Chapter Twenty-Seven Rosemary

I figured that during my ten day reprieve my captors would try to romance and seduce me. I was planning to do the exact same thing to each of them, after all, digging for a weakness that I could exploit. Somehow my heart couldn't quite bring itself to believe that this was the end of the road. Maybe I had to believe that I could still get away, otherwise what was the point of going on? I had only survived my father because Ivan had given me hope. I already knew, down to my bones, that I would die before I lived as the kind of slave a bonded omega would make.

They wanted me to have the illusion of choice, to willingly bare my neck so they could make a doll of me without a struggle. Seduction, when a man does it, means jewelry and flowers and sweetmeats and silver-tongued compliments. Women have sold their souls for less.

I knew that all too well. My ex never bothered with more than an occasional wildflower, shoved into my hand, right before his tongue was shoved into my mouth, but the principle was the same. I'd found his half-assed attempts at romance adorable at the time, but I was a stupid sixteen-year-old and didn't realize I was giving up my only real worth for something that took him five seconds of thought to obtain.

It took him much more effort to scrounge up the coin to pay for my mouth after my reveal. I had been selling myself much too cheaply.

Maybe my father knew best after all.

At any rate, he had prepared me well for the transactional nature of courtship as an omega.

So, when Lynter offered to give me a few training sessions, I was thrilled. I expected a bit of banter, maybe a few tips on how to hold a knife, and a lot of him needing to press his body up against me to ‘adjust my stance'.

I've read my brother's adventure books. I know how fighters ‘train' women they want to fuck.

However, I also know that those women almost always need the knife tips later on in the book. Predictable tropes aside, I was more than happy to take any tips he might offer, and the seduction as well if it would serve me. A half-candle or so of easy exercise before he got bored- or perhaps over-lustful- was a small price to pay if it kept me safe later on.

I was disabused of the alpha's expectations from the first moment. As we entered the training yard that lay to the side of the main castle, still within the walls of the fort, Lynter eyed my skirts, then strode to one of several chests lining the outside of the yard and tossed me a pair of mens trousers and a belt. I blinked at them in surprise.

"Here," he said, then pointed to a door across the yard. "The women change in that room as needed. You can keep a single skirt layer if you must, but all of them together will be too heavy and clumsy." After rummaging through another chest he handed me a pair of leather gloves and heavy boots, my arms sagging from the weight. The boots alone would more than make up for any lack of heavy skirts.

"These should fit fine," he continued. "They're kept here for women to train, since they usually don't do it long enough to have their own made. We'll have some made for you though, once everything is… settled."

I just stared down at the pile of garments. He really wanted me to wear these? Was this somehow part of the seduction?

"Go on now," Lynter said. He strode away from me, grasped a heavy wooden sword from a stack of them, and began swinging it around himself in a rhythmic manner. "You can't train properly in skirts, with bare hands. You'll hurt yourself if you try."

I stumbled away to the door he'd pointed out and found myself in a small, windowless room with wooden benches around the edge of it. The space was lit by spell lamps set in the walls. I took a moment to stare again at the trousers. I had thought they were for men, because of course I did! But these were too small to be for an adult man, and too wide at the hip and buttocks to be for a boy.

I was suddenly giddy. I'd been one of those girl-children who was constantly stealing her brother's clothes to climb trees and chase rabbits without the frustration of skirts and laces tripping me. If this was some trick, some test I was supposed to fail so they would punish me… so be it. I would take the punishment and more for a chance to move freely through the world, even if only for a few moments.

Lynter and Carlile were both waiting for me when I left the room. Standing next to each other like this, it was easy to see that they were brothers, at least half, if not full. Both had the silky black hair and narrow, almond-shaped eyes characteristic of the area around the capital of Raksim. Lynter's hair was straight as silk thread, and would have fallen past his shoulders if it wasn't tied back in a severe ponytail, while Carlile's was shorter and had a slight wave, which I suspected he put there himself with a curling iron.

They were the same height, about a head taller than me, with long, lean limbs. Lynter was heavier in muscle and had a slightly rougher face- his nose looked like it had been broken at least once. His eyes were a striking hazel-blue, a color I had never seen before, like autumn leaves on blue water. Carlile had a fuller mouth and a slightly narrower nose, paired with the more typical dark-brown eye color he shared with Davos. Each of them was wearing full leathers, Lynter's with soft lemon-yellow trim and Carlile's lined by rich indigo.

Both alphas ran their eyes down my body when they spotted me, but somehow it didn't feel lecherous. More like they were assessing me, which, honestly, felt worse.

I knew what they saw. Even with a week or more of fleeing and stress under my belt, my muscles were wasted. My father had not exactly starved me, but he hadn't fed me nutritious meals either, so my skin was still sallow and dry, my hair dull, my limbs and belly chubby but slack. It was much easier to hide such things under layers of full skirts, but I told myself I didn't care. I only needed their lust so far as it would aid me in my escape. I was an omega. They were alphas. They'd lust after me if I was pock-ridden, hairless, and filthy, lying in a gutter.

The way Lynter's eyes lingered on my ankle however, and the slip of tattered skin there left bare by the slightly too-short trousers, made my eyes burn and my stomach clench as if warding off a blow. I marched forward with my face as blank as I could make it, not looking either of them in the eye and forcing myself not to limp.

He could give me some fighting tips, with no additional comments, or he could get the hell away from me.

Lynter did not give me any tips. Nor did he go easy on me. Which was… well it was good in theory. In practice it was exhausting. And painful.

The last few days I'd had more exercise than in the last few years combined. It's difficult to maintain muscle mass when you're chained to a wall and your demented father feeds you pig slop rather than meat or vegetables. Still, I had hoped that after all that awful horseback riding I had built up a modicum of fitness.

I was proved wrong within five wicks. Lynter "put me through my paces" as he called it, asking me to copy a series of movements and stretches, and then run around the training yard over and over again.

He followed me, his eyes glued to my movements, but kept his face passive, showing no satisfaction or disappointment, no matter how I panted or grunted or melted into a puddle of soggy omega.

What was worse than his indifference was that I kept checking for a reaction, unable to control myself, and was stabbed with disappointment over and over to find him utterly neutral.

Finally, with my face flushed tomato red and my clothes dark with sweat, I stopped running and burst out at him.

"Go on, tell me I'm useless." My words flew out between gasping pulls of air. "We can stop this now."

Lynter only raised one of his thick, dark, not-even-a-little-damp brows at me. The alpha had run next to me for every pace of my torture, and he was wearing full leather armor.

The man wasn't human.

"Are you useless?" He asked. "I hadn't noticed."

I scoffed and collapsed to sit on the low stone wall surrounding the yard. I half-expected Lynter to order me upright again, but instead he passed me some water. I downed the whole cup in a few gulps and then was shocked when he lifted a slice of orange straight to my lips.

Without thinking, I bit into it.

The sharp sweetness burst onto my tongue, almost painfully, making me think, for some reason, of Davos. The two brothers were so different. Even their scents were almost opposites, Davos sharp and woodsy and harsh, while Lynter was floral and light. Lemon blossom and figs. Somehow, as I ate from his hand, and color flooded my cheeks, his scent seemed to become richer, the fig undertone reminding me of the enormous tree at the center of our village square, and the preserved figs we all shared from it. A scent which meant both cooling shade from the summer sun and decadent, warm winter desserts. Sweetened by his tangy lemon blossom, delicate and fresh, it made my mouth water.

Suddenly my instincts were urging me to lick up the single bead of sweat trailing down the side of his face. The thought should have disgusted me.

The fact that it didn't was disturbing.

"I have noticed," he said, after a long silence, while we both watched Carlile dancing around the yard, waving a practice sword, "that you heavily favor your right leg."

He could have made it a question, but he didn't. He also could have just asked directly about the big, ugly mess of my ankle, but he didn't.

Perhaps that's why I answered him.

I drew up the leg of my trousers to show him the heavy, pink scar tissue that wrapped around my right ankle. It was layered, with newer parts the color of a robin's breast, and the oldest dulled to a dark rosewood. It told the story of the many, many times my skin had been irritated by my struggles, or flayed open by despair.

He hissed at the sight, a brief, angry noise that startled me coming from such a stoic alpha, and I let the cloth fall. Only a slim wedge of skin was left visible but Lynter didn't take his eyes from it.

"What the hell did that?" He said, then answered himself immediately, before I could even open my mouth. "That's a shackle scar. You aren't old enough to…"

"I'm 23," I said, interrupting him.

He flicked his eyes to mine and I knew he'd done the calculation in his mind. Omegas usually reveal when their scent comes in a few years after they hit puberty. I was actually lucky mine didn't come earlier. I got to enjoy my freedom until I was almost 18, at least.

"My father didn't want his little money-making omega to escape once he knew he had one."

I shrugged, as if it meant nothing. Didn't it mean nothing?

Nothing to these alphas, at least.

His reaction had to be a charade. His own brother had tied me up and thrown me in their dungeon and none of them had said a word against it.

True, from what little I remembered, their dungeon was actually nicer than the cottage where I'd been imprisoned, but it was still a prison. Still a cell, with bars all around. If Sinclair hadn't pumped buckets of magic into my throat I'd already have a fun scar from it.

I fully expected that was where they would keep me once all this posturing and playacting was done.

Maybe he was shocked that his slave had once been owned and marred by someone else?

Still, I'd expected this impassive alpha to take the sight of my scar in stride, as he took everything else. Instead, he seemed to be boiling with anger. His muscles had tensed to the point where even I might be able to knock him over, if I had any muscle tone at all.

Which I did not.

Was he really that good of an actor?

"I've only had the shackle off for a couple of weeks. I guess I still favor it, even though it's not really that sore," I said at last, when his fuming silence became really uncomfortable. "Hopefully I'll get used to it. That is, if I'm allowed to walk around much after I'm bitten."

I couldn't help but take that jab. Really, it was rich of him to act so shocked. Little did he realize the emotional scars were much worse than the physical ones. My neck might not be scarred but they'd already given me more than one deep scratch on my mangled soul.

He seemed like the kind of man who should know that. Somehow I felt like I wasn't the only one around here who struggled with emotional scars.

He narrowed his eyes at my words. "We want you to be part of our pack . Being part of our pack means that you would be free in every real sense of the word."

I scoffed. Sure, he could tell himself that if it made him feel better.

"Only if I agree to be bonded to you." Anger flickered in my belly, but I tried to keep it leashed. Tried and failed. They have to keep up their little facade, right? This pretense that I'm agreeing to something and that everyone is happy.

Suddenly, I couldn't stand it. "Otherwise I'll be shipped off to be bonded to who knows…"

"We would never sell you to the king," Lynter snapped. "I know Davos has sworn it, but it would never have happened regardless."

"My brother…"

"Your brother was being brought here so that we could call on all the female alphas we know and get him a match of his choice before the king seized him."

I growled at that. Surely he didn't expect me to believe this crap? "And what if he chose not to match? What if he wanted to be alone? What if he loved a beta?"

Lynter blinked at me and I wondered if I'd managed to press past his canned answers.

"No omega could be happy or healthy with only a beta," he said at last. "If an omega was really in love with one, maybe they could be included in a pack, but not without alphas as well." He shrugged. "That's just the way omega bodies work. With only a single beta as a partner it would make heats a misery for both of them, and it would eventually kill the omega." He frowned. "Surely you know that from your own heats?"

I felt my cheeks turn pink but refused to lower my eyes. "I've never had a heat. The only alphas I've met haven't stuck around for more than…" I cleared my throat. "For more than a few candles." I waved my hand vaguely.

Lynter nodded. "That's how the king keeps his omegas from having heats as well. He tries to nab them before their first one, then keeps them from contact with alphas. Without exposure to the pheromones it never triggers. Makes them easier to keep." He pressed his lips together as if suddenly realizing that I was currently getting quite a lot of exposure to pheromones. The idea terrified me. Maybe if I had a heat here, it would help me with the whole seduction thing.

Or maybe they'd just bite me all the sooner.

"Omegas need to be knotted by a male alpha, or locked by a female alpha, during heats. That's just a fact." The big alpha shifted on the wall next to me, as if the idea made him uncomfortable. His leg brushed against mine and I tried very hard not to notice how nice it felt. "Even bonding with only one alpha is problematic, but female alphas are so rare, it would be a miracle to find a full pack of them. At most we know a few pairs and a triplet." He cleared his throat and lowered his voice to a grumble. I had to lean in to hear him, pressing our legs together more firmly. The warmth of his body raised goosebumps on my arms, but I told myself it was just the cold weather.

"Unfortunately our king has made it extremely difficult for same-sex couplings to thrive in Raksim, even if he has not yet outright banned them. Davos… shares that particular prejudice. So even if your brother was so inclined, male alphas were not an option. Not an… open option anyway."

I scrunched up my nose at that. Lutin was even more unfriendly to those inclined towards their own sex. I had always felt a kinship with them, simply because it felt similar to the prejudice against omegas.

I hadn't thought about it, but if I had I might have assumed such couples were welcome here. Wasn't a pack essentially a marriage in all but name? According to village gossip, packs were just an excuse for a nightly orgy. Although I couldn't really imagine Sinclair or Davos partaking in that .

Still, if there was no law against it here, it seemed an odd thing to be hung up on, but then Davos was an evil prick, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised he was also randomly bigoted for no reason.

Not that Ivan would have been happy with a male coupling anyway. Ever since he'd hit puberty my brother had been quite gross about his attraction to the ladies, something I really didn't want to hear about, thanks very much.

"We were actually worried we wouldn't find anything suitable for your brother in time."

"What's the rush?" I asked, bitterly. "It's not like we're going anywhere now. You could have kept him here forever and just waited for the right alpha to turn up."

Lynter shook his head, his eyes dark and brooding. "The second we entered this place with an omega, spies reported that to the king. In fact, he probably knew we had captured an omega well before we got here. It's why we tried to continue your little…" he waved his hands at me "…deception, as long as possible, so at least he might get confused reports. Not that Davos did a particularly good job of that."

His lips pressed together in disapproval, a look that I gathered was the default for him. I frowned, not sure whether Lynter disapproved of Davos being overbearing and obvious in his claim on me, or if something else bothered him.

Like the whole slavery thing.

Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"Unfortunately, His Majesty almost certainly knows we have a female omega now." He paused for a second to yell at Carlile, instructing him to stop messing around, then turned back to me. Honestly, I couldn't tell the difference between Carlile messing around and Carlile being earnest about his training but even I could tell Lynter knew what he was talking about. He did miss Carlile sticking out his tongue as he turned back to me, though, and I had to fight a sudden urge to giggle.

"We've been waiting for the king to order us to bring you to the capital, but he has not contacted us yet." The hazel-eyed alpha tilted his head back as if lost in thought, his forehead creasing. "It's suspicious," he murmured, as if to himself.

"And if he does order you?" I asked, enthralled by how much he was openly telling me. "Don't you all have oaths to him?"

"Not binding ones," Lynter said. "Even if he made us give them, the magic wears out eventually, just like a spellstone will. Binding oaths only last a few months at most. That's why most people put a specific time limit on the action required."

"Ah," I said. I had suspected as much, but it was good to have it independently confirmed. Among my list of worries was an irrational fear that my oath had been eternally binding, and only the fact that it specified ten days had kept me from panic. However, it seemed like almost nothing was eternal. Except maybe bonding.

Not that it would help me in this particular case either way. In fact it could only hurt me. If the oath wasn't eternal, that meant they could still renege on their promise to let Ivan go free. Or maybe recapture him after the oath magic wore out.

"Right," Lynter said and slapped his knees. "I have an idea of your capabilities now. So let's get started."

I gaped at him in dismay. "Get started? I thought we were finished!"

He chuckled and tossed me a long, wooden stave which I promptly dropped.

"My sweet girl, we're just getting started."