“Isn't it exciting,” one of them sighs. She reminds me of Leelah. “The king will choose a bride. Our village is the first to hold the Queen Covenant.”
“Fantastic,” I reply. She breaks into a wide grin and keeps walking. Like I said, they don't get sarcasm on this planet.
The soldiers close ranks around us, herding us towards the village. Maybe once we get there, I can slip away.
But no, we're marched right into the center of the square, where the market booths have been pushed back to make room for a large platform. The soldiers help each Beta female up onto it in turn. I scramble up before anyone can touch me, and try to make my way to the center of the group so I’m somewhat hidden.
“I need a distraction,” I whisper to Rogue. It darts away, blowing through the crowd, ruffling people’s hair and knocking back their hoods.
I inch to the back of the platform, looking for an escape route. The soldiers have formed a wall around the perimeter. One of them leans in, his nostrils flaring as he breathes in our combined scent.
I tug my hood over my face and hope the moonflowers can cover the floral musk emanating from my pores. Damn this Omega business. I’m human. How is it fucking possible that I’m going into estrus?
“Look! The windmill!” someone cries.
The wood creaks as the blades go faster and faster until they blur.
“It’s going to fall!”
All around me, people are screaming and rushing off the platform. I let myself get swept along and leap off, darting through the crowd.
“Hey!” A soldier grabs at my cloak but I duck into the tavern, racing past shocked servers and customers until I burst out the back door. A group of villagers has gathered there, toasting the king. They turn as one, and someone’s ale splashes over me. That’s the least of my worries.
Shouts go up behind me. An Alpha soldier is growling, pushing his way through the tavern towards me.
I put my head down and run. Rogue catches up, puffing on the back of my neck as I race down the road.
“Good distraction,” I tell it.
The ale does me a favor, covering my scent, but it’s mostly worn off by the time I reach the river.
There’s another patrol of soldiers nearby. Somehow, I can smell them—a woodsy scent with a pinch of salt and a sour note, like fermented grapes. I wrinkle my nose.
I’ve almost reached the water’s edge when a meaty hand grabs my arm.
The Alpha soldier yanks me up against him.
Byrol.
His eyes are glazed. “I knew you would run. But I scented you first, and you will be mine,Omega.”
Rogue whips up suddenly, blowing my cloak over his head.
I twist out of Byrol’s grip and flee, leaving my cloak behind. The vines part before me and reknit behind me, cutting the soldier off. The little wind caresses my face.
“Go,” I tell it. “Get help!”
I don't know what the heck Rogue can do, but maybe it knows better than I do.
It gusts ahead of me, parting the vines wider. Moonflowers bloom as I pass, and I risk a glance back to check the thorny briars are still weaving into nets behind me, slowing the Alpha’s advance.
The bracken shakes and shudders. Byrol is hacking at the vines. His muscles bunch bigger and he lets out a roar.
I scramble away, climbing the hill as fast as I can.
It’s hopeless. Torches flare in the dimming light of dusk. More Alphas have spotted us, and are coming to Byrol’s aid. “Stop her!” one cries. “She’s the Omega!”
I’m out of breath and panicking when the same magic as last time kicks in. The ground rolls beneath my feet, a mossy wave carrying me higher up the hill.
