Chapter Thirty-Six Rosemary

After lunch, I spent my afternoons with Lynter and Carlile, learning to use the small, elegant sword and knife set Lynter had given me, and rebuilding the stamina that had been forcibly removed from me by my father. Lynter had scaled back his enthusiasm for brute-force cardio since our first session, and now made sure I did a lot of stretching throughout the lesson, but he still made me run laps until I wanted to punch something.

Then he'd put a sword in my hands.

He let me use my real sword when I dueled with Carlile, explaining that he had no practice swords of a similar weight and it was far better to learn with the tool you intended to use. When I voiced my fear of hurting the youngest pack member, Lynter had scoffed. "If you manage to draw blood I'll treat you to a dozen cinnamon buns from town, and I'll have that whelp scrubbing out the stables for a month." He directed a pointed look towards his younger brother. "He's only got a half-horseweight of muscle and fifteen years experience on you."

Predictably, Lynter was right. I soon realized there was absolutely no point in pulling my punches- or my swings- with Carlile. The only thing he got out of practice bouts with me was a chance to show off to the women who often stood around the training yard, watching us. I suspected some of the younger servants came up with busy work in the yard several times a day in order to watch the handsome alphas train. The yard was always immaculate, and not only because Lynter was a hardass about putting away gear. There were plenty of female soldiers and guardsfolk who lingered around the training yard as well, as if it took half a candle to remove their boots after their own practice sessions.

I didn't mind. Carlile was the only one in the pack who felt like he might be an actual friend, rather than a lover. He joked with me, and encouraged me. At least, he did when he wasn't preening for the watching ladies.

Lynter had yet to make a seductive move on me, but he wasn't exactly acting like a friend, either. He was kind, and he was firm. Sometimes I thought I could see lust burning in his hazel eyes, but maybe I was fooling myself, and projecting lust onto an alpha who was just doing his duty to his pack. It was exhausting, trying to tiptoe along the line between what I wanted and what I needed, and being not quite sure which one was which, or if I could really have anything at all.

I had definitely caught Carlile looking at me with speculation of a kind, and I couldn't deny that he was handsome, but his scent didn't seem to affect me quite the same way as the scents of the others in the pack did. I would say that I liked his smoky florals much more than I liked Davos' spice and pine, but I never found myself unconsciously gulping down the young alpha's scent as if I needed it like air. It was just… pleasant. What I really liked was that Carlile was snarky. Sometimes he took it too far, but he never took offense when I told him off for it. Trading insults with him, the same way I used to do with Ivan, was a highlight of my day. It went some way to soothing what felt like the loss of my brother to his lessons.

Not that it didn't piss me off when the young alpha set my butt down into the mud of the yard for the third time in a session.

"Come on, Rainbow," he said, on the fifth day of my binding oath. He gave me a hand up. "I think you've had enough for now."

"No," I growled. The high-pitched sound made him smirk at me. I glared at him. "I want my cinnamon buns."

I lifted my sword into the starting position again, even though my hands were beginning to get a bit shaky. All I had to do was draw a tiny drop of blood. How hard could it be?

Carlile rolled his eyes. "It's going to take a bit more than a few days in the yard before you can best me, little Rainbow." He raised his voice so the tittering maids lingering around the low stone fence could hear. "Not that I mind being your teacher. Women should know how to defend themselves, just in case I'm not around to do it for them."

Lynter snorted, then muttered under his breath as he circled me and corrected my form. His hands lingered on my waist as our eyes caught. I flushed and looked away. The brothers looked so similar, with their silky black hair and golden skin. I wasn't sure why looking at Lynter made my heart race. He wasn't that handsome… right?

But then, I suspected giggling girls didn't appear in doorways to watch Cantor while he trained, and that big, pale alpha made my gut squirm as well. So who the hell knew what my dumb little omega heart was thinking.

Actually I did know what it was thinking right now. By the Beta, I wanted to see Lynter without a shirt on. He was in the yard from dawn to dusk, training himself and training others. If I ever got to see him with his chest bare, I was expecting something miraculous. But he was so proper. Not cold, exactly, like Sinclair could be, but stiff and strict. Even in the heated midday sun, while Carlile pranced around bare-chested and flexing, Lynter kept his leather armor in place.

I knew the second-in-command of the pack was supposed to be winning me over, and that was the only reason he was training me at all, but I was starting to wonder if he ever actually meant to make a move. Maybe the lust I thought I saw sometimes was something else. Maybe it was irritation. Maybe the only person he felt any lust for was Bastian. Or maybe he just didn't like women in general.

It wasn't like I was an expert on alpha emotions.

It was embarrassing being an omega. Alphas could smell it when you were turned on, no matter how much you might want to hide it. If you had a single lustful thought, everyone would know.

Alphas could conceal their emotions much more easily, their scents only changing slightly with dramatic emotions, at least compared with omegas. I supposed male alphas in loose trousers might reveal something but Lynter was always wearing his damn leather armor, including a cod piece so he gave nothing away.

…And now Lynter and Carlile had both caught me staring at Lynter's crotch.

My face flaming, I threw myself forward at Carlile without warning, and he laughed as he met my blow one-handed and simultaneously blew a kiss towards the watching girls. I rolled my eyes, but was grateful his flirting covered up my embarrassment.

At least, I was for all of two seconds.

"Very keen on swords today, aren't we, little Rainbow?" He taunted.

Lynter bellowed at me to quit messing around as I tried to press forward, my face flaming, my sword flying. Carlile yielded, walking backwards casually as he met every strike. He passively defended with exaggerated moves as I tried my absolute hardest to wallop him and his smart mouth. I knew I had forsaken every pretense of form, but Lynter could just deal with it. Blind fury was obviously the best way to deal with this asshole.

Carlile was still chortling to himself when he stumbled over a stray practice sword. One he had left there himself when he was showing me a dual wielding technique.

The opening wasn't much, but I instantly redoubled my efforts and came within a hair's breadth of slicing into his arm before he whipped his own sword up and caught mine on it.

I gasped, fear jolting me. I'd been trying so hard but… honestly, I hadn't actually expected to get near enough to actually hurt him. I didn't want to hurt him. I immediately drew back.

Scowling, Carlile glared at me. Then he glanced over my shoulder, stuck out one long leg and tripped me backwards as I retreated.

I fell so hard, my sword jolted out of my hand and flicked past my knee as it went flying, slicing into my pants.

Carlile's scowl melted immediately. "Rainbow, I'm so sorry. Are you ok?"

I blinked up at him. Did he trip me that hard on purpose? He hadn't just stuck out a leg, he'd hooked it back. But he looked so dismayed now. Lynter had rushed over and was tearing strips off him, and Carlile's cocky smile had vanished. Both alphas offered me their hands to help me rise, but I laughed them off.

"Just an accident," I said, surprised at the quaver in my own voice.

I got to my feet on my own, and brushed off my pants.

"I'm fine… I'm… oh."

A warm trickle ran down my leg and I winced as I realized the sword had cut right through the fabric and opened a shallow cut on my knee. It didn't hurt yet, but I knew it would sting. Cantor was going to fuss.

At least I'd finally drawn blood.

"Let me help you to the infirmary," Lynter said, glancing around the yard. I knew he was looking for my pale shadow, but for once Cantor wasn't following me around. He'd had a poultice to make for Glory, the tiny, elderly laundress who insisted on continuing to work, even though her hands were crooked and sore with arthritis.

"I'll do it," Carlile insisted. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have been so… so cocky." He bent down to my ear and something deep in me wanted to flinch away from him. I quickly squashed it. Carlile was harmless. He was an arrogant young man, who had gone a bit too far in order to save face in front of some pretty ladies- all of whom had suddenly vanished.

"Lynter definitely owes you those cinnamon buns," he whispered loudly. "You almost got me."

Lynter frowned and seemed about to object, but a group of guardsmen showed up for their own training candle. So the scowling second acquiesced and allowed Carlile to accompany me to the infirmary. I didn't really need help, since the cut wasn't so deep that I couldn't walk, but I knew the alphas wouldn't accept that. Fragile little omegas needed to be coddled, after all.

Carlile kept up a stream of inane chatter as we walked, while I pondered what had happened. It didn't escape my notice that Carlile had chosen his words carefully, not admitting that he had tripped me, but making it sound like he accepted fault for not guiding the bout between us in general.

We were almost to the infirmary when Carlile stopped abruptly and pulled me into an herbal storeroom. It was barely more than a closet, lined with shelves that held jars and strings and boxes of dried herbs. I knew by now that there were three rooms like this, Cantor having explained that they tried to keep such precious resources in several different areas of the fort, in case of an attack. That way it would be much more difficult to cut off supplies to any area, or to sabotage them all.

The scents of peppermint and cloves and other strong herbs filled my senses. The potent smells almost, but not quite, erased the smoky florals that suddenly seemed much stronger in such a small space. Carlile gripped my upper arm and maneuvered me until my back was to one of the shelves and he was between me and the door.

I'd fought multiple training bouts against him by now, but had never really noticed how large this man was. He was the shortest in the pack, but he still towered over me by half a foot.

"Why don't you like me, Rosemary?" He pressed closer, his other hand snapping out to rest just above my shoulder, making me flinch. Sweat broke out on my forehead. What the hell was happening? Of all the alphas in the pack, Carlile was not the one I expected to corner me in a dark room.

"I… I don't know what you mean, Carlile," I said, and was grateful when my voice somehow came out sounding close to normal. "I like you a lot."

He snorted. "You don't sneak glances at my cock, though." He said it as if he was discussing what we'd have for lunch. "You don't perfume when I put my hands on you to correct your form. You don't perfume for me at all ."

Even though he was the one being an asshole, and it was none of his fucking business who I perfumed for, I felt my cheeks blaze. My mouth opened to give him a piece of my mind… but then he pressed a little bit closer and I was reminded of where I was and how close his hand now rested to my neck.

Did he trip me that hard on purpose?

What else was he capable of?

"I… don't get to decide what makes me perfume," I said, weakly. "Maybe we just… need to get to know each other better. It's not like I'm perfuming for… for Davos either."

"No, but I bet if you had that pale freak in here you'd be slicking right up for him, wouldn't you?"

He leaned in even closer, so that I could feel his breath on my neck. The smoky notes in his scent had turned so bitter I was afraid I would choke on them. The only thing that kept me from doing it was that it would probably really piss him off.

"I didn't know you felt this way," I said, groping for something to placate him. My mind felt almost blank with terror, but some deeper instinct kept me talking, as if we were having a normal conversation and he hadn't just talked about my slick like he had a right to do so, and called his own packmate a freak.

He called my Cantor a freak.

A coal of anger started to burn in my belly. If I hadn't left my sword at the practice yard, there would be no further debate about whether or not I had drawn blood. However, I knew better than to let my anger show.

I clenched my fists in the bottom of my shirt to keep them from shaking. As much as I wanted to scream at this shitty knothead, now wasn't the time. I knew men like this. Pissing him off wasn't the way to get somewhere safe.

"Of course I want our omega to notice me," Carlile said, his eyes watching my every move. I still didn't see any lust in them, even now. So what the hell did he want from me? "Of course I want our scent match to lust after me."

"I… I don't know what a scent match is. I just thought you saw me as a… like, a sister? Or a friend." The words were bitter in my mouth now. Had I really compared him to Ivan? Ivan would never do this to a girl.

If he did I would kick his ass, but he never would.

"No, little Rainbow, I don't see you as a sister ," Carlile said, and he licked up the curve of my ear. The repulsive, wet heat made my stomach roil, and all I wanted was to wipe it off, and then boil my ear for good measure, but I didn't dare move.

"I'm all full up on siblings," he murmured. "What I need from you is something entirely different."

I shuddered, unable to contain the involuntary movement, and he finally stepped back.

"Sorry, Rosemary," he said, and his voice had become almost cheery. "I didn't mean to… to get all intense there." He chuckled and grabbed the back of his own neck as if he was embarrassed. I gaped at him, taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor. Even his scent lightened, although it was still acrid around the edges.

"I guess I was just a bit jealous of my big brother. You're so beautiful and… I guess I just hope you'll give me a chance, like you have with the rest of the pack."

My first instinct was to flee, now that I had a small sliver of space to inch past him. My next instinct was to snap at him, the way I would at Ivan if he pulled this kind of bullshit, trapping a girl in a storeroom and breathing all over her. Licking her.

Still, what had Carlile actually done, aside from tripping me in a moment of anger? It hadn't even been the first time that day he'd put me on my ass. He obviously hadn't intended my sword to go flying. He wasn't hurting me. He wasn't even touching me right now.

However, he was still far too close.

"No problem, Carlile," I squeaked, loathing the words even as I spoke them.

Stupid alphas. Stupid Phoenix Pack. I was going to escape them and leave them all crying in my dust. I swore it to myself. No matter how much I liked Cantor and the others, if it meant feeling like this on a regular basis, I didn't want it.

"Of course I'll give you a chance," I continued when he didn't make a move, but kept looking at me expectantly. "Maybe we can…" I trailed off, wincing internally. I didn't really want to spend any extra time with him after this. I didn't even want to train with him again after this, even though I knew I would probably have to.

"That sounds great," he said, all that usual perky enthusiasm back in his voice. He stepped back even further, as far as the tiny space allowed. "We can go for a walk in the forest or something. You seem like you enjoy doing that with Cantor."

I nodded, trying to match his energy and forced a smile on my face, even though I knew my cheeks were burning.

What the fuck was his problem with my alpha?

I almost collapsed with relief when he finally seemed satisfied and we continued on to the infirmary. I had never been so happy to see Cantor, even if he did stink of comfrey.

It was somehow sweeter than the scent of lilacs.