Prima Mate

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Prima Mate Page 5

by Tabitha Black


  She flipped another page and stopped at the huge ad with bold black letters on a pale yellow background, which took up half a page. Is your estrus interfering with your daily life? Have your regular suppressants stopped working? Visker might be the solution! Call us today!

  Clara stared at it for several long moments, wondering why she’d never seen it before. She’d never even heard of Visker, whatever that was. Making a snap decision, she picked up the phone and dialed the number.

  After a few moments of speaking to the lady, she hung up and leaned back, rubbing her face. As it turned out, Visker was a new, experimental brand of suppressant whereby the necessary hormones were delivered via a patch worn on the skin rather than being taken orally. The concept made sense, and while a part of Clara knew that trying something so new and untested was risky, she was at the point where she’d do anything to maintain her lifestyle. Her self-control. Her sanity.

  The patches were eye-wateringly expensive but luckily, money was one thing she had in abundance so she’d immediately ordered enough to tide her over for three months. If, by some miracle, it worked, she could always get more. She also intended to save at least one small batch to study, to dissect the ingredients and note the differences in active compounds to those in the meds which had stopped working for her—provided there were differences other than the method of delivery.

  Closing her eyes, she ran her fingers through her tangled, matted hair and sighed, thanking the gods it was the weekend so nobody else was at the lab. Dressed in a crumpled pair of sweats and an oversized sweater, her makeup smudged, lips swollen from Evander’s kisses, there was no doubt she would raise a few eyebrows if any of her colleagues were to see her.

  With express delivery, the patches were due to arrive in just a couple days’ time. All she had to do until then was hide.

  At least Evander had no idea where she lived or worked.

  Sitting bolt upright, she fought back the sudden wave of nausea as her stomach sank. She’d told him what she did for a living. There was only one medical research facility in Sandor and it was right here, on the Hill. He would simply have to come in during the week, ask for her by name, and she would be right there. Gods, why had she been so stupid?

  He’d caught her off-guard, she thought savagely. It was his fault.

  As calmly as she could, swallowing her rising panic, she tidied up her workstation so there was no sign she had been there that morning. Then, snatching the scientific journal containing the Visker ad from her desk, she hurried home, constantly looking over her shoulder.

  Only once she was back in the safety of her apartment did she feel able to breathe again. Stripping off her clothes, she ran herself a bath, her mind chattering constantly. While she waited for the tub to fill, she went to her nightstand and opened the drawer, reaching for the bottle of green pills out of compulsive habit.

  Clara shook out a handful and stared at them for a moment. She had already been taking the maximum daily dose but what if she exceeded it? Not by much… just a little. It might give her at least a slight sense of security over the next couple of days. Maybe her body had simply grown accustomed to the previous dose, and increasing it—only slightly—would be the answer.

  She was still staring at the tablets thoughtfully when her telephone rang, making her damn near jump out of her skin. Without thinking, she picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me.”

  Her father’s gruff voice was unmistakable. Clara sank onto the side of the bed, limp with relief. She shouldn’t have picked up. It could have been Evander. He was friends with Arius, after all—oh gods, what if he’d told Arius already? “Hello Father,” she managed.

  “Just reminding you about this evening.”

  “This evening?”

  Neros gave a little snort of impatience. “The gala thing. I need you by my side to wow a prospective client.”

  No, no, no, no, no… “That was tonight?” she squeaked.

  “I told you about it weeks ago.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “Eight o’clock at the Royal Theater. I’ll meet you there. Wear something pretty.”

  “But—” Clara sighed as her protest was cut short by the click of her father hanging up.

  Evander might not even be there, she told herself, forcing herself to get up off the bed and heading into the bathroom to turn off the tap. Not all Alphas go to all society events. You can go and just stick close to Father, and stay long enough to woo the client, then plead a headache and scuttle off home.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t believe her own argument. If this gala thing was being held at the Royal Theater, there was a very good chance Arius would be there, and wherever the ruler was, his best friend wasn’t far behind.

  Were it anybody else who’d asked her to attend, she would have cried off, but her father was not a man to be denied. Ever. And even the mere thought of disappointing him was unbearable.

  Clara had no choice. She had to go. She could only hope she wouldn’t run into the russet-haired Alpha whose touch turned her to liquid.

  Resolutely, desperate enough to take the risk, she opened her hand. She had still been clutching the pills and now they lay there, nestled in her palm, looking as innocuous as they were vital to her survival.

  With a sigh of resignation, Clara sorted out double her usual dose and put the rest back into the bottle. She stared at the two pellets for a long moment and then, before she could change her mind, she tossed them into her mouth and swallowed them.

  There was a chance, albeit a tiny one, that they might work. Or at least suppress the worst of her heat cycle.

  She could only hope so. Because if they didn’t, she was well and truly fucked.

  Evander usually enjoyed attending social functions but this one was different. He had only one thing on his mind: Clara. After leaving Arius’s apartment, he’d headed straight to the medical facility, hoping against hope he’d find her there.

  The damn place had been empty.

  The rest of the day had been spent wandering fruitlessly around the section of the Hill he lived in, praying to all the gods that he’d simply run into her. If he found her, he vowed, he would chain her to his bed until she agreed to stay with him.

  By the time the sun had set, he was on the verge of telling Arius her name after all—then he’d remembered the gala that evening. Clara’s father would no doubt be in attendance and there was a chance she’d be there, too.

  A tiny chance was all Evander needed.

  Donning his favorite grey suit with a lavender shirt, he’d tied his hair back in deference to the formality of the occasion, and made his way to the Royal Theater.

  The place was packed, it seemed like every Alpha on the Hill was in attendance. There were so many women. Huge jewels glittered around their necks and on their fingers, their carefully coiffed hair gleamed, and their dresses cost more than an average Beta earned in a month.

  It was strange, Evander thought, how polished their society could seem to a casual observer. There was rigid protocol, a strict hierarchy, and the Alphas milling about seemed to exude control from their every pore. But when in rut, they were reduced to mere carnal beasts, no more able to stop themselves from fucking than feral animals. This carefully preserved illusion of civilization was nothing but a show wherein the players pretended to be something they were not.

  Arius and Saskia were holding court in the corner, surrounded by the usual crowd of people who tried to get close to them to gain favor. Evander decided to search every square inch of the place before joining his friends.

  His lower belly ached, as did his groin. His heart had been pounding even before he’d taken his first sip of wine that evening. Clara had to be there. She had to be.

  Hoping the polite expression he’d pasted on his face was hiding his true inner turmoil, Evander smiled and nodded as he moved through the crowd, searching every glossy head for the telltale gold and brunette streaks which belonged to
Clara.

  Neros Pitino was a mogul, one of the most powerful men in Sandor. He owned all the media outlets, and during his reign, Deimos had made good use of his services in order to spread propaganda. Now that Arius was in charge, Neros would have to adapt in order to maintain his position, for Arius didn’t believe in lying to the people. That alone was reason enough for Clara’s father to attend the gala. And since he was a widower, he usually asked his beautiful, charming daughter to accompany him to help dazzle prospective contacts. She had to be there.

  Somewhere.

  “Excuse me,” Evander said after almost colliding with a pretty blonde in a silver dress which left nothing to the imagination. She retaliated with a haughty glare, and he bit down his rising temper. Now was not the time to get into a confrontation.

  Scanning the crowd, his frustration mounting, Evander was about to give up when he spotted Neros. The man was imposing, as broad as he was tall, his balding head gleaming in the light as he gesticulated wildly to the person he was deep in conversation with.

  Gotcha.

  There, beside Neros, stood Clara, beautiful in a shimmering gold gown. Her hair was swept up into a neat bun, and long gold earrings emphasized her slender neck. Even though the hem of her dress reached the floor, Evander knew she was wearing high heels—more to make herself look taller than for any other reason. His cock lengthened and stiffened instantly, the blood roaring in his ears.

  Clara was smiling politely, seeming for all the world like a carefree young Alpha woman, but Evander didn’t miss the way her eyes kept darting from side to side. She was afraid he would be there.

  She had every reason to be.

  Then her eyes met his and widened almost imperceptibly. Evander indicated where he wanted her to go with a tiny jerk of his head, and even from the distance of several feet, he could see the panic in her expression.

  You have a few seconds to decide, he thought grimly. Either you go over there and meet me in private, or I will march right up to you in front of your father.

  Clara seemed to have come to the same conclusion, for after a brief moment of hesitation, she whispered something in Neros’s ear and hurried off to the corner Evander had indicated.

  Good girl. Now I’ve got you.

  Straightening his spine, Evander stalked toward her. The corner was dark, there were few guests in that part of the room, and an imposing marble pillar to hide behind. Just as he’d anticipated, the first whiff of her scent almost brought him to his knees. She was wearing a lot of perfume but even that couldn’t disguise her true essence.

  Not from him.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed as soon as he was within earshot.

  It was not the greeting he had expected. “Looking for you. I’ve been looking for you all day.”

  “I can’t talk now. My father is with an important client. He needs me.”

  Evander shot a glance back at Neros, who was roaring with laughter and clapping his companion on the back. “Looks like he’s doing just fine without you.”

  Clara followed Evander’s gaze. “I told him I’m going to the bathroom. He’ll expect me back in a minute.”

  “What are you, five years old?” Evander took a step toward her, noting the way her nostrils flared at his approach. It took everything he had not to pull her into his arms. “We need to talk. I woke up this morning and you were gone. With one of my favorite shirts, no less.”

  “We had an agreement,” she whispered furiously, backing away until she was trapped up against the ornate column. “You said that if I still wanted to go after… after last night,” she swallowed, “I could. And I still wanted to go.”

  “Why? I don’t understand it. Why are you running from me? You react to me the same way I react to you,” he said, trying to keep his voice as casual as possible.

  “I don’t,” she said but he didn’t miss the flicker in her eyes. “And if you still don’t know why I don’t want to be around you then you weren’t listening to me last night.”

  Somebody giggled nearby, and suddenly Evander wanted nothing more than to be alone with her. “Let’s go somewhere else,” he said. “Talk about this in private.”

  “We can’t.” She lifted her chin and the expression in her green gaze was so haughty and defiant, Evander wanted to slap her. “Besides, there’s nothing to talk about. Last night was… interesting… but like I said, it was a one-time thing. I don’t want to be your mate. I don’t want to be anybody’s mate. Not to mention the fact that nobody else knows I’m…” She trailed off and cleared her throat. “I want to keep it that way.”

  “Why are you so afraid of your father?” Evander said.

  “I’m not afraid of him!”

  “You are. You seem to believe that he’d judge you harshly if he knew what you really are.”

  He must have struck a nerve, as Clara shrank back as if he’d struck her. “Fuck you,” she snarled. “I’m not afraid of him, or anybody. I just want to live my own life without having to answer to anyone—not my father, not a mate.” The disdain in her voice was obvious as she snarled the word. “I’m perfectly content on my own. And the sooner you realize that and find somebody else, the better.”

  With one single step, Evander was crowding her against the pillar with his body, trapping her against the cold marble. Pressing his groin against her, he inhaled the pear scent of her hair and had to stifle a groan. His voice, when he spoke, was gruff. “There is nobody else. I want you. And I will have you, no matter what it takes. I was prepared to work with you to make sure your life is disrupted as little as possible, but you’re really starting to try my patience. And an Alpha in rut, as you know, does not possess much of that in the first place.

  “The way I see it, you still have a choice. You can work with me, or against me. But either way, you will be mine.”

  She was trembling, he could feel it, and it only made him ache for her more.

  “So what’s it going to be, sweetness? Are you going to cooperate?”

  “I can’t. We can’t. I don’t want to give everything up, why can’t you understand that? I like you, truly, but an Omega’s life just isn’t for me. I would do anything to avoid it.”

  Evander closed his eyes, trying not to let her words get to him. He had to think, fast. Then he had an idea. “Come with me,” he said. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

  “I have to get back to my father.”

  “Either you do as I ask, or I will accompany you to Neros’s side and tell him exactly what happened last night.”

  He could almost taste the sudden panic rising off her in waves. “You wouldn’t do that,” she whispered.

  “Want to bet?”

  There was a long pause, during which he could see the war raging within her. “Fine,” she said at length. “Just a few minutes.”

  Evander closed his eyes to hide his relief. If he had to keep her just a few moments at a time, he would.

  The longer she was around him, the more he would be able to convince her that they were meant to be together. Suppressants or no, she was unable to deny the effect he had on her. And Clara should know better than anyone that biology never lied.

  Chapter Six

  “Clara, this is Arius,” Evander said, “and this is his mate, Saskia.”

  “Your Highness,” Clara said, tipping her head in deference to their status. She’d seen the royal couple around, of course, but she’d never spoken to them before. Up close, they exuded power and charm.

  Arius was wearing a perfectly tailored, dark gray suit. Saskia was stunning in a floor-length, violet gown. Clara felt her gaze drawn to the livid, dark pink circle on the brunette’s neck and remembered the day Arius had given his mate that scar, claiming her as his mate in front of a huge audience. Saskia had fainted from the bite.

  “Lovely to meet you, Clara,” Arius said. He was grinning, his dark eyes narrowed only slightly. Clara felt like she was being tested somehow, like there was something he knew that she didn’t
. She cursed Evander for bringing her over to meet them, and cursed herself for agreeing to it. But he’d threatened to tell her father who she really was.

  She wanted to scream with frustration, and instead she was being forced to stand there and make small talk.

  “I love your dress,” Saskia said, “that color really suits you.”

  “Thank you,” Clara said, flushing at the compliment. “Congratulations to you both on your recent ceremony. It was a sight to behold.” Her face grew hotter as she realized what nonsense she was spouting. Luckily, nobody else seemed to think so—or if they did, they hid it well.

  In fact, Saskia let out a soft, infectious giggle. “That’s one way of describing it. One downside to being a member of the royal family is having to perform some very intimate acts in the public eye. The mating ceremony is one of them.”

  Clara again felt her gaze drawn to the pink, raised scar on Saskia’s neck. She wanted to ask whether it had really hurt as much as it had seemed to but she knew that would be impolite. Instead she bit her lip, wondering why Evander had been so keen to introduce her to the royal couple. In fact, as soon as they had approached Saskia and Arius, the other people surrounding them had melted away, moving to a polite distance. Clara had no idea why.

  “But it was worth it, was it not, pet?” Arius said, sliding an arm around his mate and drawing her close before dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

  “Oh, absolutely.” Saskia glanced around to ensure the four of them couldn’t be overheard, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “I never wanted to be mated,” she said in a soft voice. “But I’ve never known such happiness.”

  Clara could see she was telling the truth. The love and joy radiated off the young woman in waves. But then, Saskia was different. She had never had a career, she had never lived the life of an Alpha. She hadn’t had to give anything up to be with Arius. She hadn’t risked the scorn of her family. And besides, it was obvious that she loved Arius.

 

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