Page 8 of They Love Me Knot (Starsfalls Omegaverse #2)

Daphne

I swat desperately at the antennae to keep them from touching my face, the scent of camellias, sticky and sweet, entrapping me.

The monster seems unaffected by my attack besides secreting self-defense pheromones, which smother my other senses.

I try to get away, but its enormous arms block the narrow alley.

I swat at it again as I edge away, but it shifts toward me with a growl.

I squeak and back up, somehow getting tangled in my own feet, and start to fall. Before I do, the monster lunges and wraps its claws around my arms, pulling me close like a female praying mantis that just got laid. I squeeze my eyes shut so I won’t see my horrifying end.

“Quit knocking the flowers around. You’ll damage them, though it seems like you’re more likely to hurt yourself anyway. Stand to the side so I can get past, then you can be on your way to wherever it is you’re in such a hurry to get to,” the monster growls bitingly, instead of actually biting me.

I unscrunch my face from bracing for impact and frown. I tentatively squint my eyes open to behold the gargantuan insectoid.

The sun is in my eyes, slanting across the creature now that we’re turned around. It has green antennae and brown arms with “THIS SIDE UP” inked on them. I never imagined an insect creature would have tattoos.

In fact, I avoid thinking about insects or their humanoid relations in general.

I suppose it makes sense that insectoids would like tattoos as much as humans do.

This creature is about as polite as the humans in big cities too.

Always in such a hurry to get where they’re going that they don’t have the common decency to say “excuse me,” or just go around someone instead of bumping into them in the first place.

Well, I’m not like that. As long as this insectoid isn’t going to eat me, I can show it how to behave properly.

I brush at its claws, and the creature reluctantly lets go of my arms. I steady myself against the wall, straightening up to my full, intimidating height of 5’2”.

That’s two inches taller than the ferocious stork, and just imagine how much more havoc I can wreak with two extra inches on me.

I channel the confidence of the stork for my response.

“Excuse me. It’s easier to get around if you follow the laws of traffic, and stay on the right side of the sidewalk. Have a nice day,” I finish haughtily, nose in the air.

There, that should show it that just because it’s capable of pushing people around that doesn’t mean it’s allowed to without consequences. I’ll push back (verbally).

I start to slide past the creature, determined to get back to my important cookie errand.

I’m just about past it when it scoffs, saying, “Right, excuse me . It’s not like I was the one barreling through a delivery entrance. I’ll be sure to edge along the wall, packages scraping the brick, to ensure they’re out of your way.”

I stop with one foot out of the alley, trying to decide if I want to get into an argument with an insectoid stranger. The bigger person would keep going. Just like I left without a fuss when my alphas broke up with me.

I decide to move on quietly again, but my body must have other ideas, because suddenly I’m pivoting to face the creature.

Except as I turn back, it’s no longer a giant insectoid. Now that I’m on the other side of it, the sun shines fully on the creature, transforming it into a giant alpha carrying boxes with flowers sticking out of the tops. I can barely see his face through the flower stems.

I notice that in addition to the tattoo I already saw on its arms, which is apparently a stamp on the boxes, the boxes are also marked with Flower Gully. That farm is one of our biggest suppliers, which would explain why he’s barreling down our alley with a bunch of flowers.

My mouth is already open, prepared to deliver my cutting reply, but before I can decide if I should argue, the alpha interrupts.

“Was there something else you needed, princess?” he drawls with mocking deference.

I close my mouth with a snap and purse my lips while I think of a response, my thoughts tangled and fuzzed by his words. Tingles race through me, and I get goosebumps, my nipples tightening. I must be so angry that it’s manifesting as a physical response.

I’ve never felt like this before. I clench my thighs together.

Apparently, my pussy’s only possible contribution to my fight response is to provide lubrication, and I don’t think that’s going to help.

It might work to distract him, but since I definitely don’t want to fuck him, I don’t want him smelling me and getting the wrong idea.

I use scent-dampening products now, so he shouldn’t be able to smell that at least.

“How about an apology for almost knocking me over? This is a passageway, not a loading dock,” I finally say.

I’m not going to let another alpha act like something is my fault when it’s not. I don’t want to make our suppliers mad, but I’m sure Anicka will support me standing up for myself, especially against this guy. If he’s the usual delivery person, she’ll know all about his arrogance.

The flowers reach for me as he leans forward, the camellias blasting me with a fresh wave of earthy, floral scent like I’ve been transported, tending to a flower garden. He’s in a low bow by the time I realize what he’s doing, and with the flowers out of the way, I can finally see the alpha’s face.

His eyes are the first thing I notice, and not just because of the piercing look he’s giving me. The light amber eyes stand out in his tanned face, with wide cheekbones and a square jaw. The alpha’s short brown hair is barely visible under his cowboy hat.

“So sorry, princess. You’ve clearly slipped your escort and don’t know how to function in the real world.

Next time I’ll make sure to drop to the ground so you can step over me and be on your way.

Oh wait, you might trip then. Why don’t I just drop my packages and carry you instead, to ensure you get to your destination safely. ”

I flush in anger, and maybe embarrassment. There’s no way he could know I’m prone to tripping. That must be a lucky guess.

I shift uncomfortably at his suggestion, since I do kind of like the thought of being carried. I would never want this alpha to hold me, though. It must just be the thought of someone carrying me through the streets so I never have to jog when I’m in a rush that interests me.

The thought of him dropping to the ground before me is also intriguing…

I shake my head to clear the images that follow.

I’m not interested in subjugating people, like his nickname implies.

The thought of him down on his knees is certainly not sexually interesting, so I’m not sure where those ideas came from.

Maybe I’ve been watching too much of that Contest of Crowns show.

I have to get out of here. The honeyed camellia scent has twisted its way inside me, making it hard to keep up with our flirting.

I mean argument. See, the scent is messing with my brain.

I’ve never reacted to camellias like this before, or any other flowers, so I don’t understand why it’s happening now. Perhaps it’s a late-developing allergy.

I’ll deal with that later. For now, there’s no point in arguing with this alpha. He can’t be reasoned with.

A strong breeze helps clear my head a little. I’ve let him keep me from the cookies long enough.

“I can get where I’m going on my own,” I tell him, cleverly winning our argument.

I spin away to continue my journey to Flourist, stumbling slightly over a giant (huge, really) crack in the sidewalk, but keep my head held high as I leave him behind.

I think I hear a low, dark laugh as I walk away, but I don’t look back. The fresh air is helping, and I walk faster to leave our strange encounter behind me.

A sign catches my attention, hanging over the sidewalk. The gold letters glint in the light, curling across the wooden board to spell out “Flourist.” A cake with elaborately piped icing is painted beneath the name.

When I’m less than a block away, I smell the sugary peony desserts and stagger forward, so close to reaching the sweetest cookies in the land.

I yank the shop door open in my haste. The rush of air lets out more of the sparkling, sweet scent, and my hair whips around my face like snakes sensing their prey is close.

I step inside, and after my hair settles enough that I can see, I lock eyes with a wide-eyed alpha.

His green eyes are the color of new spring growth, bright and vibrant.

At first I’m not sure if he is an alpha because he’s on the slimmer side, but based on his height and general presence, I think he must be.

He has long, long , silvery-white hair piled on top of his head like a towering cake.

A wet splat breaks our staring contest as the slice of cake he was holding falls off the server.