Mated and Alone (True Match)

Chapter 9

Misty

“I know the fuck he did not just summon me like I’m a damn dog!”

Pacing up and down her room, flames near shooting out of her mouth with each harshly spat word, Misty snarled her anger at the audacity of this man. Male. Thing !

Who the hell did he think he was?!

Honestly, Misty had almost forgotten she was mated at all. She was having such a great time in her new mansion, not a bill to be paid, running her business that was set to make a steady profit at the rate she was going, making new friends from her clients and other hair dressers that had come around to ask about her braiding techniques. Although their hands couldn’t replicate the ones she made perfectly, she was never going to tell them not to try or discourage them from putting their own spin on it. In return, they taught her techniques and tricks not taught in the basic grooming lessons.

Her life was going great, as it happened.

And now this.

The message popped up on her combot this afternoon, as she was lounging about at her leisure, sipping on something sweet and alcoholic - it wasn’t wine; it was something synthetic, apparently, but she didn't care because it was delicious, and she was promised it wasn’t bad for her. Though it was a synthetic concoction, it was a body neutral one. She could drink it, and it would make her pleasantly buzzed but not drunk, and it was practically calorie free.

Give her the diet friendly not-wine all day!

But chilling, watching The General terrorize his new toys, had been rudely interrupted when she got her very first message from her mate. Didn't say hello, hi, how are you, are you settling in okay? No, his very first message was, ‘ We have a charity party to attend in five days. Davard will see that you are properly fitted for it. I’ll pick you up in the evening ’.

That’s it. Didn't ask her if she wanted to go. Didn't ask if she had the free time. He just stated that they were going somewhere, and she should be ready.

“The nerve of him,” she hissed, ceasing her pacing to cross her arms, glaring at the wall as The General ignored her, more focused on his opps than hers.

The worst part was, she knew she had to do what he said.

Misty was enjoying a good life right now. She had a sugar daddy on a diet, a great and fulfilling career that was earning her accolades, and a big ass house she could decorate however she wanted without having to pay a single cred to stay in.

And it was because of him. It was because of the allowance he gave her. Her business was doing well, but it wasn’t yet at the point that she was rolling in profit. Nor was she at a point that she could cut the cord and drift out on her own.

If he summoned her, she had no real choice but to come to heel. Which stuck right in her craw and made her teeth grind. If he demanded sex, she had cause to tell him to fuck off. There was no way she was giving that to him. However, even at the beginning, he said he’d give her three days notice before an official function, and there was no real reason to turn him down for an official function.

It was just maddening that she had to be at his beck and call. Even for something like this. If they were actually, properly dating, she wouldn’t think twice about it. If her boyfriend said, hey, I have a work thing and we have to go dressed up, she’d ask if she needed to take out her piercings. She was down to support her man; always had in the past, always would in the future.

But Tsok was her mate in name only. She never saw him. She never spoke to him. Hell, there were times she’d go a full tenday without even thinking of him!

And now this.

“Think I could get away with being a pain in the ass?” She asked The General.

Her cat blinked at her before suddenly jumping to his feet, eyes going crazy, tail poofing up. Without warning, he tore across the room, his little claws digging at the rug.

“Yeah, he probably would go psycho,” she sighed, dropping her arms. “It’s the only thing he’s asked of me in return for all this. It’s not that bad of a trade. I’m just irritated. It’s like he thinks I’m just going to jump because he said so.”

The General ran back, coming to as sudden of a halt as he had a launch. He whipped his head around, like he was spotting demons coming at him from all angles, before suddenly pouncing on his toy. He began viciously bunny kicking it, completely absorbed in his great battle.

“You’re right,” Misty grinned. “It’s a chore like any other. Just got to grit our teeth and bear it.”

The General made a deep, growling sound as he tossed away his toy with a particularly vicious kick.

Misty frowned. “What did he mean by Davard will make sure I’m properly fitted?”

She found out what that meant the next morning. Davard didn't check on her every day, but she did see him once a tenday or so. She had his patch number to send him a message via her own combot if she needed anything – which she had only done a couple times.

But as she was leaving her room, dressed and ready for a day at work, he intercepted her.

And what he had to say pissed her off more than Tsok’s summons.

“I’ve moved all your appointments for today. They’re being spread out over the next few days.”

Misty felt her eye twitching. “You moved my appointments today? Why?”

“We have to get you fitted for a proper gown. We also need to buy you some adornments appropriate for the occasion. I also scheduled a beauty treatment for you at an alien friendly spa in the city. They are capable of taking care of fleshy species like yourself.”

It took her a second to gather herself to calmly ask, “And you didn't think to ask me before doing any of this?”

He blinked at her, and she realized he absolutely did not. He had been given his marching orders by Tsok, and he was going to fall in line. Something that was confirmed when he said-

“His honor, Char Tsok, has informed you that you have a party in four days, did he not?”

Misty let out a long breath, rubbing your temples. “You know what, I do believe he mentioned it. Easy to forget considering how often we talk. Just kind of got lost in the conversation, you know?”

“I’m glad you remember then,” Davard beamed, not at all picking up on her sarcasm. “We can go now, or you have more than enough time to get some more sleep if you desire. The tailor will wait for you.”

That was a hell of a statement. It brought Misty out of her annoyance just by sheer power. She had an appointment that would wait on her? She knew that Char Tsok was considered a rich and powerful male, but she didn't think she realized how much until that moment.

She was not only getting a special dress for a charity function – which was already rich people shit – but she was getting it tailored for her. And the appointment she had with said tailor would wait on her . That was a subtle show of power, but it was all the more powerful because of it.

People waited on Tsok, and because she was his charina, that meant they waited on her. Just by sheer virtue of proximity, she was someone who would be waited on.

“Screw it,” she sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she was now dancing to someone else’s beat. At least until the end of the party. Do it for the allowance. “I’m already up. Let’s get going.”

“Wonderful. Right this way, the hover is waiting.”

Misty had been here, on Kree, for quite a while now. Months, if she did the math right. She was easily switching to thinking about time in increments of marks and tendays now. But she had spent most of that time getting herself settled in the manor and with her business. She saw the city, and while part of her wanted to explore the white and glittery sci-fi utopia beyond Tsok’s land, another part of her wasn’t willing to go somewhere she didn't know yet. She had more than enough to explore on her little piece of land – for the moment anyway. And her business kept most of her attention, so there was no real need to go exploring.

She had been doing herself a disservice. The city was incredible! All the streets were full of people, not cars, because the hovers could just fly right over their heads. There was a wonderful mix of modern, urban sprawl combined with vibrant plant life. The plants on Kree tended towards the dusky blue range of colors. Some were brighter, some were darker, but that was the medium point. And the result was a beautiful, cool toned city that honestly had more of an ocean vibe, despite the fact that they were nowhere near a body of water.

But maybe that was just her Earth centric way of thinking. The oceans here were white and gray - she knew that from vids and pics she’d seen since arriving. If their plant life was blue, they wouldn’t really associate the color with water like she did.

Though she was irritated about her day being hijacked, all in all, it wasn’t actually a bad day. The tailoring experience was like getting fitted for a wedding dress. Complete with not-wine, sales ladies tittering over how pretty she was, and picking styles and colors and embroidery patterns like a celebrity, lounging on a settee with finger foods at her side. There was no way she wasn’t going to enjoy that experience.

Especially when it came time to pick her jewelry. She thought her facial piercings would be a problem – they would be at a fancy party on Earth. But the sales ladies who were bringing her jewelry – literally on velvet trays like she was a damn queen – looked shocked when she suggested having to remove her piercings.

That was when they pointed out something that, honestly, she should have already realized. The kreechmara loved jewelry. They decked themselves out in as much as possible, sometimes past the point of even being cute anymore. They had their own piercing culture, and it wasn’t considered alternative. It was mainstream. And because it was mainstream, there were tons of subcultures around styles of piercings. Every jewelry shop would have piercing jewelry right alongside necklaces and bracelets. Misty had more options than every before.

She wasn’t alternative here. She was fashionable . Trendy. Classically beautiful, even.

She did have to get small sized piercings, because she was smaller than every kreecharma that wasn’t an adolescent. But that didn't bother her. In fact, it was kind of a stroke to the ego to be able to say she was small or medium in everything. This planet was awesome in so many ways.

By the time she got to the spa, she wasn’t even salty anymore.

And by the time she left the spa, she was feeling outright sweet. She was still mad at her neglectful mate, but if she thought of him as a sugar daddy, she wasn’t so bothered anymore. Because there were no feelings involved with a sugar daddy. And since he was a daddy on diet, she didn't even have to give up her sweetness, which was a great deal, when she really thought about it.

She was feeling so good, she was even able to hold a calm conversation with Davard when she told him not to move or cancel any patient appointments without her permission in the future.

The next few days, she had another appointment each day for something – hair, nails, etc – to get her ready for the party, but Davard no longer cleared her schedule for it. They just did everything in the afternoon after she was done with work.

The day of the party, she agreed to have her schedule moved again so that she could sleep in and go through the long process to get herself ready. Davard offered to have people sent that would do it for her, but she denied the offer.

While she got to see that they knew how to do her hair at the salon she went to for a hair treatment the other day, she still wanted to do it in her own style.

Tsok might be dragging her to this thing, but she was going her way.

She was already fully dressed, ready and waiting, when Davard sent her the message that Tsok was waiting for her in the entrance hall. And it irritated her because Tsok hadn’t sent her the message himself. This guy really was doing the most to make sure they never crossed paths.

She gave herself a few extra minutes to calm down. She was even going to be generous. Maybe she was reading Tsok wrong. Maybe he just had no idea what he was doing. Maybe social situations were a nightmare for him. Maybe he really was so busy that months had passed since she came here and he just didn't notice.

And maybe that was a stretch, but she was trying to be nice. To talk herself into treating him sweetly – artificial sweetness, because he was a sugarless sugar daddy.

“Wish me luck in battle, General,” she said, looking at her cat. He blinked at her from his place on the sofa before uncurling from his circle, stretching his paw out while twisting on his back. “You’re lucky this robe is white, or I would be giving you so many kisses right now. Prepare yourself to be molested when I get back.”

He just blinked at her as she turned, ready to meet her mate for the first time in months. And not at all looking forward to it.