SALT
Late in the morning, Storm approaches my booth with a young alpha.
At first, I do not think much of it. Sure, I glance at him, because he is seriously hot.
The guy looks like he could be a model, and his body is even better, downright mouthwatering.
Hard muscle lines are visible beneath his simple T-shirt.
Is he some kind of security recruit?
After the recent bombing incident on Fate’s Choice grounds, they must have hired an army of guards to make visitors feel safe. He is probably just another one of them.
I do sneak a look once or twice, but he’s still an alpha, duh.
While Storm talks to Mr. Gessler, the handsome stud keeps standing next to my booth, which is strange.
I am a decent judge of people, and it slowly dawns on me that something is off. He does not look like someone applying for a security job.
Storm and the alpha exchange a few more words.
Then suddenly, the whole group heads toward my booth. The door opens, and they all step inside.
What follows is completely unbelievable. Storm claims the guy is my True Mate, which is absurd and pure fantasy.
I might believe that a purple alpha could somehow scent potential compatibility between an alpha and an omega, but I am a beta with no Allure scent! There is absolutely no way to sense something like that with me.
Still, Storm presents one convincing argument. My contract could be bought by someone far worse than this kid. And I have to remember that my plan has nothing to do with a serious pursuit of a husband. I should not be picky.
I need to take it and get out of this place as fast as possible, wherever he takes me, then escape, and go hunt down the bastard, Daniel Tanner.
My contract husband will be just a means to an end, nothing more, and I refuse to let myself get distracted by his looks or anything else about him.
Besides, I doubt the guy believes Storm’s fairy tale about our supposed fated status. I don’t care how the purple compelled him to come here. For sure, I’m not losing sight of my goal.
Still, I have to admit, the kid’s easy on the eyes, distracting enough that it throws me off while we’re talking.
I steal a few subtle glances when he’s not looking, peeking at him from under my lashes.
His muscular arms show beneath his T-shirt, veins standing out nicely, crossed by thin scars.
No tattoos, surprisingly. A clean slate. Plenty of room for imagination!
Also, he has that Italian look. After one muttered sentence that sounds like Italian, I figure that’s where his roots are.
His hair is neatly cut, black with a hint of violet sheen.
His facial features are young, handsome, maybe a little too handsome(probably a player!), and his eyes are golden, framed by thick, dark lashes.
His lips are fuller than mine, soft-looking, sensual. Yeah, he’s definitely eye candy.
But it doesn’t matter. Obviously!
That kind of temptation isn’t for me, not in the long run.
For some reason, while the conversation is going on, my mind drifts back to that vision I had right after I killed Senu’s murderers, when I wanted to end everything.
A young alpha in a cage, his back covered in bleeding wounds, dark curls falling over his face.
I feel a small stab of regret that it isn’t this guy. Who knows, if it had been that one, maybe I would have believed he was my fated mate? Because honestly, only some hidden energetic bond between us could have triggered a vision like that.
Oh well. You don’t get everything you want. This is what it is.
There is a moment when I manage to provoke him.
Not much of an achievement. Young alphas are highly reactive hormone-bombs, hotheads, easy to set off.
When he steps closer, I even feel a certain hardness stir low in my body, but I brush it aside immediately.
It means nothing, right? Everyone knows the bodies of young, fertile alphas emit strong pheromonal signals that can affect even betas to some extent.
I should not fixate on it, it’s pointless.
After I give my consent to become his contract husband, I feel strange, almost dazed, and I’m quite happy that I can stay in the booth while they leave.
But what comes next is strange, to say the least.
Half an hour passes, then an hour, and nothing happens!
I catch myself feeling stupidly keyed up, waiting for them to come back for me, for the moment I’ll finally be able to leave this damn place with my new ‘husband’.
I keep staring at the distant square of the entrance doors, watching a steady stream of visitors pour in, but… the ones I’m waiting for aren’t there.
What the hell is going on?
Finally, Storm returns, but only with my case handler, the unpleasant dick Gessler. The alpha isn’t with them.
Storm looks grim. The handler looks pleased.
"Don't tell me he backed out," I say the moment they enter.
Storm's face turns almost apologetic as he says,
"Unfortunately, yes." Seeing me gape, he quickly adds, "At least for now.
He has… doubts." He says it very carefully, which only makes me more on edge.
"In his case, relying solely on Second Chance wouldn’t be possible due to housing and financial issues.
You would both have to be enrolled in the Beta Activation program as well.
That would mean additional complications. "
I freeze. I didn't expect that.
"I don't get it. Doesn't he have an apartment or something?"
"His life situation is complicated," Storm mutters. "The only option would be for both of you to enter Beta Activation. Unfortunately, the candidate has serious reservations and needs time to think it over."
Damn. I realize I feel a strange mix of disappointment and anger.
What an idiot!
Why did he even come here, then? Was Storm’s charm enough to talk him into taking a look at me… but nothing beyond?
So it was me, it had to be. I was the fucking problem. To hell with that jerk!
I slump back into my chair.
"What a waste of time. He's probably an asshole anyway. Good riddance," I snap irritably.
But I would be lying if I said something inside me didn't react, a sharp, unpleasant twist in my gut.
His face flashes in front of my mind. So young, so beautiful. His eyes were light gold threaded with thin copper lines through the irises. Yeah, I noticed that too.
And the moment he scented my neck… I need to take a deeper breath before I can look at Storm again.
"Well, for now, we're back to square one," Storm says grimly. "It's still early. We don't lose hope. Someone else might show up."
With my gut twisted, I don't reply. I refuse to engage. And I certainly don't want them to sense that I cared in any way about this contract going through, because really, I didn’t! Not with him specifically. Right?
Right?!
I just want any contract to materialize. My plan is always there in the back of my mind, and it can't take off if no one shows up.
Storm and Mr. Gessler leave the hall. Gessler, however, returns fairly quickly and sits back down in his chair next to the officer, and they resume chatting.
An hour passes and Gessler leaves again, then a second hour lapses, then a third. No one shows up in this section. Maybe two or three times a lone omega walks by, glances at me, raises an eyebrow slightly, and then quickly moves on.
What a failure.
My irritation keeps building, and all of it is now aimed squarely at that young alpha.
Bastard!
Asshole!
Idiot!
All right, let’s not kid ourselves. He sparked hope in me, and then just left me hanging like that? After I gave him the green light?
It’s almost like a slap in the face, so I colorfully curse him out in my own head, feeling burning waves of anger roll through me.
I have never given any guy the green light before.
Never.
I’m a fucking twenty-two-year-old virgin in everything; I haven’t even had my first kiss yet, for fuck’s sake!
I’ve never trusted anyone deeply enough to get close.
Not after what Senu went through at their hands.
I couldn’t. Sex was tainted for me, something brutal and alien.
Even when I watched porn, I tended to dissociate from what I saw on the screen, so I wouldn’t feel tempted to try it.
And the one time I did agree to have a relationship, he turned around and simply walked away.
I try not to let myself feel humiliated, but the feeling keeps creeping back in. Jerky, sickening. As another hour passes, then another, the whole situation starts to feel worse and worse.
My mood turns sour, like six-day-old milk.
Unexpectedly, I spot Storm’s tall figure approaching, with that round little red-haired omega of his walking beside him, along with Gessler.
The omega’s face, as always, holds a cheerful smile, which irritates me beyond words. Yeah, the fucker has his True Mate and gets dicked daily. Probably a good reason to sport that silly grin.
Storm exchanges a few words with the police officer. The officer picks up his jacket, which usually signals that we're wrapping things up. But why? There are still at least three hours left until the fair ends.
Meanwhile, the red-haired omega looks at me with a subtle smirk playing on his lips. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I give him an ugly grimace. I have no interest in returning his friendly expression.
Finally, Mr. Gessler and Storm step into my booth.
Storm pulls out two folding stools, and they both sit down.
Damn it, this is going to be a conversation.
I put on the darkest, most hostile expression I can manage and cross my arms over my chest.
"We have good news. The young candidate who showed up earlier has returned and confirmed that he is still interested in your contract."
"What?" I blurt out instinctively.
Wow, and I have already given up.
A flood of completely contradictory emotions hits me.