Consort (Noble Reckoning #1)

Chapter 7

Rue

After Cirro left last night, my mother came rushing in. I told her about my plan to escape. She agreed that it was the only way out of becoming Luna after what happened. Even if someone else presented tomorrow, I was first. I doubt he’d say never mind to me and take it all back.

I knew my mother would help me, but she shocked me by saying she’d come with me. I tried to talk her out of it, but she said there was nothing keeping her here. I see her point. A mate who’s continually hurt and betrayed her? A deranged pack leader? Packmates who find this all acceptable? No, there’s nothing worth staying for.

I’ve barely dragged myself out of bed when Bock barges into our tent. He throws open the flap and fills the space with his tanned, beefy body. I’ve only just pulled on my leathers when his broad chest appears in front of me, blocking my mother and everything else from my sight.

A little warning would have been nice. Or a damn invitation.

His short, brown hair is slicked back, like he often wears it for mating ceremonies and other formal occasions. Is he trying to impress me? He’s already decided that I’m his mate. Does it really matter how I think he looks?

And what about all the other Alphas I’m to be indirectly mated to? Where are they with their stupid hairdos and extra-tight leathers?

I must look a mess after my restless night. Definitely not up to a Prime’s standards, I’m sure. Not that I care about impressing him. It actually feels like a small victory, standing here unkempt and uncaring as the mighty Prime visits his prize.

My satisfaction is squashed as his power pulses out at me. It surrounds me, wrapping me in an unwelcome and suffocating hug. Mother grits her teeth as it affects her too, pressing her back against the tent frame. If I weren’t so disgusted by Bock, I’d absolutely be shaking in fear of him right now.

“Good morning, mate,” he rumbles, stepping directly in front of me.

His bare, hairy chest is already covered in sweat. The drops make their way through the forest on his pecs, and my Omega perks up at the scent. But my rational mind recoils. This is the scent that he plans to force on me for the rest of my life. And his wouldn’t be the only one.

Think you’ll be as giddy over all the other Alphas’ scents, too, Omega?

Bock is so much taller than me. He’s barely able to stand up straight in our tent. I’d have to crane my neck all the way back to see his face right now. He’s not worth the effort in the slightest. Luckily, I’m supposed to be submissive, so I keep my head where it is and avoid his gaze.

“How I pray the moons pass quickly,” he rumbles, inching his thick fingers toward my face.

I fight the urge to gag as his calloused skin brushes beneath my chin and down my throat. He doesn’t care that my mother is here. He continues to touch me in front of her, purring as he loosely wraps his hand around my neck.

I’m too furious to let my instincts swoon at the Alpha sound. How dare he disrespect my mother like this? She’s been stuck with an unfaithful mate for years because of his fucked-up rules. Now, he shoves her aside in her own home, threatening to take her daughter from her as well.

Will running really be enough? I no longer feel any trace of my feeble Omega as I seethe beneath his touch. I want to tear each of his fat fingers off my neck and crush them into tiny pieces. I want to slice off the nose he’s burying in my neck and shove it up my father’s ass. And his giant, bloated head would look more appetizing on a pike, roasting in the sun with the rest of the meat.

But I endure his foul touch and play the part of demure Omega. Better to stroke his ego than provoke his anger. Omegas have always gotten time to adjust before they’re taken as mates, but Bock could easily break that tradition. Giving him any reason to speed things up would work against me. I just need a little time to find the chance to slip away.

“Such a good Omega,” the Prime mutters against my neck.

He doesn’t need to be standing this close for me to notice his slimy cock rising in his creaking leathers. That’d be like missing a golem crashing through our camp. That monstrous thing is never touching me.

“How quickly you’ve taken to your designation,” he whispers, giving my collarbone a lick.

His touch feels corrosive, like my skin is burning away beneath it. I have to shut down my instincts and my anger to keep it together. They’d only lead to a slick undergarment or murder. Neither option would get me safely away from this pack.

I try to imagine the sweetest, most adorably pathetic Omega smile and paint it on my face. It’s there waiting for him when he finally pulls away from my neck. His growl of approval does nothing for me, but I keep smiling. It’s a smile I’ll have to wear until we can get away. I might as well get used to how it feels.

“No more work for you, Omega,” he says, running the back of his fingers down my cheek. “Relax today. I’ll return later to escort you to the evening meal.”

He gives my throat a light squeeze and flashes out of my tent. A show of his power I’m supposed to be impressed by, I guess. I’m simply relieved that he’s gone. But his scent remains, hanging in the air to taunt me. I grab my pillow and fan it around the tent, urging the stink to follow him out.

When I’m able to breathe again, I toss it onto my bed and flop down beside it. I expect my mother to rush over and comfort me. Instead, she begins fumbling around the tent and throwing a few things into her market sack. I notice her hands shaking and her face reddened, as it does when she’s angry.

“We leave now,” she says.

“Now?” I ask, trying to decide if she’s serious. “But what about gaining Bock’s trust? Showing him that I don’t need to be watched?”

“You just did,” she says, grabbing a night wrapping and shoving it in. “And if you think he’s going to be able to control himself for three whole moons, you’re mistaken.”

I stare dumbly at her as she puts another empty sack into the one she’s been packing. “Getting out of camp shouldn’t be too tough. We’ll follow the line of the stream. The real obstacle will be getting past the Alphas who guard the perimeter. But don’t worry. I can get us out.”

“How?” I whisper as my own hands begin to tremble. “Even illusioned fae can’t get past an Alpha’s senses. And what if we’re seen with your market sack? It’s sooner than you’d usually go.”

“There you go again, thinking Betas have no brains. It’ll be fine. Just trust me, and let me do the talking if we’re spotted.”

I’ve always been independent. It feels strange to quietly follow her lead and let her protect me. But wisdom comes with age. She knows things I don’t. This situation is completely unfamiliar to me, so I’m going to have to push my pride down a bit and be a follower this time.

“Okay, let’s go,” she says, throwing the pack over her shoulders.

I follow her down to the secluded part of the stream where I’ve been bathing. A few shifters see us as we head down, but they only smile and go back to what they’re doing. I can’t help but wonder how they see me now. It doesn’t matter what my Luna duties should be–nurturing the members of the pack, helping mothers with their younglings, planning celebrations for mating ceremonies… All they see now when they look at me is heats, mating, moaning, sharing.

Any fond memories of my pack slip away as those words adhere themselves to me. I can’t look these shifters in the eye again. Any of them. The urge to get away from this place is choking the life out of me. I want to run, but I quietly follow my mother along the shore toward the nearest fae market, hoping whatever her plan is works.

She’s been to the fae market many times for things we can’t get from the land. Normally, she has an Alpha with her. But there isn’t one in the pack we can trust with this. We’ll just have to risk it on our own.

“There will be only one guard if we go this way,” she tells me, whispering so low I can barely hear her.

She knows the camp better than I do. I’ve never even been to the edges of the territory other than the times we’ve had to move our camp. If she says this way is the safest, then I trust her.

“Yes, Mother,” I say, reaching out to touch her braid as she walks in front of me.

My shoulders immediately relax when I feel the soft strands under my fingers. She’s always come through for me. This time will be no different. I can’t believe how fortunate I am that she’s coming with me. I’d accepted trading my horrid fate for loneliness, but she’s even managed to protect me from that.

We continue quietly through the forest. The only sounds are the faint clinking of jars in her pack and the muffled sounds of our footsteps sinking into the soft ground. I focus on stepping over purple roots and avoiding bollus plants that snap at my legs as we pass by.

My eyes dart around, looking for whichever Alpha is responsible for this post. I’m hoping we can slip past him while he’s on the other end of his designated area. It’s nerve-wracking not knowing exactly where he will be. Alphas are big and bulky, but they’re stealthier than one would imagine.

Every snap of a twig and rustle of branches makes me jump. My neck becomes sore from jerking it in the direction of each sound, expecting shining wolf eyes to be staring back at me. I keep waiting for Mother to tell me that we made it past, hoping she’s just remaining quiet to be extra cautious.

But no such luck. Alpha hearing is too keen. A giant gray wolf bursts through the trees and growls at us before we can take another step. Mother stops short, and I crash into her back, barely managing to cover my mouth before my scream slips out.

The wolf shifts back, leaving an angry Mannus in its spot. He’s a cocky Alpha I’ve always done my best to avoid. Of course he’d be the one at this post. He stands naked with his short, orange hair sticking out in all directions. His face is twisted up in a grouchy scowl, and his hands are balled into fists by his sides. Despite being my father’s age, he looks like a youngling just waking up from a fitful nap.

“Where do you think you’re going, Omega?” he demands. He then shoots a disapproving look at my mother. “And without an Alpha escort?”

“I’m taking Rue to the market,” my mother says confidently. “We need to find her some… special garments. Ones that no Alpha should see before the Prime does. And do you really think any Alpha could resist peeking? We must go alone.”

Mannus lets his eyes roam over the parts of me such garments would emphasize. He grins wickedly, the tips of his fangs peeking from between his lips. A low growl threatens to derail our plan, almost leaving me slicked and ready to submit.

I hate this body.

“I don’t have the quality fabrics I would need to create them myself, nor the time,” Mother says when he still hasn’t responded. “I’ll have her measured at the market and order some special pieces to be made there.”

“The fae are worthless, but they do make some exquisite garments,” he says eagerly. “He leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Have them make something in gold.”

I’m flooded with relief that he intends to let us go. But his breath is oily on my skin, and his bare cock is inches from my thigh. It’s hard not to vomit. I swallow thickly and avert my eyes for him.

Mother is brilliant. The horny, disgusting Alpha thinks he’ll get a chance to see these garments and rip some of them off my body. He’s too busy imagining what he’ll do with me to realize Bock will tear his head off for allowing us to go alone.

Mannus steps to the side and scents me deeply as I pass. It makes me want to shove his fangs up into his brain. But lust is our ally right now. We just have to get to the market and gather what we need to start our new life together. I can ignore his repulsive behavior in exchange for that.

After trudging silently through the damp woods for a while, we reach the fae market. It’s in a large clearing in the middle of a few small villages. Fae bustle about unconcerned, pulling creaky carts behind them and weaving between colorful tables covered in all kinds of goods and treats.

The little stalls and huts are lopsided and old, but to me, they’re charming and beautiful. The fae themselves are just as colorful with their heads of red, teal, and fuchsia hair. I try not to stare at the long, pointy ears sticking out of the bright manes, but they’re just too fascinating to look away from.

A few years back, two fae stumbled into our territory, bloody and wounded after being attacked by ogres. They begged for our pack to help them. They had no choice. It was shifters or death. Bock let them in and gave them what they needed before sending them on their way.

They were stunning to look at. Something about the lines of their faces and texture of their skin just grabbed my eyes and held on tight. They stayed on the outskirts of the camp, likely nervous to be around so many shifters who resent their kind. Arya and I had to sneak out and hide to watch them.

The two fae grew more and more beautiful as they washed the blood and grime from their faces. They spent just an evening with our pack, but I never forgot their striking beauty and almost shimmering skin after they were gone.

These fae are no less stunning, but the way they look down their noses at us as we pass reminds me how they see the rest of the realm. Like we’re beneath them. Unworthy of lively markets and careless strolls through the woods.

They aren’t any better than us because of their beauty or because they’re like the queen. She’s not our queen. She’s just an evil, flat-faced ogre wrapped in a beautiful fae cloak. One we just haven’t found a way to get rid of yet.

The fae wander to the various stalls, sipping on wine that glows in swirls of gold and blue. They’re very forward, hanging all over each other as they talk and walk. Some are kissing, others are even half undressed, not caring who sees their intimate moments. They act like the own the realm, indulging in whatever they please just because they are the species they are.

Despite my bitterness, my confidence starts to fray as we join the crowd and walk among them. I’ve never been around this many fae before. My steps stutter, and I reach out to hold onto my mother’s pack.

“Don’t worry,” Mother says, sensing my nerves. “Drunken fae are happy fae. And nobles don’t frequent this market. Right now, being here is safer than being out in the woods by ourselves.”

Unlike Alphas, who tend to get aggressive when they drink too much, fae become happy and aroused. Maybe it’s because they have nothing to be angry about. Whatever the reason, it’s working in our favor.

We make our way through the cackling and moaning fae without much trouble, heading toward a hut at the end of the line. I try to keep my eyes on my mother’s back, unaccustomed to nude bodies engaging in such intimate acts for all to see. I notice a few snarls as we pass, but most of them just carry on with their fun.

We stop at a small, pink hut covered with vials and charms. Some dangle from the awning, while others are neatly arranged on a counter at the front. An older fae is busy wrapping herbs into small bundles when we approach.

His hair is light blue, and he wears a thin, aged smile as he works. But there’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. I bet he’s glamoured himself to look older so he’ll seem more trustworthy. I’ve heard all about the fae and their tricks. The Alphas love to tell stories about them. I doubt all the stories are true, but I know many of them are. They match the tales of visiting shifters from other packs.

I know better than to trust a fae. They may be unable to lie, but their truths are cunning and twisted. They even manage to trick each other. Mother has warned me to stay quiet and let her handle things here, and I’m just fine with that.

The fae looks up and nods at my mother. When he notices me, he peers around her to get a better look. She steps closer to him, blocking his view, and clears her throat.

“Lasha, perfect timing,” he says, choosing not to push her. “I’ve almost run out of healing charms. How much do you have for me today?”

“Five,” she replies, pulling the simple, green jars from her pack and placing them in front of him.

Mother sews, but she also buys supplies for our pack in exchange for Alpha blood. Some fae have the gift of healing magic, but all shifters are fast healing. Especially the Alphas. Mother collects the blood to trade for things the pack needs but can’t easily get from the land.

This fae makes charms containing a small amount of the Alpha blood. If a fae is injured, they can open the charm and pour it on their wounds, buying themselves time until they can find a healer. It’s ironic how they find us distasteful but are just fine with rubbing our blood all over themselves when it suits them.

The fae grins and reaches for the jars, but my mother covers them with her hands. “Payment first,” she says firmly.

His smile remains in place as he pulls five silver coins from a box in the back–one for each jar. “Of course. How silly of me.”

He grabs some empty jars for the next batch and pushes them across the counter. Mother collects the coins and jars and turns away with no more words for the old fae.

He laughs at her dismissal and calls after us, “Ta-ta, Lasha! Bring more than five next time!”

“He’ll have to live with Beta blood from now on,” Mother mutters as she leads me away.

The thought of her draining her own blood into those jars for that greedy fae makes me want to slap the glamour off his face. I’ll help her with it. Omega blood heals faster than a Beta’s. She’ll need it to keep up with the fae’s demand.

“Now, let’s gather what we need and then find our new home,” she says with a smile.

I trail quietly behind her as she interacts with other fae, gathering seeds, supplies for baking, and other essentials we’ll need. When she’s finished, we head in the opposite direction from where we came, in search of an abandoned hut or cave to hide in. We’ll figure out the rest once we’re somewhere safe.

I’m nervous, but I’m excited to do something new. And relieved to be free of Alphas. We’ll live in peace, or as much peace as we can. I’ll do my best to make it enjoyable for my mother. I can be funny. I can be creative. Maybe one day, when we’re no longer being searched for, we’ll move on to a new pack.

I don’t need a pack, but I feel that my mother deserves a new start, and possibly a new mate, after all she’s sacrificed for me.

***

We’ve been walking for what seems like forever. It’s likely only been a couple hours, but with all the stuff we’re lugging around, each step feels like an eternity. The empty sack Mother brought is now strapped to my back and full of provisions from the market. I have to lean forward to keep the weight from pulling me down onto my ass. Stiffer contents dig into my skin as I struggle to keep up with my mother.

The rough terrain she’s leading us through doesn’t make it any easier. But she fearlessly pushes through prickly walls of bushes and climbs up intimidating hills, dragging me along behind her. I stopped asking for a break. She told me no the first three times, so I decide not to waste the little breath I have left. I get that we need to stay hidden, but this is starting to feel a bit excessive.

She finally comes to a stop beside a particularly dense cluster of trees and bushes. I plop down on the ground to catch my breath, letting the load I’ve been carrying sprawl out on the dirt around me. My mother doesn’t join me. She walks along the thicket from edge to edge, prodding at the small trunks and inspecting the vines tangled up within them.

“Come rest,” I croak, my voice hoarse from too much activity and too little water.

She holds up a finger for me to hush and continues poking at the plants. As she carries on her pointless task, I smile and lean back on my hands, grateful for the rest. That is until she vanishes right into the thicket.

I scramble to my feet and race over to where she had been standing. Panic sets in as I think of all the lesser fae creatures that could have snatched her. None of the possibilities are comforting.

“Mother!” I hiss, afraid to draw attention to ourselves.

I slam my hands against the thick trunks and twisted stems, looking for the weak spot. When I finally find it, I crash through as quickly as she had, landing hard on my side.

I groan and rub my hip as I pick myself up off the ground. The pain vanishes when I see that my mother is perfectly safe. The only thing I feel now is a sense of awe at what she’s stumbled into.

We’re standing in a small sanctuary, tucked away between walls of towering trees and tightly woven vines. There’s a small, but sturdy, hut sitting peacefully in the middle of the space. It’s painted to match the nature around it, blending in almost perfectly. I wonder if a fae has illusioned it to look this way or if someone took the time to hand-paint every realistic vein of each leaf onto the wood.

Being so perfectly camouflaged seems a bit unnecessary. I can’t imagine anyone spying the structure through the thick walls of the enclosure as they pass by. But I remember the sharpness of an Alpha’s sight and decide that I appreciate the extra precaution.

“Did you know this was here?” I ask as I consider her almost direct path through the miserable terrain and her odd behavior once we arrived.

“No,” she says, popping back through the thicket with the supplies I’d dropped outside. I spin around to look at her, not realizing she’d gone back through. “I just figured a good place to hide is a place no one would want to go.”

“It seems someone else had that same idea,” I say, edging closer to the hut. “It looks abandoned. There’s dusty silkspinner netting all over the place. But do you think it’s been spelled?”

“No clue,” she says as she breezes past me and pushes open the rickety door.

I tense up, expecting her to be thrown back by some unseen magic protecting the place. But nothing happens. I curse my designation for its skittishness and march through the door after her.

She’s already fussing with the bedding to make separate sleeping areas for us on either side of a little table. It’s a simple setup, much like our tent was, but it will be perfect. It’s safe, it’s cozy, and best of all, there are no damn Alphas.