Lily shrugged her shoulders, always the neutral party in Harper and my conflicts. She then got to work on my face, adding powder, blush, and highlighter to my skin. She swiped a brown metallic eyeshadow on my lids that made my blue eyespop. I normally just applied a little winged liner during my everyday routine, but the combination of it with the shadow was really pretty. She finished the quick makeover with some sticky lip gloss that burned and plumped my already pouty lips even more, and a few swipes of mascara. Lily then plugged in a small curling iron that looked like a medieval torture device and put her hand on my shoulder when I tried to squirm away.
“No way! I am doing your hair! Look at how pretty you look, Rowan. C’mon. You're the lead! You're in the front singing, and you know we always get better tips when you put the extra effort in! I really need the money. We all do! Please Rowan,” she begged me.
I chewed my lip, deciding whether I should make a run for it.
“Fine, fine, please just be quick. You know I hate this part,” I said, begrudgingly sitting back down on the counter so she could do her worst.
Chapter 6: Talon
When I got to the bar, Ryker was sitting outside on a bench across from the entrance. He was lounging with his big thighs stretched wide, and his hands interlaced behind his head. Chewing on a toothpick, he looked relaxed and mellow, as always.
Ryker took very little seriously, and he was pretty lazy. I had no clue how he maintained his physique because while the rest of us worked out in the fitness center at the barracks; he hung around our dorm, scarfing down Fruity O's and watching cartoons like a kid. He was always sitting or lounging, strewn out on whatever poor object had to hold up his bulking mass.
A few beta soldiers passed him on the sidewalk, cocking their heads as if to question what he was doing in front of their bar, but he ignored them, humming a tune and bouncing his knee up and down to the tempo. When he saw me coming, he scooted tothe side, freeing up space on the end of the bench. He tapped his lap, telling me to sit on it. I rolled my eyes, taking a seat next to him.
“Suit yourself,” he scoffed, acting offended that I didn’t want to sit on his lap.
He was beyond irritating.
“I thought we were going inside, Ryker? What exactly is going on? What are you planning?”
He was annoying me already, but my wolf howled. It liked Ryker and whatever trouble he was going to get us into. The beast thought my composure was too much, too clean, too buttoned up. It enjoyed being let off its leash.
The wolf was too close to the surface tonight; I was having trouble maintaining my composure. I needed to shift or dip my dick into something badly. Cracking my neck from side to side, and then my knuckles, helped me to maintain control over it.
I was getting impatient with Ryker, who was still humming and now playing absentmindedly with something he had pulled from his pocket. It was a long, black string. I grabbed it from him quickly, holding it out in one of my tattooed hands.
“Stop humming. What exactly is this? Focus, Ryker! Answer my questions. Why are we here?”
His ADHD made conversation impossible sometimes. He was always jumping from topic to topic.
Ryker sat up, giddy, looking at the string in my hand, grinning from ear to ear.
“It’s a magic fucking string, Talon.”
“A magic string? Are you high? What the hell is going on? Why are we at a beta bar? What do you mean by a magic string? I'm not in the mood for this shit tonight!”
I had had enough. I needed a release, and if I hurried up, I was sure I could have one of the beta women at The Rusty Tap on my dick within the next ten minutes. Debating with my wolf, we ultimately agreed to leave on the promise of something warm and wet to sink into. There was no doubt I would find that at the alpha bar, and Ryker’s games were on my nerves.
“Fuck this, I’m out. Have fun with your magic string. I’m going to The Rusty Tap,” I told him as I stood up, holding the string out for him to take back.
He jumped up quickly, blocking my path with his bulky mass. I was taller than him, but Ryker was a tank. Where I was lean, sleek and toned, Ryker was all dense muscle.
“Wait! Wait. Hear me out. Smell it or rather, have your wolf smell it. I need its nose. I think that string came from a fucking omega.” He winked at me and resumed humming.
That got my attentionquickly.
An omega…
“Explain. Now!” I demanded, putting a little of my alpha bark into my command, hoping it would help him concentrate. What was he talking about?
“Why do you think this string came into contact with an omega?”
“Okay, here’s the deal. I was on checkpoint duty today and stopped a van with a woman in the backseat. She was little and looked like an omega. She had this string in her hands and scent-marked it really well.”
“Okay…” I said, staring at the unremarkable black string dangling between my fingertips. “That still doesn't explain why you think she’s an omega. Focus, Ryker. Why do you think that?” I asked again, frustrated.
I was tired of asking the same question over and over.