“Nay—you can’t,” Vor said, glaring down at him.
The door swung open before they could reach it, and Greer slipped outside.“Thereyou are.”
“Is all prepared?” Vor asked.
“The others had already returned home and washed up. Lazlo is cooking dinner. Owan is making bread. I’ll go now and wash up myself.” Greer turned and smiled at Vor. “Unless you’d like to wash first? I can watch the omega for you while you do.”
“Nay,”Vor barked. “Go. I’ll bathe later.” Vor eyed Snow. “With the omega.”
Snow blanched. He would not bathe with an alpha he didn’t know—yet at the same time, a bath was an enticing offer. He wasn’t sure if that was the prospect of the warm tub or the alpha who might be filling it.
“Oh, withhim,hmm?” Greer asked, one brow rising. His gaze drifted to Snow. “Welcome to ourhumbleabode.”
As they entered through the doorway, a crowd of four towering alphas surrounded them, barring Snow from reaching the roaring fire he so yearned to feel upon his flesh. Snow clung closer to Vor, overwhelmed by the cluster of men.
“My gods,heisreal,”a younger, green-eyed, red-headed alpha scoffed, dough on the long, lean pale fingers he held upright to avoid touching anything. His ivory skin and freckles coupled with an accent heavy with a rolled ‘r’ sounded as if he hailedfrom the North Islands. Snow was quite familiar, as his father did trade with the king there. Envoys had come and gone for years. “Greer weren’t lying after all, Laz.”
“Do ye think he’s fey?” a smaller, blond alpha asked, one brow rising over a bright blue eye as he tapped a wooden spoon against his stubbled jaw. His pale complexion and hint of an accent whispered he came from south of the valley, perhaps from the snowy mountains. “Helooksfey. You can never trust the fey, Vor.”
“Perhaps he is kinnara, ready to feast on our souls,” another alpha quipped, his accent intriguing. “I believe you call themsirenshere?”
This one had averyunique face with skin the color of deep bronze. His accent was one Snow had never heard before. Enamored, Snow searched him over.
“Don’t be daft,” the fourth alpha beside him replied with another unfamiliar accent. He was even more distinctive than his friend, with deep, dark, angular eyes and smooth, beige skin. His hair was black, except for a shock of pure white in the front and a slash of it through one eyebrow. “Sirens live in the water, not in the middle of the wood.”
“The river’s notthatfar,” the bronze alpha argued, tilting his head as he scanned Snow’s face again. “He might’ve swum upstream to find us—and murder us in the night. Sirensliveto kill alphas, just like the kinnara.”
“I’m no siren,” Snow murmured. “Or kinnara.”
“Ah,exactlywhat a siren would say,” the bronze man contended as he took a step closer, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Luckily, Idon’t mind either way.Seduce me,beautiful siren. Take me away from this miserable existence.Please.”
Snow smiled at the wide one spread across the alpha’s face, relaxing against Vor.
“Will you all back up and let him breathe?” Vor barked.
The others glared at Vor for a second before they turned smiles back to Snow, ignoring the big brute. That bark did something to Snow, though—which caused him to writhe against the alpha. Vor’s heated gaze swung his way.
“Forgive us,” the bronze alpha murmured, recapturing Snow’s attention. “We get so few guests so far here. And never one quite so lovely.”
“Did someone boil water as I asked?” Vor asked, interrupting the man and pushing through them.
Snow nearly admonished him for his rudeness, but the result led them closer to the fire. He nearly moaned as he felt the first licks of warmth against his skin.
“We did,” the alpha with unique eyes said behind them. “We just put it on a few moments before you arrived. It should boil soon.”
Vor sat Snow on a massive, well-worn leather chair in front of the fire before sitting down across from him on a foot stool fashioned from the same leather. Snow eyed them both. The chair was soft and well made, like the ones found in his father’s private study, and the stool appeared to be as well. They seemed almost out of place amongst the other roughhewn tables and chairs around the room. Vor lifted both of Snow’s feet on top of one thick thigh, covered in leather chausses nearly the same color as the chair.
“The omega’s hurt and needs tending. Someone bring me some clean cloth and salve.” Vor paused his commands to get a better look at the cuts on Snow’s feet and legs. “He needs an ale to drink. Is there any leftover bannock from yesterday eve?”
“Can’t he wait?” asked the blond. He stirred an enormous, cauldron-like pot hanging nearby in the wide, massive hearth as tall as Vor, staring at Snow the entire time. “The stew shouldn’t be much longer.”
“He’s famished,”Vor snapped without looking up from his inspection of Snow’s feet. “A small bite of oatcake won’t destroy his appetite, I’m sure.”
“I can wait,” Snow whispered, not wanting to cause a quarrel.
Vor’s gaze whipped to his.“Nay.I heard your stomach warbling beside my ear the entire way here.”
Snow’s stomach chose to gurgle again, clearly thankful for Vor’s refusal. The man showed no pleasure at being proven right, though. He went back to his examination of Snow’s feet and legs.
