Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Xnaurl
I pace the marble floor of the Obsidian Grand Hotel lobby, my heavy footsteps echoing off the vaulted ceiling. The extravagant chandeliers mock me with their twinkling lights. If only they could illuminate the mountain of tasks still looming before me.
"For the love of all that's unholy," I mutter, checking my watch for the hundredth time. "How long does it take to prepare a simple meeting room?"
A tiny human scurries past, barely reaching my chest. I resist the urge to scoop her up and deposit her somewhere safe. These fragile creatures are everywhere, like delicate china dolls in a bull's pen.
"Watch where you're going," I growl, more out of concern than annoyance. She squeaks an apology and dashes away.
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. Humans. So small, so breakable. And yet, they're the backbone of my company. I'd be lost without their ingenuity and work ethic. But in a city like this, with its hidden dangers and otherworldly threats, I can't help but worry.
"Sir, about the staffing issue..." a timid voice pipes up.
I whirl around, towering over the poor desk clerk who looks ready to melt into a puddle. "What now?" I growl.
The young woman's eyes grow ever larger. "N-never mind, Mr. Sonagh. I'll handle it."
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "No, tell me. What's the problem?"
As she stammers out an explanation about scheduling conflicts, I can't help but marvel at how fragile humans are. Like delicate porcelain dolls in a world of stone giants. It's a wonder they don't shatter just walking down the street.
"...so we're short three bellhops for the evening shift," she finishes.
"Fine. Pull staff from the staffing agency. Tell them I directed you to do so. Please." I add that last word as if it could change my tone of voice.
It must, as she marches away with a more determined step. Good. Humans need to move less like prey if they don't want to be treated like such.
For all their weaknesses, humans are indispensable. They keep this city running smoother than orc-made gears. But I worry. One wrong step and they could tumble through a crack in reality, never to be seen again.
I cast a wary glance at the ornate walls, half-expecting to see tendrils of Fae magic seeping through. The wards should hold, but in a place with as much history as Obsidian City, you can never be too careful. This was once a playground for creatures who saw humans as mere playthings or snacks.
I snort, remembering my gran's lectures. "Xnaurl," she'd say, "humans are a gift. Treat 'em right and they might just awaken the mating bond in ya."
Yeah, right. As if I have time for mate-seeking with everything else on my plate. Still, a small part of me can't help but wonder...
Suddenly, the sweetest, most intoxicating scent I've ever encountered wafts through the lobby. It's like my gran's famous honeycakes, but a thousand times better. My mouth waters instantly, and for a split second, I'm transported back home, lounging in the kitchen as a young orc.
"Xnaurl? Hello? You there?"
I blink, realizing I've completely forgotten about the video call with Urul. Shaking my head to clear it, I refocus on the tiny screen in my massive green hand. But movement catches my eye, and I glance up just in time to see her.
A vision in a drapey black sweater and flowing black trousers, stepping into the elevator across the lobby. Our gazes meet for a split second, and I swear time stops as my eyes drink in the perfection of her heart-shaped face.
Without thinking, I take a step forward, some primal part of me compelling me to rush after her before those doors close. But I'm too late, rooted to the spot as she disappears from view.
"Did you break your phone again?" Urul's voice snaps me back to reality.
I scowl at the screen. "No, I didn't break the damn phone." Though I'm tempted to now, just to end this conversation.
If Urul were half as clever as he thinks he is, I wouldn't be stuck here juggling a million tasks. Re-staffing Obsidian City offices, overseeing Avalon Vale development – it's enough to make even an orc's head spin.
Not that I entirely blame him. He's on a "honeymoon" with his new mate – who just happens to be the EVP of real estate development and my direct supervisor. I grunt, thinking sourly, I wouldn't let my mate out of my sight either. If I had one.
I drag my attention back to Urul. "I'm still here. Just... distracted. There's this scent..." I trail off, inhaling deeply. "The hotel kitchen must be whipping up something incredible."
Urul's brow furrows, his interest suddenly piqued. "Oh? What does it smell like?"
I roll my eyes. Trust my cousin to fixate on the most irrelevant detail. "Like dessert," I growl, my mouth watering despite my irritation. "The best I've ever smelled. Probably for that ridiculous event you're insisting on hosting."
Urul's eyes glint with amusement. "Funny you should mention that. Weren't you the one who thought remote work was strange?"
I bare my teeth in a humorless grin. "I don't trust what I can't see or smell. That includes the ones I'm supposed to shepherd."
"Manage," Urul corrects, his tone infuriatingly patient. "You're managing these people, X. And while I don't disagree with your sentiment, you can't desire one thing and then be mad about living with the consequences."
I open my mouth to argue, but Urul barrels on, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Especially because I suspect you might be scenting your mate."
My jaw snaps shut. The very idea is preposterous. Absurd. Completely... not entirely impossible. I think of the woman in the elevator, of that intoxicating scent, and something twists in my gut.
"Don't be ridiculous," I mutter, but even to my own ears, the words lack conviction.
Urul's smug face fills the cracked screen of my phone, and I want to deny his outlandish claim on principle alone. But the memory of that scent lingers, twisting my gut with an inexplicable need to find its source. The vision of the woman in the elevator flashes through my mind again, unbidden and frustratingly vivid.
Before I can formulate a suitably scathing response, Urul's braying laughter interrupts my train of thought. "I shall let you go, then," he says, eyes twinkling with mischief. "I wish you godspeed in finding your mate as soon as possible. Preferably tonight."
My eyes narrow. "Tonight? Why tonight?"
"Well," Urul drawls, stroking his chin in mock contemplation, "I need you focused on the deal tomorrow. Though on second thought, perhaps I should hope you don't find them until after. It might work in our favor if you have that glint of murder in your eye... as you do now."
I feel my jaw clenching, muscles tightening beneath my green skin. "I don't have a glint of anything in my eye," I growl, "except maybe the desire to reach through this screen and throttle you."
I roll my eyes, a gesture that feels entirely inadequate to convey the depth of my exasperation. "I am not scenting my mate," I emphasize, but the words feel hollow, lacking their usual conviction. My gut churns with an unsettling mix of anticipation and denial.
Urul's infuriating wink fills the screen. "Sure," he drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
The smug bastard, I think, my finger hovering over the 'end call' button. I can't bear to look at his self-satisfied grin for another second. With a grunt of frustration, I jab at the screen, disconnecting the call with more force than necessary.
A familiar crack spreads across the surface of my phone, and I let out a weary sigh. "Perfect," I mutter, staring at the spiderweb of fractures. It's the third phone this month. "Just what I needed today."
I pocket the damaged device, my mind racing. That scent... that woman... No. I shake my head, trying to clear it. I have a job to do, deals to close, an entire development to oversee. I can't afford to be distracted by fairy tales and mating bonds, no matter how tempting they might be to my traitorous heart.