Page 15 of Fated or Knot (UnseelieVerse: The Omega Masquerade #1)

15

LARK

I had a crush, too. Four of them, to be exact.

I think they liked me back, even though the shadow of their mother loomed overhead. They didn’t allow one male alone with me unless Cymora and Laurel ended up rotating to my room together, and when that happened, the male by my side was a grouchy Marius.

It made every interaction a touch awkward when they’d check each other’s behavior at the first sign of slipping. Not that we didn’t all slip at one point or another. My body wove in and out of the first stages of pre-heat with Kauz restoring my suppressant tattoo as often as he could. With my heat as tightly bound as it was, I couldn’t blame the hollow longing in my gut on anything but my own feelings.

I noticed every time Tormund hesitated, his fingertips drifting lower on my belly before returning to the safe band around my middle that was not an inch too far to the north or south. When Kauz tilted my head up in the hall one evening, a tremble of restraint and frustration creased his expression right before he pressed his lips to my forehead. He said the Serian phrase tattooed on my wrist, in the ribbon the purple lark carried. None of the princes would tell me what it meant, and I was itching to find out.

Fal would always note who was in a room with us before keeping any touch chaste. He implied he wanted time alone with me, but it never happened. And Marius…well, I was convinced he simply didn’t like me, as no amount of thawing on his part included more than an accidental brush of touch in a confined space.

I missed their scents. Sleep didn’t come so easy now that the tokens I had from the alphas had mostly lost their scent. Kauz hadn’t returned to my dreams, either, where we could kiss without consequences. Three interested males and zero kisses… It was disappointing.

Even though I knew why it was all happening, it didn’t feel great. The foxes were guarding the henhouse most efficiently despite their worries about us spending eight days cooped up in this train together.

Cracks showed in our routine by day five. Marius looked at the open pages of his book like he was going to harm someone if he heard “Hey, Marius” one more time from Laurel. Fal hadn’t settled this afternoon, pacing the limited space in the room and eventually the hall with all the energy of a caged jungle cat.

Laurel had asked me to brush out her hair, which I was doing when Fal returned. He took one look at Marius and said something in Serian that had the kelpie snarling immediately. Fal bared his teeth back with a growl.

I’d come along enough in my studies to string basic Serian phrases together, but I didn’t know what they were about to fight over except there was a lot of “fuck” being thrown around. In Serian, it was “ foc ,” a snappy replacement I’d picked up on after they switched languages enough to mask the curse.

I stopped mid-brushing with a whimper, terrified of alpha anger, especially when it was between the princes. Marius stood, spiking the aggression in the room when they were nose to nose. For a moment, I thought they’d really come to blows, before Marius left the room with a kelpie’s dismissive snort. Fal settled across from us, his muscles still tensed.

“What was that about?” Laurel asked. She was just as wide-eyed as I was.

“He was in my seat.” Fal’s usual measured voice was much deeper with a growl underlying it.

It seemed like a lot more than that, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood to explain further. He took us in as I started working the brush through a knot in Laurel’s hair. “I didn’t realize you required special assistance,” he commented toward her.

“This is her job,” Laurel said.

Fal raised a brow. “Which job is that now?” he asked, still pissed off about something and narrowing in on a new target to take it out on.

Some of her self-preservation instincts seemed to kick in, and she stammered, “Uh, in our family…she picked up what the help used to do after we fell on hard times and had to dismiss them all. She still does. She likes it. Right, Lark?”

I didn’t answer, too nervous in the presence of an angry alpha. He stood and snatched the hairbrush from my hand, shoving it into Laurel’s chest. “Let’s cut this off at the quick. My lady is not your servant. Your hands work just fine, so brush your own starsdamned hair.”

She staggered back into me. “You can’t talk to me like that,” she said in a low, teary voice.

Oh no. She was going to run to Cymora, and then I’d have a serious problem. “It was no bother,” I put in. “We were bonding.”

He wore an unimpressed expression, which didn’t change a flicker to acknowledge me. “Laurel, I need you to leave. Right now.” Fal took a deep breath and mustered a tight smile. “I want a few minutes with my omega. Could you find somewhere else to be?”

“I…I guess so,” she said with the beginnings of a serious pout.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said, gesturing for her to go. The door closed behind her with a clatter. I wondered how long it would take for my stepmother to hear about this short conversation, exaggerated to make Laurel look as innocent as possible.

I flinched when Fal held his hand out, inching away from him and his alpha presence still hot with lingering rage. There wasn’t far to go before my wings brushed against the opposite wall.

“Come here, please.” He offered both hands now, palms out. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you… I’m angry for you. The nerve of that girl, and her insufferable mother too. And add on to that something else, something Marius did that I noticed earlier today, and I couldn’t let it go.”

He softened his stance and cleared his throat, attempting to purr to soothe me. It was unsteady and throaty, but at least he was trying. I placed my hands in his. He tugged me toward him and rested his forehead against mine; I breathed out some of my tension at the way his purr still soothed me.

I offered a little smile to show I was okay. “What did Marius do?” I murmured.

“I can tolerate a lot of things from my family, but this is not one of them.” Reaching past me, he took my journal and flipped back to the first page. His finger came down on the fourth line hard enough to embed his claw tip in the paper. “He will not talk to you like this.”

4. Don’t be a doormat.

“He didn’t,” I said, eyes widening. “I asked him for advice and paraphrased what he said.”

“He admitted he called you this earlier,” he growled. “Don’t try to make excuses for him. It’s bad enough that he’s more interested in that starsdamned book than the beautiful omega sitting next to him.”

He took my thoughts straight off the rail they’d been on. My wings fluttered happily. He thought I was beautiful. He’d said it with full conviction.

Oh, right. We were talking about Marius. “He’s already apologized for it. Really, this is just an overreaction.”

Fal rolled his eyes and reached over to pick up my charcoal pencil. “I’m not overreacting. I’m tired of his…” He circled his hand for a moment and then gave up. “I’m quite tired of his shit.”

I snorted a laugh before I could muffle it behind a hand, surprised that this was what broke the barrier of polite speech between us. He smiled at my reaction before turning the pencil on my list and writing underneath it. “Not that I was privy to this particular conversation, but I assume this has to do with meeting my mother. Here is what you should work on.”

He turned the page so I could see what he’d written in an overly elegant, looping script that matched his personality.

New steps:

1. Learn Serian.

2. Be yourself.

Everything else, we can teach you.

“Contrary to what my brother thinks, he doesn’t have to hold himself back. Our mother is going to adore you.” Fal drifted his knuckles down my cheek. “Wholly because she’s going to see that we adore you.”

My breath caught. “You do?” I murmured.

“Our pack bond lights up brighter than a Yuletide bonfire when you’re around.” His touch drifted to my neck, encircling its column gently to guide me as he leaned forward. “Can’t wait to feel how jealous this makes them.”

If I thought my surprise kiss with him had been amazing, it was nothing compared to the one he led me into. It tasted like sunny, grassy days, bursting into my mouth like drinking from a stream of pure joy after a long drought. I threaded my fingers into his silky blue-black hair, holding on to him for more. His fangs caught my lower lip and tugged just right.

I felt his growl as his fingers encircled my hips and tightened possessively. He lifted me into his lap as our tongues brushed, and my thighs spread to either side of his legs. I liked that he was just as turned on by my taste as I was by his, as he ground a growing bulge in his pants against the needy ache rising in my pussy.

The door flung open, and in stomped Marius. Fal slowed and parted from me with a mischievous smile on his kiss-swollen lips. He shot that look at the kelpie.

“I can’t trust you with her at all , can I?” Marius demanded.

“You came back awfully fast,” Fal teased. He licked up my neck with a low, rumbling growl that had me clenching my thighs. “It’s okay to want a taste too.”

Marius sat across from us with his ankle propped on his opposite knee. “Don’t forget we’re stuck here for three more days. If I decided to chase you, you have nowhere to run.”

“Hmm.” Fal dragged his fangs down the path he’d laved ever so slowly. I moaned, tilting my head for more. “Why don’t you show her some of that famed kelpie loyalty instead?”

“You know I can’t.” Marius’s answer sounded hoarse.

Fal nibbled the edge of my collarbone. Air flowed over my skin as he scented me. His low rumble was all alpha. I was slick for him already, my core clenching on air once more as my pre-heat threatened to return with a vengeance. I inhaled too, smelling warm sunshine from either his arousal, cutting through the scent dampening soap, or the ghost of his kiss that I’d eagerly return to.

The dark elf took my chin in his clawed fingers, gently turning my head. “Look at him, li’l omega,” he purred in my ear, brushing it with his fangs. “If I can smell how slick you are, he can too.”

Marius watched us with heat blazing in his dilated eyes. I’d seen that expression before, when he’d nearly pinned me to a pawn shop’s display. His hands clenched on the sides of the table, knuckles white. “You’re playing with fire,” he growled.

“He wants you too. He knows you’re ours. He just doesn’t want to admit it. All the self-control of the protector heir mixed in with the anxiety of an unmated kelpie. How very…tedious,” Fal continued. His lips dragged on my earlobe, tongue teasing and flicking the hoop I wore.

My breath came in uneven shudders, a needy mewl rising in my chest. I was so slick with need and paralyzed with indecision. We couldn’t do this, right? They had to leave me untouched. No matter how much I didn’t want to be as he teased the kelpie and me both. Each soft noise he wrung from me tightened the tension in Marius’s body another notch. He would snap at any second.

Fal’s other hand found the apex of my thighs, rubbing circles over the fabric between his fingers and where I needed him most. “Strip all that aside, and he wants to fuck you just as badly as I do. Don’t you, Marius?” he challenged.

The kelpie’s face warred between temptation and steely determination before the latter won. “You know we can’t. I can’t. Stop fucking around, or I will lock you out of this room for the rest of the trip,” he practically rumbled.

“Oh, such a punishment. What if we locked her in here with us instead? You’re telling me you really believe our forefathers managed not to claim their mate until after she was primped and inspected? If they felt half the need we do, ‘protocol’ is merely a joke.” Fal curled his finger just right and put pressure on my clit. I practically shook with repressed need, knowing exactly where this was going if he wrung as sharp a moan from me as I muffled by biting down on my lower lip.

“S-stop,” I said, pushing against his chest. “We…we can’t.”

Fal’s dilated eyes shrank to catlike slits, and he released a disappointed huff. He had a smug smile in place the next moment. “Very well. I will leave you here for now. Something tells me you two have some things to discuss.” He disentangled us, leaving my core feeling chill and the rest of me a little too warm. Though he’d taken an unaffected tone, he had to pause and adjust the front of his pants to mask the impressive bulge tenting the material. “Farewell, love.” He blew me a kiss with an elaborate flourish of his hand before he left.

The silence between Marius and me hung thick in the air. We both avoided eye contact. I reached for my work, and he fiddled with his book, running his thumb over the pages.

I opened the primer but couldn’t focus on a single word. Not until I had an answer to a burning question. “What does you being a kelpie have to do with…um. Whatever that was?” The more I thought about it, the more I figured it was Fal’s disruptive way of bringing up something I needed to know.

He sighed heavily, putting his book back down. “We’ve met many omegas. Some we have liked, more or less,” he muttered. “Surely you know the stories. Kelpies bond with our mates very deeply. Our loyalty is our most sought-after trait.”

“Have you already bonded with someone?” I could barely breathe. It would explain so much about him and also made Fal’s challenge all the more mortifying.

“No. It’s not…” He shook his head, growling. “I am not bonded. Every single female I’ve met has been unsuitable as a mate. Serian’s royal family is built around scent matches and balances the stability of our whole next generation, the future queen, on fate’s selection. And no offense to you, but fate picked a pixie, a Seelie who has never been challenged like the Queen of Serian is challenged daily.”

“You’re worried I’m unsuitable,” I said with a sinking feeling of dread and understanding.

“Of course I am,” he said, blunt as always. Those yellow eyes felt like they were searing into me. “I’m worried that the moment I give in to my base instincts for physical gratification, I’m going to lose you. If my mother decides you are unsuitable…”

He released a labored breath and rested his forehead on his fingertips, massaging in slow circles.

“It won’t feel good if you cannot be our princess, no matter how much we want you now. If even one of us bonds with you, the rejection will be messy for all five of us,” he said with a low growl.

“I understand,” I murmured. “The pain would be immense.”

“What do you know of pain?” he muttered. I loosed a little growl, a defensive comment on my tongue, but it seemed that was a remark he didn’t mean for me to hear, as he continued more clearly, “If it happens, the four of us, individually, must decide whether to remain together as Pack Sorles and rule one day with a different omega, or leave the royal family to mate with you. No matter what, my pack gets torn apart. Everything I—we—have trained for will have been for nothing.”

He sounded like he’d been dwelling on this for a long while. The bundle of instincts in the back of my head said to put my offense aside. My alpha is in distress . It didn’t matter that it was the grumpy kelpie with a valid reason to keep me at arm’s length. I would comfort him all the same.

I got to my feet. My heart flipped in my chest, beating harder the closer I came to Marius. He stiffened too, leaning back when I eased onto his leg and pressed myself against his chest. But he didn’t push me away, either.

I forced a small purr. Trying to comfort an immovable wall of muscle was harder than I thought it’d be. Especially when he just stared at me like he was wondering what in the stars I was doing.

“It’ll be okay,” I said. If I said it confidently enough, I had to believe it too.

He sighed, though the tension in his body hadn’t reduced in the slightest. “I’ve already sacrificed to be protector heir. I’ve bled for it.” His index finger traced the ridge of the scar cut across his face. “I can’t just…”

I nodded in understanding. He wouldn’t leave his role, even if his brothers did. Not for me. I would not see his kelpie loyalty unless I earned it as his pack princess. And that was okay, too. “I wouldn’t ask any of you to give up everything because of me,” I said in a small voice.

His growl rippled through me, and I shivered. “It’s not your choice, is it, li’l omega?”

“I guess not,” I conceded. There wasn’t a lot that was my choice from here. Until my heat overwhelmed me and my omega mark manifested, no pack could claim me with their bites and their mark between my brows. I gave a hollow little laugh, no humor there. “What’s life without a little uncertainty?”

He frowned, a line forming through his own pack mark. He lifted his hand from his side and halted it a few inches from my face, like he wasn’t sure what to do. I held myself still as the roughened texture of his fingertips skimmed my cheek but ended up leaning away from the unfamiliar rasp of his calluses. “They make this look so easy,” he muttered.

“Relax,” I whispered.

He took a few deep breaths, his rigid posture sinking back into the couch. I eased a little closer while his fingertips sank to my wing. Those same calluses felt amazing against the sensitive membrane. My purr was less forced, deepening to a steadier rhythm.

Marius was still figuring it out when Laurel walked in, saw me in his lap, and made an ugly face of jealousy. Fal popped his head through the threshold before she could leave again, grinning when he spotted where I was. “I promised the lady a game after she gave us so much privacy. No, don’t move, Lark. It’s a team game, and Marius is actually good at this one.”

The kelpie scowled, muttering, “He’s such an asshole.”

The next morning, I leaned companionably against Marius’s side as I worked on a writing lesson from the Serian primer. He still hadn’t pushed me away, so that had to amount to some progress between us. It seemed he couldn’t avoid correcting me, though, stealing the pencil from my hand a few times to modify mistakes and apply accent marks in their proper places. He slid the journal back and forth, writing with his left hand while I leaned against his other arm.

He was mid-explanation when Laurel pulled out her first “Hey, Marius” of the day. I felt his soft growl as he looked up at her.

“Yes?” he asked.

Laurel was freshly awake on the end of the other couch, looking bored. Tormund had taken to pretending he didn’t understand Theli much at all to keep their conversations shallow. He had on a tiny pair of reading spectacles to keep from squinting at a book of poetry he was trying to read.

“How did you get that scar on your face?” she asked.

“Training accident,” he answered shortly, going back to the sheet and the explanation he’d been giving.

A few moments passed before Laurel said, “Like, what kind of training accident?”

This time, his growl wasn’t quite as masked. “That is not your business.”

Her full lips framed a pout. “I was just curious.”

He ignored her and gave me back the pencil to continue practicing. I sipped from a mug of tea to wake myself up more and filled the rest of the page with Serian in my unsteady script.

“Good job,” Marius said in Serian.

“Thank you. I’m working hard,” I said in kind.

At least, that’s what I wanted to say. By the way he chuckled, it may have gone awry. “Cute accent,” he remarked, switching to Theli.

“You too.” Though all four of the princes sounded more attractive rather than cute with theirs, in my opinion.

I turned the page to see another writing exercise and sighed, getting back to it. He had the pencil again and was correcting my work ten minutes later when Laurel said, “Hey, Marius.”

He snorted. “I’m busy.”

“I just want to talk.”

“Leave me be.”

“Won’t you tell me the story about your scar?”

There was a brittle snap as his fingers clenched on the pencil. “It’s a private matter. Stop asking about it,” he ordered. “In fact, why don’t you go to the other room? Talk to your mother or Fal. He enjoys speaking endlessly yet saying little.”

I winced. Clearly, he hadn’t forgiven Fal yet for yesterday’s encounter.

“Fine. So rude,” she muttered, getting up and leaving with stomping footfalls.

“That girl, she likes you,” Tormund said.

The kelpie’s ear flicked in annoyance. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Maybe not anymore. She called him rude,” I said. That was usually the prelude to her running to Cymora to make the situation right. Again . Now my stepmother will undoubtedly hear about both Fal and Marius.

“She is too,” the giant said, shrugging. “It’s not our fault she doesn’t want to learn with you. She didn’t bring a book or anything to entertain herself either.”

“She doesn’t read,” I said.

“Mortifying,” Marius remarked before tapping the page to suggest I return to my studies. He fished out a new pencil from somewhere to replace the one he’d broken.

Tormund settled in, content to listen to us and say the occasional word or phrase in Serian for me. Of the princes, he was the one most delighted to hear that I was throwing as much of my spare time into it as I could. Warmth radiated from him. It was a normal process that he explained was called “venting” where he expelled excess heat from his body regularly. It made any room with him in it more comfortable, as his presence chased away any chill.

With the memory charm inked on my skin, I found that I was retaining what I’d learned well enough to make simple conversations. I wouldn’t be completely flatfooted in Neslune, unlike my stepfamily when they realized they couldn’t get by on finding an Unseelie who spoke Theli.

We spent another hour at this before Tormund’s belly started to grumble. “Lunchtime,” he announced. “Do you want me to bring you something, li’l bird?”

I patted my belly, considering. Usually, I could get by on a nibble or two, but today I was feeling hungrier than usual. “Maybe a sandwich,” I said. “I’ll come with you?—”

“No, it’s no trouble,” he interrupted quickly. “Don’t bother your leg any worse.”

Marius eased to his feet with a sigh. “I suppose I’ll go with him to make sure he doesn’t bring you one of every sandwich they offer.”

“Thank you.” I smiled, and his lips lifted a bit in response.

They left, and I considered returning to my nest. I’d been working hard, so maybe a nap was in order. It’d be quite pleasant to wake up to the smell of whatever kind of sandwich Tormund decided to bring.

I stood and pulled on the ladder, easing my bunk down from the wall. I was just fitting my foot in the bottom rung when Cymora walked in, followed by Laurel. “Lock the door,” my stepmother said.

“Okay,” Laurel said, sniffing. She still sounded teary. I made a face at the wall, imagining she’d been forcing herself to cry for the hour or so she’d been gone from the room.

Now I was stuck in here with them. I loosed a resigned sigh. I should’ve expected this to happen. Lunchtime was the only time I really had to myself, and they were bound to notice and take advantage. I still eyed my distance from the door, calculating if I could possibly get it unlocked and stumble into the hall before Cymora ordered me to come back inside and sit down.

I’d probably just get myself hurt and drag out whatever she already had planned. Laurel’s tears usually became mine, and I knew being on a train to Serian didn’t mean there was an exception made to that unspoken rule in my life. Fear and hopelessness coiled in my gut as my stepmother neared me. I bowed my head, hoping she’d make quick.

“So, you think you’re someone, hmm, now that you’re the whore for a pack of princes?” Cymora sneered. “It seems you’ve forgotten your place. Let me remind you what we do to servants who disrespect their betters.”