Bound to the Chef (Knotted for Life #3)
Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
RHYLEE
Fuck.
Sliding down to the floor, I draw my knees up to my chest. My phone buzzes in my hand, but I ignore it. All I can see is the message in front of me, the words blurring as tears gather in my eyes.
I don’t need to be able to read it anymore since I’ve nearly memorized it by heart. The fucking Governing Body has deemed it’s my turn to walk down the aisle and marry a perfect stranger. Just great.
Placing my phone on the floor next to me, I bury my head in my hands. Thankfully, my break coincided with this little message; otherwise, I might have worked through my shift and missed it completely. What would the powers that be do then?
Would they hunt me down and drag me kicking and screaming from the restaurant? To think, being married in my work clothes and apron. That would certainly show my intended exactly what I think about all of this.
Closing my eyes, I listen to the sounds of clanking silverware and people bustling about doing their job. However, most of all, I listen for Jason—the head chef, my boss, my dominant, and most importantly, my master. What will he say when I tell him? Recrimination races through my veins like acid as tears soak into my apron.
We both knew this was a possibility, but we never discussed what would happen if that fateful day ever occurred. Ugh. It was stupid to get involved with an Alpha. I knew this; he knew this, and yet, I couldn’t resist his pull. As an omega, I should have known better and should have stayed far away from him.
At work, it’s unavoidable, a necessary evil, they say. I need to make money, and he needs a sous chef that can take orders. Besides, no one can fault me for having some odd infatuation with my boss as long as it stayed professional, right?
But it didn’t end there. Of course, it didn’t. Tragedies aren’t built on such mundane things as working for a hotter-than-hell chef that commands his kitchen better than some dominants command a willing submissive. Villains aren’t created merely because they worked with someone they thought they couldn’t have. Well, maybe for some. But for others, they can balance that need and want with what must be done.
What I should have done was stay in my own section of the kitchen, taking in his orders like the good little sous chef I was trained to be. What should have been done was not seek out the BDSM club, hoping some other dominant, beta preferably, could beat out the submissive urges I had towards my boss, leaving me sated enough to work and not succumb to his steely demeanor. What I should have done was walk right out when I saw him there, his half-naked body glistening in the dim lights as he flogged a beta.
Her cries pierced my soul, driving that longing up tenfold, twentyfold. And then, as if he knew I was there, could smell my desperation and wanting, he turned. The moment his eyes locked onto mine, I knew I would never be able to walk away again.
And yet, here I sit, a ball of misery while he barks out orders, commanding the other workers with an ease I’ve never seen before in an Alpha. My pussy spasms despite the agony threatening to tear me limb from limb. I have to tell him. He’ll need to know why I’m leaving in the middle of a shift.
To tell him, however, will make all of this far too real. The longer I sit back here, the longer I can pretend this is all a bad dream. Soon, I’ll wake up and realize this is a nightmare.
But nightmare or not, reality will soon come knocking. I was hoping I’d have several more years. Since I’m only twenty-two, there was still plenty of time to saddle me with some random Alpha and pop out his babies. Why can’t they let me live a little?
Again, my phone buzzes, drawing my teary gaze to the screen. Fuck. The Halloween party. In all of this, I completely forgot. My soft sobs begin anew as I picture the cute little his-and-hers vampire set we bought to wear tonight.
Master Jason kept hyping this party up, telling me it was going to be the best night of my life, and now I won’t even be able to go. What husband would want their wife getting her brains fucked out by another Alpha on their wedding night?
Whoever I marry will have to be understanding and realize I already have a life that doesn’t involve him. But there’s no way I’ll ever find an Alpha that’s willing to sit back and watch as another satisfies me. It goes against everything in their biology.
I stare at the screen, going back to the text. Only half an hour left before I need to be in place for dress fittings and accessories. Luckily for me, it’s not too far away, and traffic isn’t usually horrible at this time of day. I have some more time to mourn my fate and gather the courage to find Master Jason.
As I move to get up, his heavenly scent fills the small break room, stealing my breath. Even though we’ve been together for the last two years, it never ceases to fill me with hunger and longing. Turning my tear-stained face up to his, I note the pinched expression on his face.
“Love,” he murmurs, sliding close, enveloping me in his warm strength. “You know how I feel about you sulking off to cry alone. As your dominant, those tears are mine, just like every inch of you.”
“I wasn’t planning on crying, you big oaf,” I tease, giving him a half-hearted shove. “But I received a text-”
“Show me.” His voice is imposing but missing that Alpha command so many others use to get their way.
But then, Master Jason doesn’t need to. I obey him willingly and without hesitation. I always have, and I always will. Pulling my phone out from behind my back, I wait on bated breath as he skims it.
“I guess it’s official then,” he grumbles, his tone devoid of emotion. “We knew this day would come.” There’s a pain there, a hint of hurt, but I can tell he’s keeping it at bay for my sake, staying strong as only he can.
Throwing myself into Master Jason’s outstretched arms, I sob against him, allowing him to comfort me, cocooning me with both his body and the purr that rumbles through his chest. Just one touch, and I melt. No other Alpha will be able to soothe me this way. It’s impossible.
“It’s only six months,” he murmurs against my hair, his hot breath making my body tingle. “Six months and you’ll be back in my arms.”
“But will you even want me then? You know how Alphas are. If he wants to fuck me, I won’t be able to say no.”
There’s a tightness around his lips as he grinds his teeth. No doubt it’s anger at the idea of someone forcing me to do something I don’t want. “It doesn’t matter to me what happens in those six months. You’ll always be mine. Remember when I took you on as my submissive? I told you nothing and no one will ever separate us. Even if we have to go six months at a time while the government pairs us with other people, we will always come back to each other.”
“Yes,” I hiccup, “but that was when we both hoped it would never happen. But now it’s here and-”
“And,” he rests his finger against my lips. “We will get through it. You are mine, love. Mine to command, mine to control, and unfortunately, mine to order to leave and get ready for your wedding.”
“But-” This time, he spears me with that dark glare of his, the one that makes his stormy gray eyes turn molten.
“There are no buts here. I can’t see you if you’re in prison. You have to leave in order to keep yourself safe and out of the hands of the Governing Body. You may not pay attention to the news, but I do. Their reach is getting far more vast, and I don’t want you at the end of their machinations. So, you will do this. I’m ordering you, not as your boss or even as your lover. As your Master, you will go. Afterward, we will see what can be done.”
“Yes, Sir,” I cry out, my body shaking as I force myself to pull away. “Who knows? Maybe this man doesn’t want to marry either and is happy to live in a platonic relationship?”
He pauses for a moment, saying nothing, but his eyes say everything. There’s something he’s trying not to give voice to. I can feel it. But in an instant, it’s gone, replaced by his normal rigid demeanor.
“There’s no way in hell any man, Alpha or beta, can look at you and want to keep things platonic.” Leaning forward, he scoops me back into his arms, squeezing me tightly for just a moment.
However, it’s the soft kiss on the forehead that nearly makes me sob again. “You’ll make a beautiful bride, my precious Rhylee. I just know it. Now go on before I drag you into my office and refuse to let you leave.”
Forcing myself to move, I get my car keys and gather my meager belongings before heading out the door. No doubt the people getting me ready have seen the gamut of emotions from their brides before, but deep in my heart, I feel as if I’m the only one about to go in there and tear everything to bits. I can’t allow myself to feel these emotions, however.
It won’t reflect well on my Master. Above all, I must remember my place, even if I’m with someone else. What I do is a mirror of him and his values. He wouldn’t want me to cause a scene.
And so, with my heart the heaviest it’s ever been, I make my way to the wedding venue. Honestly, for the first time, I actually wish there was traffic. That way, I would have an excuse for foregoing all the fuss about me and this damned dress.
I don’t care if they outfit me in a paper bag or a potato sack. This marriage is a sham and shouldn’t have the same finery or frippery of a real wedding. Though it may be binding in the eyes of the law, it holds no merit in my heart.
* * *
The gown is lovely. I have to at least admit that much. Running my fingers down the supple fabric, I look at myself in the mirror, demanding my tears to stay at bay. If I’m going to ruin my makeup, I want the groom at least to bear witness, to know just how much this marriage is killing me.
Women bustle about behind me, but I pay them no mind. Their bright smiles and cheery air about them do nothing to assuage the misery threading through my veins. Glancing over at the jewelry, I make my final decision, no longer able to drag things out.
Opting for a simple pair of pearl earrings and a silver chain ending in one large orb, I give myself a last look over before turning to the door. The workers beam at me, gushing about how beautiful I am and what a terrific bride I will make. I want to slap them, all of them.
There’s no way their emotions or words are real. Perhaps it’s some new, infuriating bit of technology that’s so lifelike, no one can tell the difference. I’d like to think normal human people would see just how wrong this all was and not be happy and cheerful. Clenching my fingers at my side, I resist the urge to pinch one of them to see if it’s skin or some synthetic substitute covering a metal frame.
They know nothing. They understand nothing. It’s as if the Governing Body made clones of people to walk about acting as if all of this was okay. In some ways, I wish it was some advanced technology. Maybe then they’d be able to find a better way of ensuring better birth rates than pairing up the most genetically optimal people they can find.
As it is, we’re still forced to do this dog and pony show, somehow making better Alphas and omegas to rise above the wreckage the virus wrought upon us. What’s to say some new variant won’t come through and turn us all back to normal? If a virus can create Alphas and omegas, can’t it turn all of us back to betas?
Maybe instead of forcing marriages, the Governing Body should put more work into equalizing the dynamics. Honestly, it would be a much better use of everyone’s time. Then again, if I’m being one hundred percent truthful, I love the dynamic shift between Master Jason and me.
Would the sex and dominance be just as good if we were both betas? I’d like to think so, but practically speaking, his knot drives me absolutely wild. I’d definitely miss that if the Governing Body were to somehow turn us all back to normal.
I’m mentally stalling. I know I am. I’m finding any and everything else to think about to avoid contemplating my future. I know what Master Jason said, and I know he won’t think less of me if this groom and I have sex. But I’ll think less of me.
It will feel like I gave up and didn’t even try to resist. Inside, I know it would eat me alive. No matter what, after we say, “I do,” everything will change. I just know it.
Gripping the flowers the pod person hands to me, I take in a deep breath and fill my thoughts with Master Jason. I can get through this if he’s in my mind. The first tear threatens to fall.
At my side, the women smile and shake their heads, their expressions almost saccharine, as if they think it’s sweet I’m tearing up. “You’re a beautiful bride,” one of them says as she holds the door open.
It mirrors what Master Jason said to me, and I almost lose it. Breathing deeply, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other. My vision blurs as I make my way through the long corridors, pausing as I get to the corner.
Soft piano music fills the air, swelling as I hover at that first step. I can do it. I have to do this. One foot in front of the other. That’s all I have to do.
I take a step and a breath. Peeking around, I look at the Alpha standing at the front, his back turned to me. His shoulders are so broad, so familiar. Is there a chance I know this Alpha? Would that make it worse or better?
Next step. The music gets louder as if each movement forward hastens its crescendo. An odd itch invades my body as I long to rip the dress from me and flee. It’s not my heat. This is terror, pure and simple.
The next steps are like agony as I force myself to move. But then, everything shifts. A familiar smell tingles my nose, giving me more hope than I have any right to have. Despite the officiant motioning me forward, I stop several feet away, unable to move any further.
I need to know who this scent belongs to because there’s no way I’d ever get this lucky. The man smells like Master Jason, but it can’t be. My breath hitches in my chest as he turns, ever so slowly, to face me.
A strangled cry flies from my lips as I sink to my knees. All the emotions I’ve been bottling up surge out of me as tears stream down my face. There, at the altar, is Master Jason.
Relieved sobs wrack my body as he comes down the short set of stairs to wrap his arms around me. Up at the podium, the officiant looks shocked, his eyes bugging out as he watches the display. But I don’t care. I have Master Jason, and that’s all I care about.