Chapter 2 #2
“Please follow instructions and return to your seats,” the guard on the left said firmly. “Product isn’t sanctioned to be removed from the stage until the auction as a whole has completed.”
“I want to speak to the person in charge.” Talking to these underlings would get him nowhere.
“I’m afraid—”
“Of course,” a female voice interrupted a moment before a woman appeared at the end of the hallway. She approached with confidence, the guards quickly stepping aside and bowing deeply.
The scent of an alpha alerted him to her proclivity, but as a dominant of his species, Oberon didn’t need to give things like that a second thought.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” she held out a delicate hand with long, blood-red nails, “I’m Michelle Ophelia.”
“The Mistress of the Wardrobe.” Oberon dutifully took her hand and planted a chaste kiss on her knuckles.
Tensions between her company and the White Frost were high.
It was best to keep up the charade of friendliness.
“Your reputation precedes you, but I must say, talk of your beauty pales in comparison to the real thing.”
“You flatter me, Mr. King.”
“Ah, you know my secret identity.”
“Not much of a secret,” she laughed demurely, but it was such a clear act that it was hard for O not to roll his eyes.
“I believe you were on the cover of Alpha Q magazine. This month's issue was released this morning. The entire city is buzzing about you. I’d be surprised if there was a person on the entire planet who hasn’t already seen it. ”
“Does that include the omega I just purchased?”
A flicker of something crossed through her brown eyes, gone in a flash.
“To be clear, what you bid on was a single heat, Mr. King. But you caught me. Product is carefully watched over, and Fenrir is no different. Even if he were allowed out in the world unattended, his idea of light reading doesn’t include entertainment publications. ”
“Alpha Q is a business magazine,” Oberon corrected, careful to keep his tone airy. “But point taken. What sorts of things does he read then?”
She chuckled. “Why so curious? Surely you don’t intend to read with him before bedding him? You’re a busy man. I don’t imagine you’d waste time on a sure thing.”
“No,” he agreed, “which is why I’m here. Something has come up in my schedule and I’d like to take my winnings early. Your men here seem to think that’s not possible. I’m hoping you’ll have a more favorable answer for me.”
The Wardrobe had power. They’d somehow escaped the same prosecution that the rest of the illegally run organizations had when the Imperial Prince had culled the planet.
The fact that they were far from the capital, where the prince resided and aimed his earlier attention, coupled with not being the most noteworthy company responsible for said trials, had most likely worked in her favor.
But the clock was ticking.
Sooner or later, the prince would come knocking. Or worse. She’d wake to find Kian Erksine, the Dominus of the Eumia mafia, standing on her doorstep.
Unlike Kian and the prince, the White Frost hadn’t let the Wardrobe out of their sights.
They’d gathered enough intel to know that the company was actually the first to achieve success in their trial runs.
Though they’d sold versions of Rebirth to their competitors, they’d held onto formulas.
It was also clear that they’d obtained their test subjects in questionable manners, and no one with half a brain cell bought for even a second that those poor souls had joined the research voluntarily.
He wondered how many of the products on stage were altered. Was Fenrir the only one? If so, why’d she lump him in with the rest? Synthetic omegas and alphas were prized by some dark organizations. Surely she could have sold him to an underground club for close to what Oberon had just paid.
Since she’d had no reason to believe prior that Fenrir’s single heat would fetch such a large sum…something wasn’t adding up.
While his file had been made readily available to Oberon, that was only because he’d been in a VIP booth and had the foresight to request it. It felt too much like she’d been trying to hide Fenrir’s situation.
O’s curiosity grew to insurmountable levels.
“If something has come up, you can always retrieve him at a later date,” Michelle suggested. “The contract makes that clear. His heat—”
“It’s Heated Hearts Day,” he reminded. “The point is to celebrate by spending it in the bed of an omega. Doing so any other time kind of defeats the purpose of my purchase.”
“Then if you could just be patient and wait with—”
“It’s starting to seem like you don’t want me taking him,” Oberon cut her off, and though he’d merely been reaching, the second his words caused her to stiffen, he felt like he’d accidentally stumbled onto something.
Interesting.
A hypothesis started to form, and he surprisingly wasn’t fond of it.
“Don’t tell me the Mistress of the Wardrobe placed her own omega in the auction?” His gaze pointedly swept across her face. “I’ve read his file. He’s unmarked. I’ve also heard rumor that your preferences aim in a more female direction. Is that incorrect?”
There was one male said to have managed to sway her, but Oberon didn’t bother bringing that up. Not when this was merely a tactic to force her hand.
He couldn’t give a shit less who she wanted to sleep with, so long as she understood Fenrir was currently off the table.
“You’re reading too far into things,” she reassured him. “I’m simply trying to run a business here, Mr. King. You better than most understand the importance of keeping a structured house.”
“I understand it’s better to bend a few rules than risk pissing off a valuable customer.
” Unfortunately for her, this conversation had unlocked far too many questions for him to play nice and simply walk away like originally planned.
“Eleven million coin is no small number, and your reaction here has caused some alarm. I’m going to have to insist I test out the product before the official exchange is made. ”
Her brow furrowed. “That’s unheard of, Mr. King. I can’t in good conscience allow you to touch one of our products without the safety of a contract in place.”
“I’m going to have to insist.”
“Then I’ll ask you to forgive me when I deny your bid and announce the next highest bidder as the winner.”
“That,” Oberon slid his hands into his pockets and took a deliberate step closer, his pheromones flicking around them threateningly, “would be unwise.”
Her nostrils flared and her cheeks flushed, but she held her ground. “I’m a prime alpha, same as you.”
“You’re Glyphian?” On their neighboring planet, that’s what dominant alphas were called.
Glyph and Synastry were both homes to alphas and omegas, though the first also had a third proclivity, known as beta. They also had stricter laws and more failsafes in place to protect their citizens from sexual assault. Her line of work was definitely better conducted here than there.
“I relocated at a young age,” she corrected. “I consider myself a Syn.”
“Synastry has certainly been good to you.” He clucked his tongue. “But whether or not we’re both dominant alphas is obsolete.” Though it did help explain why she might have been let off the hook after all of the crimes she’d committed.
Dominant alphas and omegas were rare, with better chances of procreation. For a planet at risk of dying off within the next hundred or so years, her presentation would have to be taken into consideration.
“Are you using your connections with the mafia to threaten me, Mr. King?”
“And if I am?”
“Seems like a lot of trouble for one heat.”
“Funny, that’s what I should be saying to you, is it not?” Oberon gave her a pointed stare. “How about a compromise? I won’t touch the product without permission, but you give the green light for me to test him.”
“How exactly do you intend to do that without getting physical with him?” she asked suspiciously.
“That’s for me to figure out. Do you agree, or not?
” He had her cornered and they both knew it.
If he really did choose to get the White Frost involved, everything she’d built would be destroyed in a matter of days.
Reputation was everything on this planet, and with one word, he could completely obliterate the Wardrobe’s.
Their two forces had been toeing the line, but as of yet, no one had crossed it. As high up the ladder as he was, it wasn’t really Oberon’s decision to make, and he didn’t want to risk spoiling Levi’s plans by jumping the gun and making a bold move against Michelle.
However…
For the chance to get his hands on a product like Fenrir?
He’d do it.
“Of course.” She nodded her head curtly and then turned to the same guard who’d tried to stop him moments ago. “Go downstairs and tell them to prepare Fenrir for tradeoff.”
“Bring him here,” Oberon suggested. “I’m sure you have an empty room we can borrow.”
Her mouth thinned but she nodded again.
“I want him bound and blindfolded,” he added.
“Arms and legs?” she asked, more tersely than before.
“Just his wrists will suffice.”
“Gagged as well?”
“No.” O wanted to hear the omega’s voice. He wanted to know if Fenrir would protest even half as much as his mistress currently was.
He didn’t like the flash of possessiveness that swept through him, but he welcomed it nonetheless. It’d been a long time since he’d fought against his own wants and desires, having learned it was best to embrace them. Fighting losing battles was a waste of energy, after all.
“Please,” Michelle took a step to the side and motioned with her arm down the hallway she’d come from, “if you’ll follow me, we can get the paperwork started, that way once you’re satisfied with the product, all that will be left is payment and signing the contract.
Fenrir will be brought to the room adjacent for when you’re ready. ”
He allowed her to lead them, letting her get a few paces ahead to give his secretary the opportunity to voice whatever was on his mind.
“What?” Oberon demanded.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this interested in anything, sir.” Clearly, his secretary wasn’t buying that he’d suddenly felt the need to test the omega out. He’d been with Oberon long enough to have guessed it’d merely been a way to piss the mistress off some more.
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“Claudio.”
“Should I prepare anything special?”
Oberon considered his options. “Is White Heat still happening?”
Levi was many things. But creative wasn’t one of them. The parties he threw for the mafia all had some version of their name in it. The White Heat was his version of a Heated Hearts celebration.
“Yes, sir. I believe that was the purpose of the Leviathan’s call earlier.”
“Book me a room.”
“Of course.”
Every year, Levi held the massive party at Evergreen, a multipurpose establishment he owned. The rooms there were lavish and cost a small fortune, but were worth every penny. The type of place Oberon doubted, even with Michelle’s favor, Fenrir had ever had the fortune of experiencing.
Ideally, he’d regale the alpha-turned-omega, get him to let his guard down, and lure some answers about his relationship with his mistress out of him. There were plenty of ways he could entice Fenrir.
Oberon King had grown up with everything.
What would it be like to fuck a person who’d been forced to live with nothing?