Geralt was grumpier than usual as he followed the omega. He only had himself to blame- he had his back turned and silver sword off to the side. He had under estimated his reputation, thinking that people in this city he had traveled to knew of him and feared him.
Apparently, that was not the case.
The thief came to a ramshackled cottage on the outskirts of the city, not quite in the forest, not quite close to the city. She carefully surveyed her surroundings, her hand on the silver sword as she made her way closer to the door.
The second she was inside, a horrified cry met Geralt's ears, prompting him to speed his way over towards the door, where he found her on the ground, cradling a woman and speaking softly to her.
"Nat, please don't die," she sobbed, Geralt's silver sword lying discarded off to the side. "You're all I have left!"
"Annie, there's no time to find a healer for me," the woman- Nat- wheezed from her injuries. "I need you to kill me."
"No- no I won't." Annie's shoulders were shaking from how much she was sobbing. She gently traced Nat's face as though reassuring both omegas that things would turn out to be alright.
"Annie," Nat's face softened, her eyes growing teary. "You must- my little girl needs me up there." Annie continued to cry uncontrollably, prompting Nat to unsheath the small dagger Annie carried and bringing it up and plunging it into her abdomen.
Annie let out an agonizing cry of grief as she collapsed onto her sister's body, sobbing uncontrollably. Geralt felt his heart skip a beat at the girl's grief.
But just then, a chittering noise made his blood run cold as two kikimoras made their presence be known. The girl scrambled to her feet as they shattered the windows on either sides of them and crawled inside.
The girl took up the silver sword and was quick to lop off the head of one of the monsters before the second one pounced on her, grabbing a hold of her leg and bringing her down with a grunt.
Geralt dove into the fight, grabbing a hold of his stolen sword and successfully killing the kikimoras.
"There's more," the girl sniffed, scrambling to her feet. "An entire clan of them."
"Fuck," was all that the Witcher said before turning to face her, where he caught the most wonderful scent he had ever smalled- roses and honey with milkberries and cinnamon. He took another deep breath and realized where it was coming from.
"My omega," he growled from deep within his chest. "Did they hurt you?"
Annie was shaking with sobs to the point where she was unable to speak.
"I know who you are," she choked out. "You're the Butcher of Blaviken." She took a deep sniff and froze at Geralt's scent- surprising, he smelled like magnolia berries, fresh grass after it'd rain and tree bark.
"Alpha?" she asked him in a quiet voice before the same chittering noise was heard once more; Geralt was quick to push Annie-his omega – behind him as kikimoras invaded the front of the cottage.
"Go inside and lock yourself in." It wasn't a question, but an order, one which Annie was quick to obey. She had barely locked the door before an army of twenty kikimoras appeared in front of the Witcher. "Fuck."