing I'd ever seen. I ignored the huge, sweet-smelling alpha crouched next to me, radiating heat. I suspected he was staring at me but refused to let my eyes drift in his direction again.

He had been going to kiss me.

I had wanted him to kiss me.

" Right," I said and jumped to my feet. "Let's get those supplies."

I wasn't sure if it had been the crowd or something else which had made him seem so upset earlier, even paler than usual with an acrid edge to his scent that had upset me so much I went against my better judgment and put myself alone with him, but there was no trace of that panic now. He moved confidently from stall to stall, purchasing dried fish, fresh fruit and vegetables, and grains.

At first he kept all the packages in his own big hands, until the tottering pile became ridiculous and I insisted on taking them from him. I packed them carefully into the shoulder bags Bastian had given me before we left.

Cantor was an excellent judge of quality when it came to the plant-based food, but to my surprise he asked for my opinion when it came to the fish and meat.

" I'm a vegetarian," he said when I raised an eyebrow in question. "I eat fish sometimes… if I have to."

For some reason I'd assumed he was a hunter. He might have been tall and gangly, but he moved with grace and the smooth intensity I associated with trackers and hunters. He'd also seemed so comfortable in the forest.

" You're not a hunter? But…" I trailed off. He had no reason to lie to me, but I'd never heard of anyone turning down meat.

He cast a glance over the butcher's stall we were standing in front of and winced. Pointing his chin at a brace of rabbits hanging from the top, he said, "I just… I like rabbits too much to want to eat them."

" Oh," I said, taking in his expression and the tinge of sadness that had entered his scent. It tasted like damp hay, a wisp of must that made me want to hold his hand until it went away.

" I guess that makes sense," I said quietly. I'd never considered it before. I liked animals a lot. Clever, elegant spiders, the cute little mice that dared to run along our walls, the tiny birds that I could sometimes coax close to the window with a few crumbs of stale bread. They had been distractions for me. Little starry points of light in a dark, dreary world where everything was horrible monotony, or if not, it was somehow worse.

However, food was scarce at the best of times. In my village, if you were lucky enough to be served meat you didn't turn it down.

Still, he was in a prince pack. The man could afford to turn down food.

" I like rabbits too, but food is food." I searched his pale green eyes, curious as to whether I would find judgment there. I wanted to find it. It would give me an excuse to hate him.

Instead, Cantor smiled at me, his beaming warmth so innocent I instinctively smiled back, and then something darker and richer flashed in his eyes as they flicked down to my lips.

" I like you as well, little Starling," he said, huskily. "I can't promise I wouldn't eat you, given the chance."

I stilled, as if the world had gone silent except for the thunder of my heart in my ears. Did he… did he really just say that? And then the most adorable blush flooded his face, lighting up his pale skin like the flush of red on an autumn apple. His eyes darted away from mine as his whole head seemed to glow. I felt my heart creak as it filled up to the brim. This alpha was embarrassed .

I wanted to lick the blush from his cheeks.

I forced my eyes away from his treacherous green softness and stared at the selection of dried meat until I had myself under control again.

For the first time I wondered if my father was right to lock me up. Maybe all omegas were sluts, quick to drool over alphas regardless of propriety. Maybe we were no better than livestock. I was behaving like an animal, lost to mating instinct. None of the alphas my father had taken money from had ever affected me like this. They had repulsed me. I'd always kept that feeling at the forefront of my mind when my father had gone on his little rants, because it contradicted him so thoroughly. I thought it was because I chose to hate them. That I had decided to feel disgust, and so I felt it. But how much easier this would be if I could truly decide that. If I could order my brain to stop imagining the feel of Cantor's hands on my hips, his lips against mine?

It seemed I couldn't trust myself at all.

Before I revealed as an omega, I had helped my father purchase food supplies on a regular basis so I had no trouble picking out the best preserved chunks of meat for us to purchase. At least, I had no trouble once I stopped gazing at Cantor with hearts in my eyes and ignored that delicious scent of hay that was radiating off him.

Next was a herb stall, and it was here that I finally put two together.

" It was you! Those creams on my bruises when I first…" I stopped short, icy panic gripping my insides. Someone had washed me. Dressed me in that linen shift. "Did you put that ointment on me?"

He frowned at my expression then his eyes flooded with concern. He was really very bad at keeping his expressions out of his face. Everything showed there, as if he were a child. "Ointments?" He asked. "I gave some to the innkeeper's daughters for you and your brother, but I didn't treat you directly."

I stared in his face, looking for the lie, but he didn't even seem to realize why I was upset. I relaxed and, after a moment, he did too.

" They were really good," I admitted. "I thought I could smell calendula and comfrey… anything else?"

I tensed as it suddenly occurred to me that one of the things I could scent in the lotion was his own scent, but he didn't seem to notice my slight unease.

His face lit up and he started to list herbs and methods of preparation. His enthusiasm was adorable.

Swallowing hard, I kept my eyes on the crowded market so that I could take in his words and not get lost in his eyes again. He knew a lot about herbs. I could learn so much from him.

That's how I saw it. A face flashing past, as if the owner didn't want to be seen. A leather vest, not quite armor, but sturdy and tough. A set of cold eyes caught on mine briefly, like the slice of a knife.

A bounty hunter.