Chapter Thirty Rosemary

Markets are wonderful. Every market I've visited so far in my life has been the best market I've ever seen, and this one is no different. It's at least five times the size of the nearest market to my village in Lutin, and maybe twice as big as the market I visited with Cantor while we were at the inn. That seems so long ago now, but it's only been a few days. Still, it warms my heart to remember how kind Cantor was to me then, and how much he seemed to like me, even though he thought I was a beta. I wish I could hate all of these men, but that awkward, gentle alpha makes it impossible.

The bigger the market, the more interesting each stall seems to be, for some reason. Our local market never had much more to offer than candles, baskets, and vegetables, and maybe a fur merchant if the hunters had good luck that year.

While here, every stall seems to have at least one fascinating item, and often every single thing on offer is worth a few moments of contemplation. I once spent two candles studying a spider web that had been woven in the corner of the cottage, near where I was chained. I wished I could show the jewelry and dolls and intricate pastries I've seen here in one candle to that lonely girl.

I had to scold the alphas multiple times when I showed interest in some trinket and they immediately offered to buy it, but even their offers make me giddy. I know it's a trick. Not even a trick , exactly, they are just outright resorting to bribery. My father often taunted me with that aspect of my biology, in fact, screaming about greedy omega whores who'll spread their legs for coin and trinkets.

Is that what I'm doing?

I could see Cantor gathering flowers from a herb merchant when he's supposed to be picking out healing greens, and I suspected those flowers were for me. He was already laden with soaps because I stopped to chat with a soap seller. Bastian wasn't in sight but I suspected he's doing something similar. Are they doing this to win me over? Cantor really seems like he just can't help it. Bastian… he's more cunning than Cantor, but still sweet. Would he really choose to enslave me?

Can I trust him?

The idea of trusting any of them made me dizzy. Overwhelmed, I stepped behind the herb stall for just a moment, instinctively seeking out a liminal space, a place neither here nor there, like Cantor and I had done at the last market.

This isn't a pretty space like that one was, with it's tiny copse of birch trees and grassy floor. This was only a small cavity that ran between the backs of two rows of wooden stalls. I could hear the loud chatter of the market, but no one else was in sight. No one could see me.

Suddenly alone, I could finally take a breath, my lungs filling deeply in relief, as if I've been gasping for candles.

And so, of course, my stupid omega heart immediately misses the scents of my two jailers. Now that I was away from them, I could suddenly smell the unpleasant mix of dung, smoke, and body odor that permeates the market. The awful stench of dozens of other alphas combined burned inside my nose and I was right back to shallow breaths again.

Well, that's just great.

Why do Bastian and Cantor smell so good, when everyone else smells so terrible? Lynter's scent was also quite nice, while Davos and Sinclair each had something that made me want to breathe in deeply, even though I didn't particularly like their scents. Carlile's wasn't bad either, although his lilacs and smoke had a sickly, acrid undertone that left a bad taste in my mouth.

I crouched down, close to the dirt floor of my secret hallway between the stalls, and pondered it, ignoring instincts that were becoming more and more urgent, trying to force me back to my alphas.

No. Back to the alphas. Damn those stupid omega instincts.

If Cantor missed me, he'd guess where I was, right? It was nice to have some space after a long, colorful day. I didn't need to be close to them all the time to fulfill the oath, after all. I could hoard a few moments to myself.

I closed my eyes and just let myself breathe.

That was when they snatched me.

The light-footed bastards managed to clap a hand over my mouth before I could so much as gasp. Within a few wicks I was trussed up, thrust into a sack, and bundled down the faux corridor. I managed to struggle hard enough to kick off one shoe, but I had been gone a while even before they grabbed me. Would Cantor even think to look for me behind the stall? Maybe they would just assume that I had run off somehow.

No, I couldn't rely on my captors for rescue. I was on my own.

I was thrown onto a horse, kicking and screaming behind my gag, furious that I was being taken by yet another group that wanted a godsdamned omega. That was until I peered out through the sackcloth and got a good look at the rider above me.

It was the same damn group.

The bounty hunters had me again.

I squirmed so hard the horse below me thrashed its head and Tomos, the leader of the bounty hunters, scolded it. Encouraged, I kicked and rocked harder, hoping I might be able to get the horse to throw us both.

"God's rot, calm the fuck down, omega!"

The leader swore as his horse bucked and shuddered under him and he sawed on the reigns. He pulled back the sack cloth so my head was free then clipped me across the ear so hard that lights flickered across my vision.

Instinctively I tried to blast him, but of course nothing happened. I couldn't even use my godsforsworn magic with my spellstone in place.

"If you don't stop squirming I'll knock you out, and I can't guarantee your brain will stay inside your skull if I do," he hissed at me. "You don't need your brain to be bred, omega."

Well then. I shuddered, and fell limp.

I spent the next half candle working at the cloth they had shoved in my mouth and secured roughly with coarse twine. Luckily it was new rope and after I managed to hook it around the edge of the saddle I was pressed against, it stretched easily enough. As soon as it was loose, I spat out the gag.

Unfortunately they'd used the same, rough rope to tie my wrists, which had become uncomfortably numb and slick. I was pretty sure I had ripped up my skin there, and they were tied so tightly that I worried the circulation had been cut off.

Since they were tied around my back and I was on my stomach in front of the psychopathic leader of the bounty hunters, there wasn't much point in trying to loosen them until we came to a stop. I was pretty sure I'd do myself serious harm if I tried and he'd notice right away.

On the other hand, he seemed like he was in a hurry, so I guessed he wouldn't want to stop and gag me again.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded. I tried to be fierce, but there was a quaver in my voice.

Tomos ignored me at first, but I drew in a deep breath as if to scream.

He chuckled and cuffed me again.

"Where do you think, omega?" He said, in a low voice. "To the king. He'll pay very good money for you."

"I'm not an omega," I protested, even though I knew they had all scented me before Ivan had inserted the stone. Still, maybe I could convince them it was a fluke.

"Sure you ain't." He grunted and spat, just barely missing me with his awful, brown-stained spit. I wondered if he'd like me to vomit down the side of his long suffering horse.

Since when was the prince pack the better option?

"I can't be worth all this trouble," I tried again. "That was the Phoenix Pack you took me from. The king's sons . The king won't be happy with…"

He snickered, interrupting me. My stomach clenched in anger at his mocking tone.

"You think I don't know the Phoneys when I see ‘em? That's what makes you so valuable, little omega. The way they've been fawning over you… By now half the kingdom knows you're their scent match."

He spat again and I shuddered. What the fuck was a scent match? He made it sound like something disgusting.

But then he made everything sound disgusting.

"I'm not… I'm not even an omega," I said, but my voice was weak.

"The king will pay triple for you," Tomos said. "He'll bite you to the Gorgon Pack so quick and so deep, you'll be bonded for life."

"I don't understand," I said quietly. I didn't. I was just… me. Why the hell did the king of this weird country care if I lived or died? All I wanted was to stay small and meek and out of the way.

"That's because you're just your daddy's little whore," Tomos sneered. "I bet you don't know how to read, let alone…"

A solid thud interrupted him and for a second I thought he'd been hit by a tree branch. Then his arm flopped onto my back, heavy and limp, and he slumped forward. I twisted, straining until I could see an arrow was sticking from his shoulder.

Everything happened quickly after that.

Our horse slowed, unsure of the signals it was receiving. Shuddering, I squirmed until I nudged him off the poor beast. I didn't know if he was dead or merely unconscious, but I told myself if he got trampled it was his own damn fault. I somehow managed to haul myself up onto the saddle, even with my arms still bound, and clung on by squeezing my legs. Unfortunately, the horse took thst as a signal to speed up.

One of the other hunters riding with us tried to grab the reins but something knocked him off his horse. Terrified, I sucked in a breath and was filled with the scent of hay and flowers. I looked up to see Cantor riding behind me, bareback on an enormous gray draft stallion, fury twisting his normally gentle face.

Bastian pulled up on my other side, wielding a bow that looked oddly small in his huge hands. He shot at the other man, who was already galloping away from us, deeper into the woods, and suddenly we were stopping, and Cantor was gently pulling me from my horse and wrapping his arms around me, so tight I was worried I would suffocate, but I didn't want him to let me go. His hayfield scent swirled in the air, acrid and burnt like a grass fire that would send all the little meadow animals fleeing.

"Are you hurt, Rosemary?" Bastian demanded and was off his horse and pulling me from Cantor's arms before I had the breath to answer. His own scent had a tinge of something rotten, like a salad left on the kitchen table too long, but it slowly sweetened as he ran his hands over me to check for wounds. He hissed when he saw my wrists and ordered Cantor to pull out his balm, even as Bastian carefully cut through the ropes. I flinched when his big hands touched my head and he gently patted around where the hunter had hit me, smoothing away my hair and murmuring as if to himself.

"Such a brave, clever omega. We only found you so quickly because you kicked off your shoe. It's OK my darling Wildcat, we have you, we have you now."

Something broke inside me as his words penetrated my panicky thoughts. My body began to shake.

"No, no sweet kitten, you're OK, you were so brave and good." Bastian suddenly swept me up and sat cross-legged on the forest floor in what felt like a single move, handling me so gently I felt only a swooping sensation in my tummy, and then I was cradled on his lap. Cantor sank down beside us and gently dabbed ointment on my wrists as I wept and Bastian crooned praise and reassurance into my ear. His large, warm hand swept up and down my spine. I cried until my tears dried up and then sat, sniffling, my nose pressed into his neck. Their scents surrounded me like a sweet, crisp springtime, and seemed to sink into my skin until they reached my core. My face felt hot from crying. I pressed my nose harder into Bastian's skin.

He smelled so damn good. I wanted to get closer.

Before I knew it I was straddling Bastian, my thighs splayed over his, rather than demurely together, and he was looking up at me, blinking his beautiful amber eyes in shock. Even positioned like this, kneeling over him, my face was only just slightly higher than his.

"What…?" Bastian hovered his hands over my waist, as if afraid to touch me. "Are you alright, Rosemary?" He asked in a low voice.

I ignored the question, and nuzzled his face, running the edge of my jaw over his cheek. Something wasn't right. I frowned and tried again.

I was so hot. What was happening? I tried the other side, rubbing his cheek again, and more tears sprang to my eyes when it didn't work.

"Sweetheart….? Little Wildcat," Bastian said in a quiet, soothing tone. "Are you trying to scent mark me?"

"It's not working," I said and my voice was too high and quivering. I wasn't even sure what I was trying to do, I only knew it wasn't right . "Why isn't it working?"

Before Bastian could answer, I grabbed Cantor's hand and tried again, running his big, calloused palm up and down my jaw, and then further onto my neck.

My body burned, and this was making it worse. I gave up rubbing against my useless skin and drew one of Cantor's fingers into my mouth instead. He gasped and I looked up into his pretty, pretty eyes and suckled his finger the way I suddenly wanted to suckle his cock.

He had an awful lot of clothes on, didn't he? Maybe if he got his clothes off I could… I could…

"Rosemary," Bastian tried again. "Sweetheart, you need to stop. We can't do this here."

I realized that I was slowly grinding on the big alpha under me, pressing myself against the hard length I could feel under his pants. My underclothes were soaked through, once again, and I dimly understood that I should be unhappy about what I was doing, but all I could feel was a sense of outrage that he was wearing so many clothes and none of my scent. Neither of them smelled of me. It wasn't right .

Bastian fastened his hands around my waist and my body thrilled at his firm touch. Surely he was about to throw me on the forest floor and thrust into me until I was screaming his name and… but instead he placed me on my feet and brushed down my skirts.

"No, no," I whined as he stood back from me, both of them retreating. Didn't they know I wanted them closer? I needed my alphas.

They aren't your alphas , my mind whispered from somewhere beneath the burning haze, and that idea was so distressing that I began to flop down on the ground again like a puppet with cut strings.

"Oh, no you don't," Cantor said and he grabbed my shoulders to keep me upright. I tried to rub my face against his hand again, and this time I caught the faintest hint of my scent. It settled something jittery inside me, but only seemed to make the fires under my skin burn brighter.

"Alpha," I purred at him. "I need you, alpha." Cantor starred at me, his pupils blowing out and his cheeks flushed. He didn't stop me as I leaned in and kissed him. His mouth was sweet and hot and he groaned under my lips. Then he was pulling me into him, his tongue delving hungrily into my mouth.

Bastian swore and tried to pull us apart, but we resisted him for several moments until Cantor finally relented.

"What the hell are you doing, Cantor?" Bastian growled. "She's probably concussed. She might be delirious…"

"Starling is going into heat," Cantor said in a raspy voice. "Can't you smell it?"

Something deep inside me panicked further and began to thrash at hearing that. I couldn't go into heat here. I couldn't go into heat at all . I'd draw every alpha from jaunts around. They would eat me alive.

However, the vast majority of me didn't care about anything except getting back to grinding against one of my alphas, preferably without clothes in the way.

I wondered if Lynter was nearby.

Bastian took the news less stoically.

"She can't be," he said, gaping at Cantor, and shaking his head. He examined me, pressing a hand to my forehead, then inhaled deeply and swore.

"Fuck, fuck!"

"Yes," I said and found myself draping my limbs over him without being aware of when I moved. "Fuck, please, alpha."

Bastian gritted his teeth and wrapped a hand around my upper arm, pushing me back and keeping me away from them both. It was an act of such cruelty, I started to sob. The tiny part of my mind that was still truly aware of what I was doing was horrified.

Cantor immediately tried to pry Bastian's hand from me. "You're hurting her!"

"I'm not hurting her," Bastian insisted as if he wasn't denying me their cocks, their hands, their mouths on my…

My own hands drifted down.

"Stop that," Bastian snapped, all traces of his usual charm stripped away. His scent was swirling around me, mixed with sweat and sharp with need. "I need to think. I think her spellstone is subduing her heat scent but… but she needs relief and we can't leave all these men and horses running around the forest."

Cantor had given up on removing Bastian's hand and had moved closer to me instead, wiping my tears away with a calloused thumb. He cupped the nape of my neck and leaned in… and then yelped as Bastian whacked the back of his head. I whined again, low and needy, and both men groaned in response.

The fire under my skin had become an inferno. My stomach cramped with the need for something and Bastian released me as I doubled over.

"It hurts, alpha. Please ," I said, whimpering. I didn't even know what I was asking for. All I knew was that these two men needed to give it to me.

"Ah, fuck it," Bastian muttered and swept me up in his arms. "Get on your horse," he ordered Cantor. "There's a hunting cabin not far from here. This is probably just a pre-heat flash, that's why it's come on so fast and why she's not properly perfuming, thank all the gods. All the excitement… We'll get her to the cabin, and help to… uh, ease her." His dark cheeks darkened further and the sight of it made me squirm.

"Then we'll deal with whatever is left here. None of them are in a state to retaliate at least."

He passed me up to Cantor, who settled me in front, facing him. I threw my arms around my alpha, unsure of my ability to stay on a horse without a saddle. Then I pressed my face into his neck and sucked in greedy breaths. Clinging on to my alpha had its own reward.

"She's not in her right mind, so even if she consents… she's not really consenting. You know that right?"

Cantor must nod or something because Bastian turns to his own horse.

I take that moment to turn my head and kiss and nibble up Cantor's jaw. My mouth on his skin hardly doused the pain rising in my gut, but it also poured oil on the flames under my own skin.

"I consent, alpha," I told him huskily, the fires driving my words. "I won't regret it, I swear . You can do whatever you like to me."

He gently smoothed my hair, then tightened one arm around me as the other held the reins.

"You've said that before, sweet bird, and you did regret it."

I tensed at his rejection, tears beginning to prickle a-fucking-again… but then he began to purr. His purr was smooth and rich, like sweet, dark cream and the vibration made my muscles relax even as it skimmed them all the way down to my clit.

"It's OK, little one," Cantor said. "My precious, sweet Rosemary. We'll take care of you. We won't.. we won't go too far." He sounded unsure and I took the opportunity to nibble his earlobe, making him gasp for air, his purr shuddering and popping as he did. My scent was beginning to pour out of me, as if a bottle had finally unstoppered. This time, when I pressed my jaw along his skin, it properly marked him, letting everyone know that this alpha was mine. My sugared violets mixed with his hayfield scent, layering the floral and deepening his sweetness until it was like heady waves of molasses I could almost taste on my tongue. It was perfect. We were perfect together. With a start, I realized I was grinding on him, like I had been on Bastian earlier, rocking my hips inside the tiny space between the horse's withers and the alpha's body.

"How far is the bloody cabin," Cantor choked out, his arm now clutching me with bruising pressure.

Bastian glanced at us over his shoulder then immediately looked away again.

"Almost there," he said, his voice almost as raspy as Cantor's. I was suddenly torn between continuing to grind on this alpha, or flinging myself from the horse so I could get my mouth onto the other one.

One in the hand, or two in my…

Before I could make up my mind, a small, rundown hut came into view among the trees. It had a mostly intact roof, and the walls were standing, but that was about all that could be said for it.

It would do.