Page 8 of Fated or Knot (UnseelieVerse: The Omega Masquerade #1)

8

LARK

“ Y ou survived the Omega Masquerade,” I told myself after scooting to the edge of the bed and hanging my legs over the edge. I hesitated, knowing exactly what was waiting for me the moment I stood. “You can do anything, which means you can—ow!” The moment I put weight on my feet, I nearly fell as sensation returned and lanced up both legs.

It was going to be a bad walking day. The pre-heat symptoms had only worsened overnight, making my skin feel tight and sensitive all over. I couldn’t believe other omegas enjoyed going into heat. Maybe the sex made it worth it. For me, it would be torture until I found an essence spinner to give me a new suppressant tattoo. The sooner, the better.

I inspected the grass stains on my dress and made a pledge that, if I had any money to spare after buying my magirail ticket, I’d get a change of clothes. With the heat spreading from my core out to my limbs, I was liable to sweat through this dress by the end of the day. Gross . I wasn’t at the point of no return, though, not yet perfuming or dripping slick. I could still push my heat back.

Before I left the room, I ate as much as I could of the cold leftovers from last night’s feast. Tormund has bought me at least four meals worth of food, and it felt so wasteful to leave a lot of it behind, but I had to move. I donned my smock and tucked in Fal’s mask and the piece of Tormund’s cloak into the pocket, then I checked the hall with a poke of my head out the door.

There was no one in the hall, so nobody witnessed my limping, which was worse than usual. I regretted agreeing to dance last night. My lame foot was not made for that kind of motion, and it ached. I reached the stairs and gulped a swallow, checking the pool of essence within me that was still dangerously low but not quite as depleted as yesterday.

I no longer had to worry about Cymora demanding illusions with little warning, yet I still took a guilty look around as if I was doing something wrong. Cupping the railing with one hand, I flapped my wings and loosed tiny shimmers of essence as I floated down one staircase at a time. By the last one, where the innkeeper and the few patrons at the bar could see me, I hobbled to the ground floor the wingless way.

“Stairs are the worst,” I muttered. I bet Zemosia, utopia that I’d built it up to be, didn’t have stairs.

After turning in my room key, I felt eyes on me. A handful of alphas were eating and talking in small, animated clusters. One sat alone, tracking my progress toward the exit over the rim of a copper mug. He was distinctly merman blue, with a shaggy mane of cerulean hair shot through with green highlights.

That was about all of him I needed to see. I gritted my teeth and increased my stride to put distance between myself and the too-interested merman. Hopefully he hadn’t caught more than a whiff of my scent and was a disappointed suitor from the masquerade, due to return home at any hour.

I picked a direction and joined a flow of other fae, heading straight into the busy market I’d glimpsed yesterday. I rested my hand over the front pocket of my bulging smock, picking my steps carefully to avoid being jostled by passing folk of all sizes and designations. My mouth hung open as I took in both the people and the storefronts, trying to locate a pawn shop too.

Now that I was hyperaware of it, I noticed Unseelie here and there. I guess it wasn’t as big a deal as I thought? No one seemed surprised. There was some dissonance in my head as I compared the peaceful Unseelie minding their business with the wicked and downright evil fae I’d grown up hearing about.

Thelis and Serian hadn’t been at war even in my parents’ generation, and it seemed more than a handful of Unseelie had made their way across the sea to the Seelie capital. Just seeing a curvy scaled naga slithering along with a basket of eggs and a pair of dark elf alphas laughing together arm-in-arm nearly had me tripping over my own feet, though.

This was definitely not Osme Fen.

I still liked the anonymity of the crowd and the sight of so many varied shopfronts. I walked several blocks and lingered to look at jeweled bags and elaborate garments positioned by the windows of stores for the wealthy. Restaurants wedged in between them, using their window space to host elaborate banners illusioned to look like freshly prepared meals sizzling enticingly.

The costliness of the displayed items diminished in the direction I walked, until I happened upon my first pawn shop. It was a small box, full of display cases lit by specialized essence lamps to cause their contents to sparkle. I caught the attention of a dryad alpha who looked to be an honored elder, if his seven-foot-tall stature and the thickness of the mossy greenery and blooming flowers coating his shoulders and scalp were any indication. Many members of the Seelie had plant features or power over the natural world, more traits that set us apart from our Unseelie cousins.

He hulked behind the counter, narrowing his pupil-less green eyes at me. “See something you want, kid?” he grunted.

“I wanted to sell something, actually,” I said, feeling shy and small under his suspicious gaze. The fingers I had in my smock shook as I took out a few items. It would seem rather farfetched if I tried to offload twenty-one timepieces sized for males at the same shop, so I put two timepieces in front of him, along with three jeweled bracelets and the pair of amethyst studs I’d stolen from Laurel.

The dryad didn’t say anything for several seconds. I was already sweating from my pre-heat, but he was making my anxiety so much worse. A justification for why I had these items perched on my tongue before he lifted the first bracelet and ran it through his bark-like fingers.

“Fourteen fulls for this,” he rumbled.

He worked methodically through the items, naming a price for each. Given that I could see a timepiece for sale at two hundred and ninety-nine full moon coins in his case, I knew I was getting a raw deal when he said fifty each for the two I was offering him. But I nodded at all of his named prices, pretty sure a magirail ticket couldn’t cost more than five hundred full moons. That price would be outrageous anyway.

I might’ve stolen a lot more than I needed to. I picked at my fingernails, overcome with a rush of guilt. It wasn’t like I could return the excess items I’d taken.

After counting out the money and handing it to me in a small sack, the dryad alpha gestured toward my front pocket, which was still full of lumps. “Got anything else?”

I opened my mouth to respond, just to sneeze into my elbow. “Sorry,” I said with a fluttery smile. This persistently unamused male wouldn’t appreciate me mentioning being a little allergic to the pollen he was putting off.

The bell on the door jingled behind me as someone else walked into the store. I was weighing my options before saying, “I do have more.” I started lining up more items of value, rings and bracelets and a third timepiece.

“That’s clearly not all,” the dryad said, circling his hand. I hesitated before stacking up a couple more of my ill-gotten gains onto the counter.

He picked up one of the rings, tilting it so it sparkled under the essence lamps. “Hmm. Did you steal all this from somewhere, kid?”

My wings flicked before flattening to my back in a defensive posture as the dryad fixed me with a steely green stare.

“Every time there’s a big event, the thieves come out the next day with goods they shouldn’t?—”

“If you don’t buy her things, I will,” interrupted a deep and annoyed voice.

I whipped around, having missed someone else entering the shop. He loomed behind me, scowling at the dryad. My eyes rounded to the size of saucers as the lilt this stranger spoke with hit me at the same time his scent did. Water. Danger. Cymora and Laurel’s domain.

He smelled of waterlilies and the kind of wild mint that grew close to the lake and streams around Osme Fen. And he was the alpha who’d watched me leave the inn, but now that I saw the rest of him, I noticed the signs that he was only a merman as an illusioned disguise. He wore fashionable clothes, cut and dyed in what appeared to be an expensive style. They hugged his muscular torso in a way that left little of his sizable strength to the imagination.

Unlike Tormund, who’d been husky as well as naturally large, this alpha looked like he’d never tasted a sweet in his life. The frizzy waves of blue and green hair hanging to just past his jaw may have been the only thing soft about him. That jawline was chiseled perfection and coated in the cerulean shadow of an unshaved beard. Though one of his arms was covered by a half cloak that draped over one shoulder, the other that he placed on the counter around me had large, contoured muscles.

He met my eyes for a moment before staring at the dryad, and a shiver went down my spine. That yellow gaze was not particularly friendly. But at least it was leveled at the shopkeeper for now in some alpha dominance match.

“I could take them somewhere else,” I suggested to keep the peace.

“No,” they both said at the same time.

“How much are you going to pay her?” the prince, I assumed, asked. His Serian accent was mild yet present.

“How many items does she have?” the shopkeeper countered. Both of them were still locked in their staring match.

The prince gestured at me impatiently, and I set out another, single timepiece. “All of it,” he ordered. My knees got a little weak. I didn’t think he’d put the full force of his alpha’s presence into the order to bark at me, but he might’ve been close. I started lining up each and every item I stole from yesterday’s masquerade.

Bowing his head slightly to the prince, the dryad began rifling through the goods. “I wasn’t going to report her, for the record,” he grumbled. “Thieves are good for my business. There’s always some put-out noble male sauntering around, looking to replace what they lost.”

The prince merely growled. His gaze slid back to me, flicking up and down in a perusal so fast I could’ve blinked and missed it. I crossed my arms over my belly, turning partially away from him. I suspected this was the maw of some Unseelie trap swinging closed around me, and even if I could bolt with most of my stolen valuables laid out, one of the other males from his pack could be waiting to intercept me.

“Five hundred thirty-two fulls,” the shopkeeper said.

“Double it,” the prince ordered.

Raising a mossy brow, he said, “Seven hundred.”

“You’re taking advantage of her.”

“Need I remind you that she is a thief, sir?”

“Seven hundred is fine,” I put in tentatively. More currency than I’d ever held, for certain. The most Cymora entrusted me with were a couple half-moons, usually silvers and chips for my trips to the market.

The prince released a most-unprincely snort. He sounded somewhat like an irritated horse. “You have no proof she stole anything. Nine hundred.”

“Deal.” The dryad began counting out coins.

Wow. I guess I really was getting taken advantage of on my own. I turned to the prince and worked up the nerve to thank him. He cut a forbidding form—arms crossed, brow knitted in a scowl—and watched the shopkeeper with intense focus. Was it to avoid looking at me? Maybe I wasn’t in danger of a trap after all. I was pretty sure he smelled like a scent match, but if this was how much interest he had…

Well, it was within the Unseelie princes’ rights to reject me as a scent match and bite a more suitable princess into their pack. It just made me feel a little small and then annoyed at myself at the same time. I didn’t need them. But my core tightened with another wave of unbearable warmth at the end of that thought, as if to say yes you do .

I sneezed again. “Blessings,” the prince said, offering over a kerchief.

I was already dabbing my nose on my sleeve when I accepted it and felt the velvety material it was made of. No way was I blowing my nose into something so nice. I covertly rubbed it against my cheek, taking in the concentrated scent of him with the stirrings of a purr.

His smell triggered another cramp to seize my middle, insistent and somehow different than the others I’d suffered on and off for four years. It felt final. I clenched my eyes shut in denial, dreading the reaction building within me as heat spread into my veins like liquid lava. No matter how tightly I pressed my thighs together, I still perfumed, wafting the final sign of my pre-heat in a cloud of the sweetest chocolate and honey crackers.

When I peeled my eyelids up, I had the prince’s full attention. His jaw was tight enough to grind his teeth to powder, but his nostrils were flared and the yellow of his eyes reduced to the merest ring as his pupils expanded. “You’re going into heat,” he stated, his deep voice coarse with lust.

“I… I need…” I stuttered, backing away a step that he matched. My wings hit the icy metal edge of a display case, and I whimpered. He answered with a low growl, easing into the last inches of space between us. I was giving off a furnace but still felt the heat of his body, hyperaware of the way he stopped without actually touching me.

“I need…” I tried again. The air smelled too much like him, waterlilies, mint, and male musk becoming a heady mix I couldn’t get enough of. Desire wrapped around my spine. I wanted to feel his skin against mine more than anything. Those strong hands belonged on my curves, and I needed his knot inside me .

No. No, this couldn’t be happening. I clenched my fingernails into the pads of my hands and blurted, “I need…an essence spinner! Now!”

He startled, then recoiled, giving his head a shake. The sheer panic in my words must’ve woken him from the spell of my pheromones. “Now?” he demanded.

“Right now,” I confirmed.

Pivoting on his heel, he grabbed the dryad shopkeeper by the shoulder, who was watching us as if we were his afternoon entertainment. “I will be back,” the prince stated roughly. “And you will have her nine hundred full moons ready for me. I will be counting each and every one.”

“Of course,” he replied dryly.

Releasing him, the prince frowned at me. “If it’s right now , you walk too slowly.” It sounded like he was reasoning with himself before he lifted and tossed me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. I squeaked a short protest before his hand closed around my thigh and his arm become a band holding me in place as he strode out of the pawn shop.

He took off running down the street, announcing himself with a shout of “Out of the way!” I bounced on his shoulder, watching different fae’s reactions to the scene we made after we had already passed them by.

My cheeks were suffused, so red I couldn’t tell the difference between heat and embarrassment. Stars, it was a good thing I was leaving Ilysnor as soon as I could—I’d never be able to show my face again, just in case anyone recognized me as the pixie who’d been run through the marketplace in a mad dash and left a trail of perfume in her wake.

He picked up speed somehow, racing around and through the crowd. I tried to focus on not going into heat. The process was a lot faster, I’d heard, if an omega surrendered to it, preferably in the comfort of her nest with her chosen mates already marked with her scent. My body didn’t want to hold back any longer. When my first heat finally hit, be it in a few minutes or however much longer another suppressant tattoo could hold it, it was going to grip me in a fiery rage.

No. No no no.

I’d clenched my muscles and eyes shut again, noticing when the sunlight dimmed behind my lids. We bounced up several flights of stairs, and he jostled my too-sensitive body the entire way up, drawing a full-blown moan from me. The prince rumbled low in his throat, sounding more like thunder than an alpha, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever heard. I perfumed again for him.

A few moments later, he was knocking furiously on a door. “Kauz!” he practically roared. “Open this door right now!”

I fluttered my wings, trying to get a look over his shoulder, but I was well and truly stuck in this compromised position. His grip on my thighs felt like a vice. But at least I recognized where we were—the same inn I’d just spent the night in. Just figures that Tormund would take me to a place where the rest of his pack was.

The hinges on the door creaked, and a much calmer male said, “It’s unlocked, you barbarian?—”

There was one last whirl of air as I was rushed into the room and plonked into a seat. Now upright, I reeled, dizzy with the sudden movement.

“There. She needs you,” my would-be savior said before running back out the door and shutting it hard behind him.

I turned to the male he’d left me with, Kauz. He had a heavy set of wings that nearly swept the ground when he turned and looked at me with a pair of unusual eyes resembling the starry sky, rimmed by icy white lashes. He looked familiar, though I had no idea how. I’d never met anyone with such a striking feature. “Are you an essence spinner?” I asked.

“I am. You have need of me, hmm,” he replied.

His nostrils flared, and the set of his mouth softened. As he spoke, I caught no sign of sharp fangs. He must’ve been an Unseelie with wings like that, but I didn’t care. He was a beta and an essence spinner, so the stars themselves had sent him. Only a beta could ignore the pheromone cloud I was putting off as I sat there holding my thighs as tightly pressed together as I could. My breath came in short pants, my pupils blown.

“My heat,” I managed to say before yet another cramp had me in its grasp.

“Finally, I’ve found a force that can make Marius turn tail and flee.” He chuckled as he raised a hand, summoning essence that began to spin between his fingers. The magic matched his hair, white with a sprinkling of glimmers like stars. “His mate’s heat.”

Oh no, not the m-word. Calling these males scent matches was enough; mates implied a sense of intimacy we definitely didn’t have. “Suppressant,” I gasped. “Please.”

Kauz’s face etched in concern. In that moment, he looked exactly like Fal; they had to be brothers. He spoke in a low tone, mostly to himself. “Suppress this? I can give it a try. I’ll go get the ink.”