Chapter Seventeen Rosemary

I was hauled out of bed at an ungodly time this morning, made to bathe and dress by the grumpy, yet persistent innkeeper, and sent down to eat amid a crowd of mumbling, bleary-eyed alphas. Now I was perched on a moving mountain of an animal, clinging to the leather saddle like a flea on a dog collar, and expected to act like I was fine and happy to be here. Here, smack bang in the center of a parade of alphas and beta soldiers, on our way to the capital.

I was not fine.

Even the brightening effects of coffee-and-milk, which I was rapidly becoming addicted to, couldn't make up for yet another night's rest broken by lustful dreams and potent nightmares. Poor Lynter had now joined his dream packmates in their attempts to ravish me (and dream Sinclair's attempts to be a creepy bastard), his bright lemon blossom and figs scent inspiring my dream self to new heights of debauchery. Debauchery which was made somehow worse by the fact that it never seemed to come to fruition before I woke up.

I had woken up three times last night, in fact, drenched in sweat that I wasn't sure was fear or lust induced, or maybe stemmed from some secret third emotion that I didn't recognize.

I couldn't rid myself of the sinking feeling that a heat was coming. My skin was itchy on the inside and there were too many alphas glued to my outsides. Cantor and Bastian seemed to relish my company for reasons I could hardly guess, and Sinclair was rarely out of my sight and even more rarely out of my nose.

I knew next to nothing about the way all this worked, but I did know that being around alphas could cause the heat cycle to start. It was one of the reasons my father never let them stay for very long, or use me too often. He had been worried they would ignore his posturing with the shotgun if I went into heat and began to influence them with my dirty pheromones.

Besides which, heats were dangerous.

The threat of them had seemed like one of the few advantages my own biology afforded me at the time, but a heat right now would end my world.

Lutin had no use for alphas or omegas, but my fellow countrymen loved to gossip about the things that made those strange, filthy creatures tick. And heats supposedly caused hedonistic hellscapes of the damned, so of course I'd heard every rumor that had ever made the rounds of my village about them. At least, I did before I morphed into one of the filthy creatures under discussion and no one would talk to me anymore.

Heats were days on end where the omega would beg for sex, crave it, need it to live. They lost every inch of sanity, everything that made them human, and became nothing more than a vessel for alphas to spend themselves in over and over. Their pheromones would drive alphas wild, sending them into a rut which was the alpha equivalent of heat. The scent of an omega in heat would call to alphas from miles away, drawing them in for a violent orgy that would last until the omega was pregnant, or dead. Omegas were often killed by the sheer force of it, used up until there was nothing left. Alphas might fight to the death just to get to an omega in heat. They would tear her to pieces just for a taste. They couldn't help it.

It was supposedly one of the reasons the king of Raksim so tightly controlled access to omegas. If a pack couldn't keep an omega safe, they were no use to the warlord king, so he only awarded them to his most fearsome warriors. We were a double-edged sword, both a reward and a punishment, and a means of testing the ability of the rabid groups of alphas at his command.

Packs like the Phoenix Pack.

Ivan and I needed to leave now , before I fully went into heat. The spellstone was barely coping under my normal interactions with alphas. There was no way it would last under the more powerful pheromones that would be released if I succumbed to a heat. Everything would be revealed in the most horrible way possible. I imagined Cantor and Bastian gripped by the lustful frenzy of rut and shuddered. My horse twitched underneath me at the movement and shook its head as if sympathizing with my morbid thoughts.

Of course, Sinclair already knew I was an omega, but for some reason it didn't seem like he had told anyone else. Bastian and Cantor weren't treating me any differently. They were riding on either side of me even now, Cantor his usual sweet and silent self, while Bastian greeted and teased everyone in sight. I couldn't imagine they would be so kind to me if they knew I was an omega. If they knew I'd been lying all this time.

And Davos had stuck my brother in a carriage, ‘for his own protection'. He'd almost certainly do the same to me if he knew.

Maybe I should tell him, if it would get me off this enormous hellbeast.

"You're sitting too stiffly," Cantor advised me in his raspy, gentle voice. "Marybell is a very calm mare, but if you're tense she will be too. She can tell if you're scared, and she'll start to think something is wrong. Then she'll get nervous." He patted my knee and the contact soothed me much more than it should have done. I sucked in my bottom lip and bit down to try and ground myself. Why were these alphas being so nice to me?

Why did I like it so much?

"So take a deep breath and relax."

I jumped as another hand touched my back, but it only stroked soothingly down my rigid spine. Unable to help myself, I felt more of the tension inside me ease as Bastian stroked me like a cat.

"There you go little… little beta." He growled with a hint of purr in his smooth, deep voice. God, could any woman resist that voice? Maybe it wasn't so much that I was an omega, and more that together they smelled like a delicious summer garden, and each had beautiful eyes, and both acted like being treated with kindness instead of cruelty was my right. Maybe they were simply irresistible to any woman.

Caught between Cantor's sweet nature and Bastian's charm I quickly melted, even stuck as I was on this wobbling pile of muscle and keratin.

It wasn't so bad. Cantor was right, the horse's gait smoothed out as my tension eased and I stopped gripping the reins like I was holding onto a collapsing rope bridge.

Maybe I could use this. I'd been slung like a sack of potatoes on the horses of the bounty hunters and hadn't been able to imagine using them as a means of escape. However, Marybell seemed responsive, even to me. Was it better to try and get away on the horse, or would that make it more likely for the pack to chase us? Was a horse worth more than a male omega?

Maybe we could use the horse in the initial escape, to get far enough away so that we lost sight of the pack, and then let it go. The alphas would chase after the more valuable commodity, right? They might not even notice that we had gone in another direction until it was too late.

That seemed like a plan. The pack could follow the horse and we'd disappear the other way.

Could a horse even carry us both? I was apparently tall for an omega, but Marybell didn't seem to mind my weight at all, and Ivan was short and slender for a beta, even if he was still half a head taller than me. I hoped he would know the answer. The only horse I had ever really been around before Marybell was the old, gray pony used by our village mill during the dry season. I liked giving her the occasional apple, but she had a bad back so no one ever rode her.

My lessons on riding continued through the morning as the sun warmed and sweat began to dampen the flanks of the horses. I had drunk through all the water in my personal cask, too thirsty to pace myself properly, and was starting to droop. I suspected, however, that inside the carriage was worse. The last candle before our lunch break at halfday was torturous, leaving me so thirsty I could hardly pay attention to Cantor's gentle guidance about the proper placement of my feet in the stirrups.

When Davos finally called a halt and Ivan stumbled out of his cage, soaked with sweat and moon-pale, I nearly fell off the horse and onto my ass trying to get to him. Skidding to a halt in front of the carriage door, I had to breathe through my mouth to avoid the cloud of perfume that had built up inside and was now pouring out into the air.

Still, I played my part well.

"You can't expect him to ride all afternoon in there," I protested, my voice shrill. I barely needed to fake it. Ivan looked ill from the heat. "It's like an oven! You're roasting him alive!"

I eyed Davos as I spoke, injecting as much venom into my words as I thought he could handle without snapping and beating the shit out of me. It was a fine line, pushing the one who controls you, without taking that one step too far. With my father the line was usually so close to the prize the two were often touching.

A few more moments with an open window. An extra scrap of sleep. A new book to read. At first it had been hard to justify wanting these things when arguing for them might snap my bones or bruise my eye sockets.

It was hard, right up until there was nothing left in my life except that line, and those prizes. After that I had flung myself against the line often, until the flinging became easy. Became the only game left to play.

Davos seemed wholly unprepared to deal with my ire, which surprised me. My father would have already had me by the hair if I'd raised my voice this much to him.

It should have felt freeing, but instead it was almost painful to press up against that boundary that had always been set for me, and then to surpass it.

But my brother was squeezing my hand in encouragement, letting me know I was doing the right thing, so I kept up my bitching and complaints.

"He had plenty of water," Davos said, his forehead creasing. Was that anger? Irritation? Guilt? "And the carriage should actually be cooler inside than…"

"He's an omega, he's delicate," I screeched, ignoring how Ivan twitched at my words, "and you're going to make him sick if you subject him to…"

My delicate brother could have easily kept himself cool in that carriage by magic, but I suspected he might have even made the heat worse instead, and played up his suffering so that he would be allowed to ride on a horse. We needed him to be habitually outside the carriage and this had seemed like the easiest way when we'd discussed options last night. My meek persona was well and truly dead. Why not try something else?

I saw the look that passed between Davos and Lynter as I began to holler the symptoms of hyperthermia. That look made me consider an avenue that hadn't occurred to me before.

The truth. Or something like it.

It would never have worked on my father, but…

"Please," I said, breaking my voice with a small sob. It wasn't hard. My vocal chords were not very happy with me. "My father kept us apart for so long. Please let me ride on a horse with my brother. I know we'll be separated again soon and we just..."

I trailed off and looked up through my lashes at the giant alpha packlead. To my surprise he actually seemed to be swayed, his eyes softening just a little bit.

So family was a weakness. I noted that to myself, even as my heart squeezed guiltily within me.

Still, I was not the bad guy here. Finding weaknesses in slavers was something the hero would do. I didn't owe them anything, not even basic human decency. After all, they wouldn't offer me any in return. Not if they knew what I was.

Sir Midwinter didn't say anything about letting Ivan ride with me, though, so I returned to what I knew might work and hoped my voice would last.

It turned out I could only be shrill and demanding for so long. My father had never actually let me run my course when I'd tried this tactic on him. Not even close. He'd always shut me up one way or another within a few moments, so I was actually surprised to discover that my ability to lash out was limited to only a few wicks, and not the candles I'd assumed.

Even as I was winding down, coughing more than I was screeching, the alphas were encouraging Ivan to drink a lot of water, and as soon as my lips closed for good Cantor sat next to me and all but hand fed me rations. I panted, not quite sure what had happened. Did I just concede? Did they just… ignore me, until my little hysterical fit finished?

The idea of it made me burn, but none of them seemed to notice or care.

Cantor scolded me when he discovered my empty water flask, and let me know all I had to do was ask for it to be filled. One of their beta soldiers would fill it from a pair of barrels that hung from a mule in our caravan, as many times as I wished. None of the rest of the alphas spoke to me, not even Bastian.

Before I realized what was happening, we were back on the horses.

And Ivan was with me.

It turned out Marybell was more than capable of carrying me and Ivan together. Of course, Cantor and Bastian were still bookending us, and we were surrounded by beta soldiers and the rest of the pack. However, it was a start, and my heart soared as I squeezed my brother's hands, clasped tightly around my middle. We were together, and on a horse.

Next stop, freedom.

As the sun finally began to trail down the western sky and the first breath of cooler air flowed along the path, Lynter trotted up beside us. His straight, black hair was tied back in a smooth ponytail, without a single patch of frizz in sight, as if we hadn't been riding through a humid oven all day. He rode his large roan gelding as easily as I'd ride a rocking horse, and my eyes drifted to his muscular thighs before I could stop them.

No. Bad omega. For gods' sakes, you've got your brother sitting behind you.

Lynter shooed Bastian and Cantor ahead, and took Bastian's place on our left hand side. I watched them go with a small amount of trepidation, but much more anticipation. Was this our chance? Right now there was no one on our right side at all. We were riding along beside a field of half-grown squash vines that looked easy enough to run through. I could turn Marybell's head and kick my feet into her sides…

Or should we wait for nightfall? My stomach ached as I tried to weigh up the chances. At least if I waited, we could discuss it again and maybe move under the cover of darkness, like we had when escaping from the bounty hunters.

Or was that only my fear talking?

Gods, I wanted to talk to Ivan. It was driving me to madness having my brother so close and yet still having no privacy to truly relax and speak freely.

"I need to apologize to you, beta," Lynter said. His voice was measured, but so stern I would have guessed he was scolding me if not for his words. "I did not adequately protect you. You… you were forced to protect me, in fact. That was not acceptable and I am sorry."

I couldn't help myself. I snorted. The alpha and his horse both snapped their eyes to me with shock that morphed to stern disapproval, as if both were gravely insulted.

"You have no need to apologize to me, Sir," I replied, and then blinked as the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch. The warmth that simple quirk of his lips brought to his face changed it utterly, and the difference flooded me with sudden gratitude. This man was also kind. Somehow, I just knew it, as I knew it about Bastian and Cantor.

These ridiculous feelings were giving me whiplash.

"You didn't need to protect me at all, but you took down two armed men by yourself. And you were gravely injured." I paused, and shuddered, remembering the puddle of blood that had spread under the alpha, his body growing cold in my arms. "You shouldn't even be traveling today."

"You are mistaken, girl," he replied, gruffly. "It was only a scratch. I am fine to travel."

"It didn't seem like a scratch when I was holding it closed," I told him. He frowned, as if he wanted to object, but was silent. Honestly, I was confused as well. I had been terrified he would die there and then, nevermind be well enough to ride a horse only two days later.

"Perhaps the men of Raksim are made of stern stuff," I said, shrugging and gripping my brother's hands tighter across my middle, as if he could ground me. "At any rate, please don't apologize to me for saving my life." I paused and then my godsknotted mouth kept going. "Although perhaps you could thank me for saving yours."

Lynter frowned at me again, his brows knitting together for several hoofbeats, and then he burst into laughter. The sound was so loud and unexpected coming from the dour man, all his packmates turned in their saddles to look at us. I blushed. In full view of them all, he swept me a seated bow.

The gesture was so grand I expected him to be mocking me, but there was nothing but sincerity in his voice when he said, "Thank you, Rosemary. You saved my life. If there's anything I can do for you, within my power, name it and it will be done."

I swallowed at the strange turn of events, blood pulsing heavily through my body in a sweeping rush at his acknowledgment, but pushed my luck a little further.

"You could let my brother and I go?"

The alpha stiffened at that, and once again he was frowning. For some reason it made my heart ache to see the glee slip from his face.

"I'm afraid that's not within my power, little warrior," he said slowly as if considering his words. "Your brother needs to be protected. We aren't going to harm him… or you," he added and my heart sank further. Of course not. No one was going to harm their shiny new breeding slave.

I gave him a tight-lipped smile and turned my face away, hoping he'd take the hint. It felt like something had snapped within me. The glittering gratitude, the sweet pulse of connection that had flowed into me when he bowed… it turned to ash.

Why did I keep hoping for better with these alphas?

"When will we head south?" My brother asked, speaking for the first time since Lynter arrived. "We've been heading west all day. If we go much further, we'll overshoot the capital by a considerable amount."

Ivan always impressed me. Frankly, I had no idea where we were in relation to our own country, let alone the capital of this one.

"We aren't going to the capital," Lynter replied.

I glanced at him and realized that, though the alpha was replying to my brother, he was still looking at me, his dark eyes steady. I forced my own eyes down as Ivan's grip on my hands tightened painfully.

"We're heading for our home, Fort Madder," Lynter said. "It's almost directly west from here."

Ivan tensed even more behind me.

"That's only three days from here," he bit out and I finally realized the reason for his distress.

We had thought we had ten days on the road to the capital, before we were put behind stone walls. Three days might not be long enough to stage an escape.

If they got us into their stronghold, we would be truly at their mercy. No matter how kind and charming they seemed to be, Ivan would be forced into a bond with alphas for ‘protection', and they would discover our ruse.

As panic rose in me, I barely heard Lynter pulling away from us and calling for Bastian and Cantor to come back. The world began to fade and I wobbled, almost slipping from the horse. Suddenly Ivan was pinching my shoulder, telling me to breathe, and the spots that had been dancing in my eyes receded.

"It will be OK," my brother whispered in my ear, even as he rubbed the sore spot he had pinched. He'd dug his nails in, the bastard. "Tonight we'll see what their routine is at camp, and if there's a way to escape together. If not… I'll go in the carriage again and cause a diversion tomorrow, and you will take off alone."

I squawked at that and he pinched my arm again in warning, making me flinch. Cantor was approaching from where he had been at the front of the line. He was watching me, his pale green eyes wary and far too close. I smiled weakly at him and punched Ivan lightly in his own arm, as if we were just having a normal family squabble.

"Don't fight me on this, Rosemary," he hissed in my ear. "You're the issue, remember? As soon as you get well away I can stop this perfume spell and they'll realize I'm not an omega. They'll just let me go."

"You don't know that," I whispered fiercely, even as I smarted from the low blow. I was the issue, he wasn't wrong. It still hurt to hear it. "They might be angry that you tricked them."

I felt Ivan shrug. "I… I actually don't think so. They don't seem all that thrilled to have me. I assumed they were taking me to the capital, but… I don't think they actually want to give me to the king, and they don't seem to know what to do with me." He lowered his voice even further and it darkened to the point that I could hardly understand his muttering. "You're actually getting far more attention from these assholes than I am, which worries the hell out of me."

My brother suddenly released my hands and gripped my face, turning me to look him in the eye. Cantor was only a few horse lengths away now and I couldn't see Bastian, but Ivan spoke so quietly I could barely hear him. "You need to remember that they will hurt you if they know what you are, little sister. Even the ones that seem nice. You know how alphas treat omegas they want to… want to fuck." I flinched and tried to draw back but he held me firmly. Too firmly.

"No matter how genuine they seem, no matter how charming, they can't resist their nature."

"Hey!" Cantor snapped. "Let go of her!"

Before his packmate could move, Bastian came up behind us and gripped Ivan's shoulder, squeezing it until my brother released me. My jaw throbbed, but I hardly noticed it. I understood he was doing it to try and get through to me. Me, the omega who had been slicking and perfuming all over these damn men.

I hoped the two alphas hadn't heard my brother's warning.

What about an omega's nature though? If the alphas couldn't be expected to control themselves, then what about me?

Saliva pooled in my mouth as if I would be sick, and I swallowed it down, scared of how much my mind was trying to rebel against Ivan's words. Bastian wouldn't hurt me, it tried to say. Cantor is a different kind of alpha. Lynter tried his best to protect me.

No, these men weren't different no matter what my treacherous body tried to tell me. A gilded cage is still a cage. They would use me themselves, or they would turn me over to others who would do the same. Their nature demanded it. Just like the nature of the wolf is to hunt rabbits.

My only chance at a good life, a free life, was to run and keep running until I never saw them again.

And maybe my brother's only chance at a good life was to be rid of me.

I caught Bastian's amber eyes on me, and his lips curved up in a heart-breaking smile. Those hopeful lips cracked open a space within me, in spite of all the warnings I had just absorbed. A space for hope to grow.

I knew then that I was in trouble.