Page 9 of The Omega Thief

In return, Attiker would make sure he got the ointment Bartholomew’s aging mother needed for her knees at half price, and he always let him know if one of the ships had extra fish they needed to sell. He liked living here. He had friends, and the evenings he spent in the corner talking to Bartholomew after closing made him miss having a dad a little bit less. He just had the two marks he needed for Gilbertson and two jacks, which was four short for the rent. He wasn’t due to be paid by the healers for another two weeks, which meant he would owe eighteen jacks and never catch up.

With a last look around, he jogged down the steps and into the bar. It was heaving, and Jenny, Bartholomew’s daughter, even had the separate dining room open, and three of the village lads were helping to wait on the visitors coming for the bonding festival. He looked to see if he could get to Bartholomew without walking through most of the people he knew, but his luck didn’t hold, and he was barely one step into the bar when Gosforth Nightingale haled him in such a big booming voice, the whole inn stopped to stare.

“You lucky bugger, Attiker!” Gosforth fought through the crowd to slap him on his back. “I thought you were heading for the cells all weekend. Come and have an ale.”

Attiker let himself be pulled along, not having the heart to deny his friends. He needed to get Bartholomew on his own, but the bar was five people deep, and even helped by the two others Bartholemew had employed for the weekend, he never stopped.

“So what’s the palace like?” Gossy pushed a full jug into Attiker’s hand and eyed him eagerly. “I heard they drink out of gold cups, and the chandeliers are made out of diamonds.”

Attiker took a generous swallow and thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t given them his address. The Bluebell was nearer the docks, and good luck getting any information from anyone in there.

“They don’t have diamonds in the cells, ya daft bugger,” Ashford Enberry said and snorted.

Gossy looked crestfallen. “But didn’t ya see owt?”

“Well,” Attiker said and arched an eyebrow. “I actually saw the prince.”

“No,” Gossy breathed out in awe, and all his friends made a general oohing sound that echoed around the pub. Attiker took another swallow. There was no denying Bartholomew didn’t water his ale as much as some places, and he kept the pipes clean. He took pride in serving a jug of ale people came back for.

He needed to speak to Bartholomew, but the man wouldn’t thank him for pulling him from his customers at the moment, and he had until tomorrow to get Gilbertson the money. He stopped worrying about the prince. Thakeray had said they were going to let him go. The prince had all the bonding nonsense to sort out, and he doubted he would remember a petty thief he’d shared a bed with for a quick tumble.

Attiker had no idea why the thought of not being remembered when he should have been praying for just such a thing twisted his gut. He should be celebrating, not trying to work out why his insides seemed hollow. He must be hungry. The pork and apple pie Jenny was serving smelled amazing. He wasn’t sure how he was suddenly aware of it so much as it was always pork and apple on a Friday. Maybe she’d made extra or something.

Attiker finished off his ale but was still unable to get near Bartholomew. He was a good tenant. Bartholomew always said so. And he would be able to let the room out for the tourists this weekend. The whole city was heaving, and he knew Bartholomew could get extra for those who stayed through Monday.

Attiker nodded and turned to Gossy to refuse another ale, when an incredible smell wafted over Attiker, making him instantly and embarrassingly hard. It took him a minute to draw a steadying breath before he noticed the inn had suddenly gone from such raucous noise it made his ears hurt to silence so profound you would think you were in the cathedral.

No, Attiker thought as he looked up. Priests were noisier than this. As he looked into the pair of golden eyes that were staring at him, he sighed almost happily. Something inside him inexplicably didn’t think he was in trouble. Strangely, it felt more like he was being claimed.

Like he was coming home.

Just not to any home he’d ever known before.

Chapter five

“YourHighness,”Ashbreathedout, awe making his voice lighter. Of course Ash, in the day, had been in the army. He’d no doubt seen the prince numerous times. At least Ash managed to speak. Attiker seemed to have forgotten how.

The prince ignored everyone as they all bowed, and he took a step toward Attiker. Attiker squeaked a little as he felt a large hand cup his face.

He had a vague idea he should be on his knees or bowing. Anything but just sitting here frozen.

“Why did you leave?”

Attiker gulped. “How did you find me?”

The prince smiled. “Fenrirs have the strongest sense of smell of all shifters in the five kingdoms.” He tilted his head and inhaled. “I followed your scent.”

Of course you did. But Attiker didn’t give voice to his admission. He was too busy staring into the golden eyes that were regarding him with so much heat, and strangely, fondness.

“Perhaps I can leave some coin behind the bar to allow your friends to wish us good health while you go get your things?”

Attiker heard the cheer go up at the prince’s suggestion and empty jugs immediately being banged down on the bar. “Why do I need to go get my things?” Attiker paled. “Are you going to arrest me again?”

The prince chuckled. “No. I tend to let my guards do all the arresting for me.”

“Then why are you here?” Attiker squeaked out.

The prince leaned forward to whisper in Attiker’s ear, and the exotic scent he remembered slammed into him with such force his knees wobbled. “Because I need to get to know my bonded a little better.”

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