Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

brANSON

My head aches and throbs as I force my eyes to open. Rolling over to the side, I pull out my scanner and press my thumb to the collection spot. The last thing I need is to be sick on my wedding day. Thankfully, everything seems to be normal except a bit of dehydration.

Makes sense. The hours I was up getting this place ready for my new bride didn't include drinking any water, but it should have. As I lie there, I let my brain wander around the place, taking inventory of space, storage, and the like.

It really is too small for two people. I could do my best to make it work, but, at the end of the day, I know whoever is waiting for me at the end of the aisle won't be comfortable. If I'm going to give this my all and expect the same from them, then I need to actually put in the effort to make them want to live with me.

I grab my communicator and pull up a directory of nearby places for sale or rent. Next to me, on the nightstand, my dad's check glares at me, demanding I up the price point of where I'm looking for. But that's the thing. I don't need fancy. I don't need expensive. I just need a roof over my head and a place to sleep.

But omegas will always want more. If she goes into heat, she'll need a place to nest. Even though I don't know this person, I already want her to have the best, to be comfortable in all things. Just because I'm a simple man doesn't mean she should have to suffer next to me.

Besides, both Jackson and Mikey moved into bigger spaces, so it's not unheard of. The zeros stand out in stark relief, and part of me feels guilty for taking their money. If it's not for me, though, then it should be fine.

An exasperated sigh flits through my lips as I scoop up the scrap of paper and get dressed. This afternoon will come soon enough, and if I want to scope out some new places to live, I'll need to make it fast.

Jackson and Mikey look at themselves in the mirror, flexing their muscles as they make kissing sounds. A soft chuckle vibrates in my throat as I turn from them and concentrate on getting ready. Since they're not the ones having to actually prepare for anything, they can have all the fun, leaving me with all the responsibility.

I stare at my reflection, my stomach clenching with just how well I look in the tux provided by the government. I look fancy... too fancy. I long to rip the trappings off and slide back into my work clothes. Still though, I can't deny how good I look.

Hopefully, my future wife will appreciate it. Shaking my head, I pull up my sleeves to inspect my cufflinks. Not one blemish. Perfect. All that's left is to pick out a ring.

The trek over to the display case is a short one, but it's the longest few steps I've taken in my life. I've never had to pick out jewelry for a girl before. Unless you count elementary education crushes which seem easily satisfied enough with candy rings and necklaces.

The diamonds stand out in a glittering array, drawing my gaze to each of them. Which to choose. As if they can sense my hesitation, my friends lumber over and lean on the glass, looking down at the rings.

"These look nothing like the rings they gave me to choose from when I married Christine," Mikey frowns. "She would have loved this one with the surrounding halo. The others were a bit plain. At least compared to these."

"Same here," Jackson agrees. "Not that Erin will ever trade it. I've offered. She's quite possessive of her ring."

"Christine's the same. Still though, I wonder why they switched it up like this? Maybe too many omegas were complaining?"

"Or maybe they know who the bride is and are choosing based on what they know about them?" I muse.

The two look at me, their eyes widening. "You know," Mikey says, shifting over to look a bit more closely at the rings. "You might have a point."

"Does this mean you snagged yourself a princess?" Jackson teases easing off of the counter?

"It would be just my luck."

I rub my jaw as a completely different princess pops into my mind. But I have to shove her out. Though I don't know who's waiting for me at the end of the aisle, I know they won't want me thinking of someone else. A weary sigh flits through my lips as I look at the rings.

If the theory is correct, then whoever it is comes from money. Now, more than ever, the dread creeps up my spine. She won't want to live in a small house or apartment. She won't be content with me earning what I do. Will this relationship even survive?

I concentrate on the rings, my eyes drifting a bit over the shiny bits before coming back to one in particular. No matter which ones I look at, I'm always drawn back to that one. Perhaps I'm stupid in thinking a princess cut would be perfect for whoever this little princess is who's waiting for me, but it's the one I'd most like to see resting on her finger.

Once the concierge takes it from out of the glass cabinet and lays it into my palm, my pulse skyrockets. This is real. Soon, I'll be face to face with my forever mate. At least, one can hope. There's no way they'd fuck it up this much, right?

The workers motion for us to head down an offshoot leading into a small, intimate room. The seats are packed. At least they are on my side. All the friends in my unit who could be here stuff themselves into the small space. They look cramped, but happy.

On the other side, there's only one person. The matronly woman glances over at me, her lips pursed as if she's tasting something disgusting. The moment I fully enter and take my place, she stands up.

"Is this a joke? Some sort of scam? Who are you?"

The officiant steps forward, his face pale. "Please, I must ask you again to sit down. All will be revealed when the bride walks down the aisle."

"My daughter is not marrying that man. A mistake has been made. I demand to see a matchmaker."

From across the aisle, the Alphas and betas jeer, making obscene gestures with their hands. Though I completely agree with the sentiment, the last thing my bride needs to see is them antagonizing her mother. Stepping down from the dais, I make my way over to her.

"I assure you, I'm here because the government demanded me to be here. This is not a joke or a scam. I have no idea who you are. How could I be scamming you?"

"How dare you speak to me as if we're equals," she sneers. "I am an Astencourt. You will never be equal to me."

My blood runs cold at her last name. I am indeed supposed to marry a princess. My little anal princess. That is, unless she has a sister I'm not aware of.

It's a distinct possibility, but my gut tells me otherwise. In some ways, this is great news. In others, I feel as if I'm at a loss. Now that I know I'm going to marry Emmeline Astencourt, I dread the idea of taking her back to my place.

There's no way it will ever be good enough for her.

I will never be good enough for her.

"Why am I even talking to you?" Looking around me, she spears the officiant with another glare. "I demand you conclude this matter is a sham and allow my daughter to come back home with me."

"I cannot do that. I'm ordered by law to uphold this ceremony."

"Then I will have nothing to do with it." Turning back to me, she narrows her eyes. "As for you, don't you even think of touching her. When these six months are up, she will marry someone worthy of her. If you dare defile her in any way, I will have you arrested." Before I can even respond, she flounces out of the room in a huff, leaving me standing there bewildered.

"I guess that means no wedding night for you then, huh?" Mikey jokes, drawing a smattering of laughs from my friends.

But to me, this is no joking matter. As much as I was worried about this marriage before, I'm dreading it even more now. Not just because her mother is a lunatic, but because if it is Emmeline Astencourt coming down the aisle, there's no way in hell I'll be able to keep my hands off of her virginal body.