Page 91 of Rogue & Her Hunters
Bird cupped my cheek. “The kindest because you don’t even realize it.”
“I should throw more things at you,” I grumbled.
Now, I pat at the hair that Bird helped to pile on top of my head. I artfully stretch my neck as I do it, which allows me to spread my scent over the bar without making it look like it’s deliberate.
Instantly, the closest Alphas duck their head like they’ve been challenged. A tall rancher stands up and hurries out.
The bartender, a weathered Beta in jeans and a flannel shirt, turns away and pretends to be inspecting the shelves of bourbon, gin, and local beers.
When I hear footfalls approaching behind me, I hold myself still and don’t react.
Bingo.
But then, I sniff.
A delicious scent washes over me of peaches drizzled with honey.
My eyes fly open.
It’s the same scent as the Beta who caught my elbow and steadied me on the sidewalk yesterday.
Have I made a mistake?
Is the Beta who is joining me now at the bar and sitting on the stool next to me simply another local?
Or is this sweet-smelling Beta much better at his job than I gave him credit for? He wasn’t up in that room opposite watching me. Instead, he was on the sidewalk, stalking me, while I thought that I was hunting him.
I shutter my expression, while I study the prettiest Beta I’ve ever seen.
He is small for a Beta, more like an Omega. He is athletic, however, with a strong jaw, which has the shadow of stubble. His eyes are a stunning honey color in his tanned face. They match his honey blond hair, which drips in silky waves to his shoulders.
He is wearing a brown sweater, pants, and flamboyant green scarf and jacket. The buckle on his belt is a flashy, metallic joker card.
He appears to be in his mid-thirties.
My heart beats faster.
If this Beta was mine, I would never let him out of my sight. He looks like a model. Surely, it’s not safe for him to be in his bar alone. Another pack would want to steal him.
Is this the Beta from the Hunter pack? Why is his scent singing to me, as if he’s a siren?
Is this his trick?
His talent?
My mind becomes hazy. My mouth waters, and I lick over my sharp teeth.
If he was an Omega, then I’d crave to bite into his fucking neck.
I clench my hands until my knuckles are white around my glass.
He is just another job, and one that will end up bloody under my fangs, but not in a fun way, by the end of tonight.
My gaze drops to the Beta’s soft, kissable lips.
I force myself to look away.
Suddenly, the Beta tumbles forward like he’s slipped off the stool, and now, it’s me reaching forward to steady him by the shoulders.
