Chapter 4 Erik
Prime matches might be mandatory but that doesn’t mean I am going to get myself chained to some two-bit hustler. The first thing the asshole says to me is, “Let’s talk,” like this is some kind of negotiation.
I stop just inside the doorway of the Bureau’s introduction room, taking in the scene.
Nolan West is already seated on one of the low sofas, looking entirely too comfortable with a shit eating grin on his face.
He’s wearing jeans and a leather jacket that’s seen better days, and he doesn’t even bother to stand when I enter.
The room itself is designed to be calming. Soft lighting, neutral colors, comfortable furniture arranged to encourage intimacy. There are even bean bags in the corner which look ridiculous.
Then Nolan’s scent hits me.
It’s like walking into a wall. Sweet and sharp at the same time, something like coffee and warm skin. My vision actually blurs for a second. My chest tightens and every muscle in my body goes taut.
Mate, something deep inside me growls. Mine.
No. Absolutely not.
I force myself to take a breath, then immediately regret it because that just pulls more of his scent into my lungs. He smells like nothing I’ve ever encountered. I have to fight the urge to leap across the room and bury my face between his thighs.
It’s infuriating.
West’s eyes have gone wide. His pupils are dilated, nearly swallowing the green, and I can see his chest rising and falling too quickly. His fingers have gone white-knuckled on the arm of the sofa. So he feels it too. Good. At least I’m not suffering alone.
“Mr. Nilsson.” David Sun rises from his chair near the window, hand extended. He’s a slight man, beta by his neutral scent. I’ve never met him in person although I’ve told him off by phone often enough. “Thank you for coming.”
I shake his hand automatically, still trying to get my bearings. The scent is everywhere. It’s in my throat, my chest, settling into my bones. I want to cross the room and bury my face in Nolan’s neck and breathe him in until I can’t smell anything else.
I want to throw him against the nearest wall and mark him so thoroughly that everyone who sees him will know exactly who he belongs to.
No. Focus. This is exactly what he wants. This is the con.
“Mr. West,” Sun says. “This is Erik Nilsson. Erik, this is Nolan West. You’ve been matched by the Prime system, which means—”
“I know what it means.” I say, and my voice comes out rougher than I intended. Lower. More alpha than I usually allow myself to be in professional settings.
Sun mumbles something and flees the room like the pointless bureaucrat that he is.
I stare at the omega who thinks he’s going to marry me. “Let’s get this over with.”
West’s jaw tightens. He still hasn’t stood, which I find disrespectful. An omega meeting their potential alpha for the first time should show at least basic courtesy. But then, what did I expect?
I remain standing, using every inch of my height to establish dominance. “My legal team is currently at the courthouse filing an injunction against this match. My head of legal, is handling it personally. Once that’s processed, this whole farce will be over.”
West laughs. It’s a short, bitter sound that shouldn’t make heat pool in my stomach. “Of course you are. God forbid you actually have to deal with the consequences of your own company’s actions.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He finally stands, and I realize he’s shorter than I expected.
Not by much, but enough that he has to tilt his chin up to meet my eyes.
The movement exposes the line of his throat, the vulnerable hollow at the base where his pulse is visibly hammering.
I can see the moment he realizes what he’s done, the way his shoulders tense, but he doesn’t back down.
I have to look away before I do something stupid. Before I close the distance between us and put my mouth right there, right where I can feel his heartbeat against my lips.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing,” I say through gritted teeth, “but it won’t work. I don’t know how you arranged this match, but I’m not going to be manipulated by some omega with an axe to grind.”
“Arranged the match?” Nolan takes a step toward me, and his scent intensifies.
Anger, I realize. That sharp note cutting through the sweetness is anger.
It shouldn’t smell as good as it does. It shouldn’t make me want to push him until he’s furious, just to see how bright he can burn.
“Are you serious right now? You think I wanted this?”
“I think you saw an opportunity and you took it. Just like last time.”
“Last time, I tried to get justice for research that was stolen from me. By your company. With your name on the paperwork. With your signature authorizing the acquisition.”
“Research that was legally acquired from its rightful owner.”
“Alistair was not the rightful owner!” West’s voice rises.
His cheeks are flushed, his eyes bright with fury, and there’s something almost feral in the way he’s holding himself.
Like he wants to hit me. Like he’s barely restraining himself from launching across the space between us and doing violence.
I reassess my opinion of him. He’s not just a fraudster.
He’s dangerous. He has a temper, possibly violent tendencies.
I should find that threatening. Instead, some dark part of me wants to see him try.
“If your claims were legitimate—”
“They were legitimate. Every single one. I have the original data. I have the research logs. I have years of work that prove that project was mine.”
There’s real pain in his voice. Real grief. For a moment, I almost believe him.
Then I remember who I’m dealing with. Charm and sob stories are the way this kind of person works.
“If you had legitimate evidence, you should have presented it properly. Everything else is just the fantasy of a bitter omega who couldn’t accept that his alpha moved on.”
West goes very still. Something shifts in his expression, the anger crystallizing into something colder. More dangerous.
“His alpha,” he repeats softly. “Right. Because that’s what I was. His property.”
I open my mouth to respond, but my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see Sara’s name flashing on the screen.
“One moment.” I turn away, grateful for the interruption. For the excuse to create some distance from Nolan’s overwhelming presence. “Sara. Tell me you have good news.”
Her voice is clipped, professional, but I can hear the frustration underneath.
“The injunction was denied. Judge Miller ruled that since the blood tests were processed through standard protocols and the compatibility percentage is verified at ninety-eight percent, there’s no legal basis to challenge the match. ”
“That’s ridiculous. They can’t have investigated this quickly. None of that means he didn’t find some way to manipulate the results.”
“I know that and you know that, but the Bureau’s position is that their system doesn’t lie. The chemistry is either there or it isn’t, and apparently...” She pauses. “How’s the meeting going?”
I glance back at West, who’s watching me with his arms crossed over his chest. Even angry, he’s stunning. I can see how he is good at his trade. Beautiful people always have a charm advantage.
“Fine,” I grit out. “Just find another angle.”
“I’m already working on it. But Erik... you might need to actually engage with this process. At least for now. Make it look like you’re trying. The Bureau has a lot of power, and if they decide you’re acting in bad faith—”
“I’ll call you back.” I hang up and turn to face West again. My jaw aches from clenching it.
“Let me guess,” he says flatly. “Your fancy lawyers lost. It’s a shame they couldn’t be that incompetent last time.”
“The injunction was denied. Temporarily.” I straighten my jacket, trying to regain some composure. “All that means is that your fraud hasn’t been proven yet. It doesn’t mean the match is real.”
Even as I say it, I can feel how hollow the words are. The pull toward West is a physical force like gravity. Like magnetism. I want to touch him. I want to breathe him in. I want to take him apart piece by piece and find out what makes him tick, what makes him fight and what makes him moan.
I want to leave this room and never come back.
A timid knock on the door stops us both in our tracks. Sun pokes his head round. “How are you two doing? Do you have any questions?”
I’m guessing he got the same news from the courthouse that I just did. He can shove that polite subservient attitude. Not when he’s making everything more difficult than it has to be.
“Can we get on with this?” West turns to Sun, dismissing me entirely. The disrespect of it sends a hot flare of something through my chest. “What are the minimum requirements? What do I have to do to satisfy the Bureau?”
Sun clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the tension crackling between us.
“Well, the Bureau’s position is that prime matches deserve a genuine attempt at compatibility.
Given the exceptional percentage of your match—ninety-eight percent is quite rare, gentlemen—we typically recommend a two-week cohabitation period to—”
“Forced cohabitation is no longer legal.” West’s voice is sharp enough to cut glass. “I read the news.”
“No one is going to force you,” Sun says carefully, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “You are encouraged. As you know, failure to make a good-faith effort can result in—”
“Of course it’s force.” West throws up his hands, pacing across the small room like a caged animal. “I don’t want to marry him. Hell, he clearly doesn’t want to marry me either.” He gestures at me with barely concealed contempt. “I guess we have that in common at least.”
I should be annoyed by his outburst. An omega speaking this way, in front of his matched alpha, is completely inappropriate.