Chapter Forty-Four

Willow

Morning comes.

Silas doesn’t.

“Bunny,” Kane tries to sooth me, brushing away my hair. “You have to rest.”

“I’ve been resting,” I snap.

“In what? Half-hour intervals?” He growls. “That’s not enough.”

“What’s the point now?” I turn away, standing, so I can peer around the alleyway. The scent of blood is still potent, but it’ll only get weaker, especially when all the merchants arrive with their produce. I hastily reach for my blade.

Kane snatches it out of my hand. “Try that shit again,” he warns, “and I’m keepin’ it.”

“I’m not a pup!”

“Course not. Pups know better than to slash themselves.”

Now I’m growling. He is not impressed, let alone intimidated, glaring me down without blinking. As I’m strategizing how best to disarm him of my weapon, a sharp, demanding noise rips from my stomach. Hunger—the first real hunger I’ve felt in days.

“Shit,” Kane mutters.

“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “I’m not—”

“Yes you fucking are.” He sighs. “Could’ve sworn I felt it in the bond, but I figured it was just me.” He glances around, like a wild deer will suddenly appear. “I need to hunt.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Villagers don’t hunt. If you try to leave now—” and come back with a big chunk of bloody meat—“ it’ll draw all kinds of attention.”

Before he can answer, a loud rattling sound takes our attention. We peer around the alleyway once more, watching as local merchants roll in their produce to set up for another day of trade. They don’t speak much, likely saving their energy for the work ahead.

Kane curses. “We have to move.”

Panic strikes my heart. “But Silas—”

“Is gonna have to sort his own shit out.” Kane’s impatience makes the bond twinge, like it does every other time I mention Silas. I haven’t told him what I learned last night in front of the river, but he must sense how my feelings have shifted.

He adjusts his cloak around my shoulders, pulling the hood up. “C’mon. Before they see us.”

Sure enough, a couple merchants are headed for the alley, probably to collect their crates. I stop arguing as Kane leads me down the other end, the two of us slipping into a cold, quiet morning in Northside’s village center.

***

Kane’s number two priority, after keeping me hidden, is getting me fed. A simple enough feat, out in the wilds. But here, without any coin? Not so much.

“I’m strong,” he practically barks at a poor street vendor. “You want your wood chopped? I’ll do it—three coin.”

The older female alpha looks at him like he’s a wild animal. She glances at her assistant, likely an omega, with concern. “Uh …”

“I’m bonded,” Kane growls, showing off his neck with a mixture of frustration and pride. “I don’t want your damn omega. Just your coin.”

I put my hand on Kane’s arm, voicing a quiet apology to the vendors before guiding him away.

We weave through the growing crowd, Kane’s hand slipped beneath my—technically, his—cloak, keeping hold of my waist. Alphas and omegas alike cast him curious looks. Whether it’s in fear or enticement, my omega doesn’t care. No-one but me should be eyeballing this rugged, sexy, shirtless alpha by my side.

It’s weird being in a village again. Among people—alphas, omegas, some rich, some poor, all marching about with purpose. They have packs to feed, I suppose. Deadlines to meet. Clients to satisfy.

At first I think it’s thanks to Kane’s strength, coursing through my veins, before I realize. I’m … confident here. This is the world I was raised for.

It’s with this thought a wave of nausea rolls over me.

“Will—” Kane stops himself. “Omega?”

It’s only natural Northside reminds me of home. But no matter how confident I feel, it’s not home. I have to remember that.

Kane dips his head, checking my face under the hood. “You’re pale.” He grits his teeth, fumbling to take the pack off me. “I knew you shouldn’t be carryin’ this.”

I clutch the pack before he can take it. “It’s not heavy. Besides, of the two of us, I’m the only own who can conceal it.” I smirk. “Unless you’d prefer I go shirtless, and you take the cloaks?”

Kane growls, scanning the passer-bys like he needs to check no-one else is close enough to even imagine that.

“Over there.” I gesture to a water pump on the side of the path.

He follows my lead, pumping the spout so I can gather enough water in my palms to drink. I do the same for him. Kane downs a few mouthfuls, rivulets of water trickling down his naked collarbones, then coughs.

Before I can ask what’s wrong, he lunges forward, fixing my cloak.

Shit.

“Was it showing?” I ask under my breath, tucking my hair behind my ears.

“Just for a second.”

“I’m such an idiot. Should’ve braided it.”

“Let’s worry about that after you’re fed,” Kane grumbles.

His words float into me, twirling around my thoughts until I gather enough focus to make sense of them. My auburn hair—a dead giveaway to all the potential bounty hunters in Northside. Trying to sleep, eat, survive in a village without any coin to our names. There’s a simple solution here.

If not an obscenely risky one.

Kane watches me, probably feeling me, as my idea takes root. His expression darkens. “I’m not gonna like this, am I?”

***

It takes a couple hours of searching, and a few very suspicion questions to the Northside locals, before I find what I’m looking for.

I stand in front of a weary, two-story shopfront, breathing a sigh of relief. At least it’s not out in the open.

Kane stands next to me, scowling as he reads the sign. “Mal’s … wigs.” He scowls. “You want to buy hair ? We don’t even have coin for food.”

“Just trust me.”

I shoulder through the door before he can argue further. The bottom floor is dim, windows cloaked by moth-eaten curtains. The overwhelming aroma of burning incense floods my senses as I examine the various wigs on display. Short hair. Long. Dark. Blond. It’s almost eerie, surrounded by dismembered mannequins on all sides.

Kane shudders. “Fuckin’ reeks in here.”

I peer around the staircase. “Hello?”

Carefully navigating the rotten floorboards, I make my way to the top floor, which looks more like a salon. Well, maybe a salon after a bull ran through it. Chipped mirrors. Wonky stools. The windows are so grimy it’s a wonder any daylight comes through at all.

“What are you doing up here?”

I start as a tall, lanky male seemingly manifests from the shadows. Instantly Kane is behind me, growling warningly.

“No-one was down there,” I answer.

The male—Mal, I suppose—tilts his head. “You could’ve rung the bell.”

Kane and I exchange a look. “There wasn’t a bell,” I tell him.

“Oh.” He frowns. “I should really get a bell.”

He turns away to rummage through one of his many boxes. Kane keeps a hand on the small of my back, though he’s notably less tense. This guy might be weird, but he doesn’t have the wits, or probably the strength, to be a real threat.

“Ah.” Suddenly Mal straightens, flashing a pair of scissors. “Here we are.”

Just like that, Kane’s back on high alert. “What the hell?”

“Don’t worry,” Mal smiles vapidly. “They’re not for you.” His murky eyes find mine. “Isn’t that right?”

Maybe the weirdo is sharper than he looks. I sigh, casting my mate a reassuring look, before slowly removing my hood.

“Hey!” Kane shields me.

“It’s okay,” I tell him, my eyes returning to Mal. “It’s what we’re here for.”

Kane’s outrage sears through the bond. He remains planted in front of me, growling low in his chest.

Mal tilts his long body, trying to get a good look at me. “Haven’t had a red-head in a while.” His eyes glint. “Always sell fast, when I got ’em”

“You’re not having jack shit!” Kane snarls.

“How much?” I ask, ignoring him.

Mal considers. “Fifteen.”

“Twenty.”

He smirks. “Seventeen.”

I pretend to mull it over. It’s more coin than I expected, even for hair as unusual as mine. Enough to keep us fed, and even buy myself a new cloak.

“Deal,” I confirm.

“Omega.” Kane turns his back on Mal completely, staring down at me. “I can get us coin. Just give me some more time.”

I smile warily. “It’s better this way.” I twirl my hair, cascading down to the base of my ribs. “Easier to hide.”

“You’re not hiding from this freak,” Kane mutters. “What if he gives us away?”

He makes a good point. But I wouldn’t have removed my hood if my inner omega didn’t allow it. She knows as well as I do, sacrifices have to be made. Not just for my sake, but for my mate’s.

“It’ll grow back, you know,” Mal drawls. “She’ll be pretty again in no time.”

Kane flashes him a snarl. “You think I give a shit about that?”

Mal raises his hands in mock surrender.

I hold Kane’s arm. “It’s okay, alpha.”

“I don’t trust this guy.” He wrinkles his nose. “Can’t even catch his scent.”

Mal and I lock eyes once more. That knowing smirk of his returns. My inner omega perks her head once more.

“That’s because he’s an omega,” I realize. “And trying to hide it.”

Mal just shrugs. “Poorly, as it happens.”

Kane’s pheromones remain tart with suspicion. “Pretty tall for an omega.”

That threw me off, too. But there’s no denying it. Mal’s not even trying.

“I trust him,” I announce, as much for Mal’s benefit as for Kane’s. I give Mal a hard, warning glare, reminding him my trust comes as a price. Break it, and he won’t just have my alpha to answer to.

“Truly, an honor.” Mal twirls his scissors. “Ready when you are, sweetheart.”