Chapter Fourteen Rosemary

Walking through the market again the next day, it felt good to have Cantor by my side. His hand gripped mine with firm but gentle fingers and his thumb stroked my palm lightly, focusing all my attention on the sensual movement.

When I looked up from our hands, the market was empty. Before I could ask what was happening, Cantor began pulling me into an alley. His hand was so warm. So insistent.

In the alley, he pushed me up against the wall of a building, pinning me in place as if I weighed nothing at all, and my omega hind-brain was ecstatic at the display of strength and possessiveness. His pale hand slid up the curve of my hip, like butter on a hot pan.

I waited for fear to strike me, to remind me that this was an alpha, that he was touching me, that it was going to hurt, but there was no panic in me, only an aching, all- consuming need in the pit of my stomach. When his mouth landed on mine I opened my lips to him immediately. His tongue licked in, dancing with mine, moving with a passion I'd barely glimpsed so far in those pale green eyes, and all I wanted was to press closer. To feel more with him.

A second pair of hands was sliding up my legs, under my skirt, as Cantor used one hand to press me into the wall and the other to cup my breast through my dress, but all I did was moan into his mouth and adjust my stance, spreading my legs for Bastian. The big, charming alpha was on his knees next to me, running eager fingers over my skin. They stroked higher, aiming for the junction of my thighs.

Lust ignited in my lower belly, fiercer than I'd ever felt before, as their scents eddied around me, sweet and summery, but it felt wrong somehow. It felt empty. My own scent was missing, when it should be tangled with the others. As if I was not really there, pressed against these men. The lack of it made me more desperate for their touch, but even as I noticed my lack of scent, they both went still. I squeezed my legs together, trying to catch Bastion's hands between them, but he slid them down and back and stepped away from me.

Cantor pulled his mouth from mine and I tried to follow, like the needy, pathetic omega I was, but I was still caught on the wall, trapped now, on something sticky.

A spider web, spread between the two buildings like a tangled net. I screamed, all the lust in me turned to fear and ash as the two alphas made no move to help me. They only looked up, smiling, and dread filled me as I followed their gazes.

A giant spider, with Sinclair's cold, dark blue eyes, was crawling towards me, attracted by my thrashing. Its stare pinned me down as it locked on my own, petrichor-scented poison dripping from its fangs.

I woke with a gasp, dread pouring through me in that overwhelming way of nightmares, and it took several breaths to convince myself that I wasn't in imminent danger of death. That I was still in my room at the inn, that there was nothing wrong, that there's no reason to fear.

Except that there is something wrong. I can hear noises outside my door. Shuffling and thuds like a furtive fist fight. A masculine grunt as if someone had been struck.

True fear lanced through me like an icy spear and I'd thrown back my blankets before I realized I had no idea what to do. Should I stay in the room? Meek Rosemary would definitely stay in the room.

However, real Rosemary was the one I had to live with for the rest of my life, so I knew she had to make the decision this time.

Maybe it was sensible to stay put, and hope for the best. I was fairly certain that at least one of the prince pack had been lurking in my corridors again, guarding me, even though it seemed like a fools errand. They were all muscular men, and obviously trained in combat. Even Bastian who seemed to enjoy physical activity about as much as I did, moved with the confidence of a warrior.

Still, it didn't sound like only two men out there. It sounded like at least three, maybe four, and I was pretty sure whoever was guarding me had a key to my room.

That meant I was tossing a coin that whoever won the scuffle would stay outside my door, which didn't seem likely if the bad guys won.

Ha, it was more like rolling a set of rigged dice. My brother's false scent still lingered in the hallway, even now.

And what if it's Bastian out there? What if it's Cantor? I had no doubt the sweet, rawboned alpha could fight if he had to, but the man was a vegetarian. He didn't even want to hurt rabbits .

It was that thought that propelled me out of bed.

I cast around the room for a weapon but once again came up short. My bathing basin, a thin, hammered metal bowl about the size of a loaf of bread, was the best I could find. It was too light to do much damage, but I decided I'd just have to swing hard. If Cantor needed me to take down some rabbits for him, I would do it.

Ignoring the ridiculousness of that thought, I lit a candle with shaking hands, then padded toward my door, trying to make sense of the grunts and muffled cries of pain, the slap of flesh on flesh. It sounded like the combatants were a pace or two to the right of my door. Good. That meant I could peek out, take a quick look and, depending on what I saw, I could attack or flee.

I eased open the door with trembling hands and poked my head out. The corridor was dim, even compared to my own, barely-lit room, but moonlight shone in from the window at the end of it. Three men were struggling in the tiny space, only an arms-length from me. So close I could smell their sweat and anger, like a palpable blow on my senses.

My fear surged like acid in my veins as I recognized the faint scents of two of the bounty hunters. The one who smelled like mildew, and the leader, whose stench always reminded me of an abattoir- like fresh meat on a good day, and rotting corpses on a bad day. Today was obviously not a good day for him.

The two men were currently driving one of the pack back toward me. It wasn't Cantor or Bastian. It was the one who usually smelled of lemon blossom and figs. His scent was bitter now, closer to the sharp tang of fresh lemon peel, with an edge of rot that made the hair on my arms stand on end. Mixed with the heavy meat scent and must of the other two men, the combination turned my stomach. Gripping the door, I doubled over to retch, trying to force the bile down before it gave me away. This wasn't the time or the place for weakness. As I pulled myself upright, my face beaded with sweat, the leader of the bounty hunters met my eyes. It was only a flick of his gaze, but he instantly began to fight harder, redoubling his efforts. To my shock I realized none of them had blades. Sir Lemonblossom had surrounded his fists with yellow flame that sparked and hisses when he lashed at the betas. His magic flickered between the men with every blow, lighting up their metal buckles and jewelry with stinging shocks that made them flinch. The leader was using magic as well, although it was much darker and hard for me to see against the showy yellow flames. I cast my eyes to the floor, hoping to see dropped swords or knives there for the taking, but if they had dropped any the weapons were nowhere close to me.

Sir Lemonblossom was being driven back toward me. His legs were shaking, and blood was dripping to the floor beneath him. The yellow magic was guttering, taking on that blackened edge which meant he was starting to draw on his own life force.

He managed to duck a blow and lunged forward, putting all his weight into a counter attack. The mildewy beta was knocked into a wall, and slumped down, seemingly out cold. Ignoring his friend, the leader advanced. Dark red magic flared around him, forming a shield that the yellow magic, weak as it now was, couldn't penetrate.

Sir Lemonblossom- Lynter- stepped back one more time, now close enough for my breath to move the long, black hair of his pony tail. He didn't glance at me, but took up a defensive pose just slightly ahead of me.

" Run, little beta," he said hoarsely, without taking his eyes from his foe. "Find my pack, get to safe-"

The leader took that moment to strike, a quick blow that rose up under Lynter's defense. The shaky alpha tried to block it, but he was too slow. The sound of his ribs snapping tore a shriek from my throat.

Lynter staggered back and, before I knew what I was doing, I darted forward to catch him, getting my body underneath his before his skull could smash into the floor.

" No," he breathed, his head cradled in my hands as he looked up at me. His magic flickered out and his dark eyes clouded, then closed. Blood poured from a wound in his side, and I shuddered from the heat of it as it soaked into my skirt. It was too much. There was too much blood.

I dropped my pathetic bowl and used my free hand to press his wound, trying to push the ragged sides of it together. Whatever the beta had struck him with had gone right through his leather jerkin and I yanked hard at the edges of his torn shirt underneath, trying to bunch it up enough to staunch the flow of blood.

I'd never even spoken to the man, but he'd tried to protect me. He'd tried until his very last scrap of vitality was used up.

Rage filled me as I looked up at the advancing hunter, his raw meat scent flooding my nose, mixing with the smell of blood, like a promise.

" You're mine, omega," he growled, low and deep, as if he were trying to match an alpha growl. Knowing that I was barely a threat, he dropped his red magic shield entirely. "I own you and I will get my due."

I glared at him, and eased Lynter's head tenderly onto the ground. Then I gripped my stupid metal basin in one hand, still kneeling as my mind raced, as trying to figure out a way to save myself without abandoning Lynter to this pathetic dog of a man.

The hunter didn't give me much time to think. He lunged forward without warning, grabbing my wrist from where I held it on the wound of the fallen alpha. I threw myself to the side and lashed out with the bowl as hard as I could. It met his skill and flew from my hands. The blow barely registered on him, but I cursed as it reverberated up my arm, turning it numb. The bounty hunter had released me in his surprise, and I crouched over Lynter, quickly putting pressure on his wound again. It wasn't enough. The puddle of red under us was growing too quickly.

My mind was empty of everything except wanting to save the alpha below me. If my capture was inevitable now, by one group or another, I'd at least try to save his life. I'd seen what the bounty hunters did to their helpless victims.

Maybe, if I put up enough of a fight, the beta in front of me wouldn't bother to hurt Lynter. Maybe he'd just take me and go.

And maybe I could scratch his bloody meat-scented eyes out as a bonus.

Following an instinct I didn't examine, I took Lynter's cold, limp hand with my free one and squeezed it, bracing for the hunter's next move.

Within a heartbeat he had lunged forward again. Even though it made no sense at all, I raised my other hand, still soaked in Lynter's blood, to defend myself, calling for the magic that I couldn't access. It was a stupid thing to do.

To my shock, a muddy yellow beam of power shot from my palm and struck my attacker right in the chest. His body was flung back, landing several paces from us, with thud I felt in the floorboards beneath me.

A sharp intake of breath came from behind me, but I barely registered it. Dizziness flooded me, my stomach lurching at the way the whole world seemed to sway. I had a momentary burst of common sense and managed to clap my hand back onto Lynter's wound, but was horrified to find it was barely bleeding now. Had he died? No! No, he can't have died!

My body rebelled. Bending over to vomit from my crouching position, I lost my balance and went sprawling. Dots burst in front of my eyes, swarming across my vision until I could see no more, and then, thankfully, everything went black.

Walking through the market again the next day, it felt good to have Cantor by my side. His hand gripped mine with firm but gentle fingers and his thumb stroked my palm lightly, focusing all my attention on the sensual movement.

When I looked up from our hands, the market was empty. Before I could ask what was happening, Cantor began pulling me into an alley. His hand was so warm. So insistent.

In the alley, he pushed me up against the wall of a building, pinning me in place as if I weighed nothing at all, and my omega hind-brain was ecstatic at the display of strength and possessiveness. His pale hand slid up the curve of my hip, like butter on a hot pan.

I waited for fear to strike me, to remind me that this was an alpha, that he was touching me, that it was going to hurt, but there was no panic in me, only an aching, all-consuming need in the pit of my stomach. When his mouth landed on mine I opened my lips to him immediately. His tongue licked in, dancing with mine, moving with a passion I'd barely glimpsed so far in those pale green eyes, and all I wanted was to press closer. To feel more with him.

A second pair of hands was sliding up my legs, under my skirt, as Cantor used one hand to press me into the wall and the other to cup my breast through my dress, but all I did was moan into his mouth and adjust my stance, spreading my legs for Bastian. The big, charming alpha was on his knees next to me, running eager fingers over my skin. They stroked higher, aiming for the junction of my thighs.

Lust ignited in my lower belly, fiercer than I'd ever felt before, as their scents eddied around me, sweet and summery, but it felt wrong somehow. It felt empty. My own scent was missing, when it should be tangled with the others. As if I was not really there, pressed against these men. The lack of it made me more desperate for their touch, but even as I noticed my lack of scent, they both went still. I squeezed my legs together, trying to catch Bastion's hands between them, but he slid them down and back and stepped away from me.

Cantor pulled his mouth from mine and I tried to follow, like the needy, pathetic omega I was, but I was still caught on the wall, trapped now, on something sticky.

A spider web, spread between the two buildings like a tangled net. I screamed, all the lust in me turned to fear and ash as the two alphas made no move to help me. They only looked up, smiling, and dread filled me as I followed their gazes.

A giant spider, with Sinclair's cold, dark blue eyes, was crawling towards me, attracted by my thrashing. Its stare pinned me down as it locked on my own, petrichor-scented poison dripping from its fangs.

***

I woke with a gasp, dread pouring through me in that overwhelming way of nightmares, and it took several breaths to convince myself that I wasn't in imminent danger of death. That I was still in my room at the inn, that there was nothing wrong, that there's no reason to fear.

Except that there is something wrong. I can hear noises outside my door. Shuffling and thuds like a furtive fist fight. A masculine grunt as if someone had been struck.

True fear lanced through me like an icy spear and I'd thrown back my blankets before I realized I had no idea what to do. Should I stay in the room? Meek Rosemary would definitely stay in the room.

However, real Rosemary was the one I had to live with for the rest of my life, so I knew she had to make the decision this time.

Maybe it was sensible to stay put, and hope for the best. I was fairly certain that at least one of the prince pack had been lurking in my corridors again, guarding me, even though it seemed like a fools errand. They were all muscular men, and obviously trained in combat. Even Bastian who seemed to enjoy physical activity about as much as I did, moved with the confidence of a warrior.

Still, it didn't sound like only two men out there. It sounded like at least three, maybe four, and I was pretty sure whoever was guarding me had a key to my room.

That meant I was tossing a coin that whoever won the scuffle would stay outside my door, which didn't seem likely if the bad guys won.

Ha, it was more like rolling a set of rigged dice. My brother's false scent still lingered in the hallway, even now.

And what if it's Bastian out there? What if it's Cantor? I had no doubt the sweet, rawboned alpha could fight if he had to, but the man was a vegetarian. He didn't even want to hurt rabbits .

It was that thought that propelled me out of bed.

I cast around the room for a weapon but once again came up short. My bathing basin, a thin, hammered metal bowl about the size of a loaf of bread, was the best I could find. It was too light to do much damage, but I decided I'd just have to swing hard. If Cantor needed me to take down some rabbits for him, I would do it.

Ignoring the ridiculousness of that thought, I lit a candle with shaking hands, then padded toward my door, trying to make sense of the grunts and muffled cries of pain, the slap of flesh on flesh. It sounded like the combatants were a pace or two to the right of my door. Good. That meant I could peek out, take a quick look and, depending on what I saw, I could attack or flee.

I eased open the door with trembling hands and poked my head out. The corridor was dim, even compared to my own, barely-lit room, but moonlight shone in from the window at the end of it. Three men were struggling in the tiny space, only an arms-length from me. So close I could smell their sweat and anger, like a palpable blow on my senses.

My fear surged like acid in my veins as I recognized the faint scents of two of the bounty hunters. The one who smelled like mildew, and the leader, whose stench always reminded me of an abattoir- like fresh meat on a good day, and rotting corpses on a bad day. Today was obviously not a good day for him.

The two men were currently driving one of the pack back toward me. It wasn't Cantor or Bastian. It was the one who usually smelled of lemon blossom and figs. His scent was bitter now, closer to the sharp tang of fresh lemon peel, with an edge of rot that made the hair on my arms stand on end. Mixed with the heavy meat scent and must of the other two men, the combination turned my stomach. Gripping the door, I doubled over to retch, trying to force the bile down before it gave me away. This wasn't the time or the place for weakness. As I pulled myself upright, my face beaded with sweat, the leader of the bounty hunters met my eyes. It was only a flick of his gaze, but he instantly began to fight harder, redoubling his efforts. To my shock I realized none of them had blades. Sir Lemonblossom had surrounded his fists with yellow flame that sparked and hisses when he lashed at the betas. His magic flickered between the men with every blow, lighting up their metal buckles and jewelry with stinging shocks that made them flinch. The leader was using magic as well, although it was much darker and hard for me to see against the showy yellow flames. I cast my eyes to the floor, hoping to see dropped swords or knives there for the taking, but if they had dropped any the weapons were nowhere close to me.

Sir Lemonblossom was being driven back toward me. His legs were shaking, and blood was dripping to the floor beneath him. The yellow magic was guttering, taking on that blackened edge which meant he was starting to draw on his own life force.

He managed to duck a blow and lunged forward, putting all his weight into a counter attack. The mildewy beta was knocked into a wall, and slumped down, seemingly out cold. Ignoring his friend, the leader advanced. Dark red magic flared around him, forming a shield that the yellow magic, weak as it now was, couldn't penetrate.

Sir Lemonblossom- Lynter- stepped back one more time, now close enough for my breath to move the long, black hair of his pony tail. He didn't glance at me, but took up a defensive pose just slightly ahead of me.

" Run, little beta," he said hoarsely, without taking his eyes from his foe. "Find my pack, get to safe-"

The leader took that moment to strike, a quick blow that rose up under Lynter's defense. The shaky alpha tried to block it, but he was too slow. The sound of his ribs snapping tore a shriek from my throat.

Lynter staggered back and, before I knew what I was doing, I darted forward to catch him, getting my body underneath his before his skull could smash into the floor.

" No," he breathed, his head cradled in my hands as he looked up at me. His magic flickered out and his dark eyes clouded, then closed. Blood poured from a wound in his side, and I shuddered from the heat of it as it soaked into my skirt. It was too much. There was too much blood.

I dropped my pathetic bowl and used my free hand to press his wound, trying to push the ragged sides of it together. Whatever the beta had struck him with had gone right through his leather jerkin and I yanked hard at the edges of his torn shirt underneath, trying to bunch it up enough to staunch the flow of blood.

I'd never even spoken to the man, but he'd tried to protect me. He'd tried until his very last scrap of vitality was used up.

Rage filled me as I looked up at the advancing hunter, his raw meat scent flooding my nose, mixing with the smell of blood, like a promise.

" You're mine, omega," he growled, low and deep, as if he were trying to match an alpha growl. Knowing that I was barely a threat, he dropped his red magic shield entirely. "I own you and I will get my due."

I glared at him, and eased Lynter's head tenderly onto the ground. Then I gripped my stupid metal basin in one hand, still kneeling as my mind raced, as trying to figure out a way to save myself without abandoning Lynter to this pathetic dog of a man.

The hunter didn't give me much time to think. He lunged forward without warning, grabbing my wrist from where I held it on the wound of the fallen alpha. I threw myself to the side and lashed out with the bowl as hard as I could. It met his skill and flew from my hands. The blow barely registered on him, but I cursed as it reverberated up my arm, turning it numb. The bounty hunter had released me in his surprise, and I crouched over Lynter, quickly putting pressure on his wound again. It wasn't enough. The puddle of red under us was growing too quickly.

My mind was empty of everything except wanting to save the alpha below me. If my capture was inevitable now, by one group or another, I'd at least try to save his life. I'd seen what the bounty hunters did to their helpless victims.

Maybe, if I put up enough of a fight, the beta in front of me wouldn't bother to hurt Lynter. Maybe he'd just take me and go.

And maybe I could scratch his bloody meat-scented eyes out as a bonus.

Following an instinct I didn't examine, I took Lynter's cold, limp hand with my free one and squeezed it, bracing for the hunter's next move.

Within a heartbeat he had lunged forward again. Even though it made no sense at all, I raised my other hand, still soaked in Lynter's blood, to defend myself, calling for the magic that I couldn't access. It was a stupid thing to do.

To my shock, a muddy yellow beam of power shot from my palm and struck my attacker right in the chest. His body was flung back, landing several paces from us, with thud I felt in the floorboards beneath me.

A sharp intake of breath came from behind me, but I barely registered it. Dizziness flooded me, my stomach lurching at the way the whole world seemed to sway. I had a momentary burst of common sense and managed to clap my hand back onto Lynter's wound, but was horrified to find it was barely bleeding now. Had he died? No! No, he can't have died!

My body rebelled. Bending over to vomit from my crouching position, I lost my balance and went sprawling. Dots burst in front of my eyes, swarming across my vision until I could see no more, and then, thankfully, everything went black.