Chapter Thirteen

Despite all the new information Eve told us, there was nothing to be done. It didn’t change the fact that I still shouldn’t contact the press. If I was being honest, I had my doubts about staying quiet.

If the OC was willing to overlook all the rules I’d broken, just to keep me quiet, I was certain that meant my voice would have an effect. My mates disagreed.

Rather than continuing to argue, Zeke had declared that he was calling in his date night with me. Which led to me looking at every piece of clothing I had, trying to figure out what to wear. Zeke said something comfortable and easy.

I had originally picked out some tights with a thin, spiderweb-esque skirt, and then a top with long sleeves that came off just one shoulder. Then I showed Zeke, and he recommended something ‘loose’.

The new top was a heavy sweater that had been cut to just below my breasts. A string was at the bottom which allowed me to pull the hem tight around my rib cage only. It was the bottoms that I couldn’t figure out. Sweats? Something loose off my hips?

My phone was telling me the temperature outside might need more coverage than having my whole stomach exposed.

I found a long skirt, one that would be tight along my thighs but both sides had a slit going up it, making it flowy and was pretty accessible to my legs.

What I wanted to do was get large safety pins, like comically large ones, and pin the slit together to give it more of my style. I just didn’t have any, so I was out of luck. Not that it stopped me from making a note on my phone to get some ordered for later.

I stomped my way down the stairs, platformed boots in hand, only to stop on the bottom step while all four alphas stared at me. Jackson growled, the sound tempting my slick to leak which was very dangerous considering I wasn’t wearing anything underneath my skirt.

“Nah uh,” Zeke said, stepping between me and Jackson when the alpha tried to get closer. “No fucking before the date or else we’ll never leave.”

I sat down on the stairs, lifting my leg and working to get my boots on.

Seb’s low growl caught everyone’s attention. Through gritted teeth he said, “You’re not wearing any underwear, princess.”

Zeke’s head turned around to look at me so quickly that I wondered if he had hurt his neck. His gaze immediately went to my legs. A smirk pulled at his lips, lifting up one side of his smile. “Atta girl.”

He held a hand out to me to help me up and then pulled me so my back was against his front while my other mates said goodbye. Whenever a kiss went too long, he shoved at their shoulder, demanding distance. My arousal was just barely perfuming in my scent as we left.

Each of the alphas had their own vehicles, all large enough to drive every member of the pack at once. Zeke’s had a weird, folded table in the back that he explained was a travel tattoo station.

“I thought you worked at a studio?” I asked as Zeke started driving.

He tapped a little button on the roof of the car and pulled out a pair of sunglasses he put on. Then he pointed to the little handle in front of my legs. I found a large pair of heart shaped glasses for myself.

“I do,” he agreed. “Sometimes people pay more for a house visit. Some people even pay for us to be at events.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Yeah, and when you tell me, I’ll be surprised.”

Zeke chuckled. “Nice try. I thought you wanted to get to know your mates better.”

“I do.”

“So, ask me something.”

I knew it was a distraction, but it was such an enticing offer that I couldn’t refuse. The questions came out without any thoughts, wanting to know how he grew up, what his favorite memory was with me, his favorite color.

How did he become a tattoo artist? Did he have a favorite piece he’s done? When was his birthday?

We talked for so long that I didn’t even notice when he’d parked at our destination until he turned the car off. I immediately looked out the window, trying to figure out where we were. The parking lot was just a designated lot of dirt with a path off to the side and arrows directing to the ‘entrance’.

I was basically skipping as Zeke led me down the path. The building was a dark black color, which was shocking. A little fence surrounded it, also black, and it looked like dead vines were intertwined on it for decoration. Little rocks on the ground were a mix of dark reds and burnt oranges and some that looked purple depending on the angle.

“What is this place?” I asked, my voice just a whisper.

“It’s a garden.” I turned my attention away from the gloomy colors to stare at him in shock. “Full of poisons, actually.”

Then my jaw actually dropped open. “No way.”

That explained the dark vibe of the place and made me even more excited for this date.

Inside, the same dark floral decorations lined the wall. Hanging from the ceiling was a giant chandelier, the fake flames radiating a warm orange glow which added to the eerie ambiance. There was an older couple inside, looking through all the potential souvenirs off to the side while another female stood behind the desk where the signs all pointed to start the tour.

When we got directly in front of her, she didn’t so much as glance up from her book. Her naturally curly hair was pulled back into a messy bun, although a portion of the back that was meant to go up had been missed so it was still dangling. Even the little brown baby hairs around her forehead were tight curls. The glasses she wore weren’t cute, the lenses making her eyes so big that it meant her eyesight must be really, really bad.

The book she wasn’t looking up from was a literal textbook. By the looks of it, she was probably halfway through, the single image, a diagram on the bottom corner of the page, several hexagonal shapes all linked together with random letters around it. The rest of the page was filled with tiny, printed words, making it obvious why her face was literal inches from it.

And yet, the most shocking thing about the woman was that she was obviously an omega. Her floral scent was distinct enough that it didn’t blend in with the rest of the nearby garden.

Zeke cleared his throat, trying to get her attention politely. When that didn’t work, he said, “Good afternoon.” Still, nothing. “Is this where we start the tour?”

A different voice, a male voice from behind us, said, “Yes.”

That got the omega behind the desk to look up, her gaze immediately finding the male who spoke before her eyes widened as she realized we had been talking to her. She blinked her owlish eyes as she apologized.

“Rosy, will you get them some maps and a mask?” the male asked. He obviously worked there, not only from the way he spoke with the omega—Rosy—but the dark green apron tied around his neck and covering most of his body was a dead giveaway. A tool belt went around the apron, and a heavy-duty mask was dangling around his neck.

“Of course,” Rosy said, shuffling around a lot of things to find what the male asked for. “I’m sorry about that. This chapter was just so interesting, and I got caught up in the dissection of the C18 Carbon. Just a single component and yet it determines the subdivision of a toxin. Amazing, right?”

I nodded, more amazed by her than actually understanding her words.

The male behind us chuckled too.

Rosy opened the map and leaned her face only inches from it as she started to draw on it with a dark marker. “You’re going to start here on your self-paced tour, since we unfortunately are done with our guided ones today. Just follow the path. Remember, don’t lean closer to smell any of the flora and funga. And if it’s in a wire cage, definitely don’t squeeze your fingers through to touch it.”

Next, she underlined a few of the letter and number combinations on the drawn path before flipping the map booklet to the next page. “Here is how you know what you’re looking at. Most plants have a little placard with a description, but the map has all their names.”

“How come the names aren’t out there?” I asked.

“Sometimes people get it into their head that a certain name of a plant might not be toxic, or that it’s harmful in a different way than they think. If you have to read the description first, it’s easier to resist the urge to touch or sniff.”

She was smart. It was a weird thought, but one I could barely get past. This omega worked, she was intelligent, she was literally actively learning.

“We do ask that you keep your masks on the entire time.” The male walked around to the back of the desk, grabbing a water bottle out of a little cooler that must be back there. This close, I could scent his alpha designation, and the fact that he was clearly mated to the omega here.

Zeke and I both declined even though I was tempted to buy one just so I could keep talking to Rosy. An omega with a job? How was that even possible? I had so many questions.

Picking up the map and masks, then handing me mine, Zeke paid, and we made our way to the door with a final warning above the frame about the deadly and harmful plants in the garden.

I was basically bouncing with energy and excitement as Zeke and I put on the matching black masks. They were pretty thin, still breathable, but I figured it was more of a reminder to not lean over and sniff than anything.

As soon as we were outside, I squeezed Zeke’s arm, wondering if he’d noticed she was an omega.

“I did,” he agreed. “The only thing I can think of is that she’s not considered an actual employee. She’s probably not getting paid. But they’re also not having to pay another receptionist. Ingenious, really. Now, put all thoughts of the other omega out of your head. This is our date, yeah?”

I went on my tippy toes to kiss him—realized I couldn’t. Tried to touch our noses, which were also covered. Then, in probably a world record timing for breaking the rules, considered taking my mask off.

Zeke laughed, leaning down to touch his forehead to mine.

With our hands clasped, we started our tour. The cobblestone pathway had been dyed a black color and the walls of the garden were made of stone, making the whole place feel like it was centuries old.

There was a lot more green than I’d anticipated, not only because I just assumed the plants would continue with the dark vibe, but also because it was still winter. Some areas had a solar warmer, others had missing leaves where the elements did finally have an effect. The flowers, though, were beautiful. Colorful and harmful, I was aspiring to be like them.

We took our time through the garden, reading all the plaques, looking up their names, talking about which one was our favorite, laughing at the uniquely harmful consequences of some. Our words were slightly muffled by the masks, but not enough that it made it too hard to understand each other.

A lot of the names were new to me, but some were so infamous that they had a second plaque explaining the history of use.

The garden’s grounds were huge. A tour was only part of the location because in the very back there was an ‘event area’ which gave me all sorts of ideas. We saw a few employees working—one hosing down large gardening equipment, another lying down on their back taking pictures of a flower that was slightly drooping, and even one sweeping the walkway with a broom that looked like it was meant more for flying than cleaning.

When we came to the end of the tour, arriving back at the welcome center, I couldn’t help saying, “This was the best date ever.”

Zeke smiled widely, not the cocky kind that came with confidence, one that showed I’d made him happy. It was a cycle of happiness between us, reminding me that this was why I refused to go to the media and explain my side. This wasn’t something I wanted to risk.

“We’re not done yet,” he admitted.

We left the garden, and Zeke started the long drive back toward the city. He stopped for a quick meal which we ate in the car, enjoying the greasy, filling deliciousness.

As soon as I finished, though, I asked, “Now where are we going?”

“It’s another surprise.”

I groaned, the sound long and loud and put-out.

Zeke chuckled. “I thought you enjoyed your first surprise.”

“I did.”

“You’ll enjoy this one, too.”

I grumbled under my breath about bossy, demanding alphas, which only made my mate smile. The drive brought us back into familiar territory, or at least, somewhat familiar. Most everything was the same, except a few restaurants or shops that we’d pass weren’t the ones I remembered. It didn’t feel too much like a big deal, stores closed down all the time randomly, or moved to a new location.

At least, that was what I told myself.

Zeke parked in a surprisingly empty public lot that had shade coverage, not that we needed it with how cold it was. The shops we passed didn’t give a hint as to where we were going since they were all different. A vibrant shop that sold large cookies, a deco store that was a mix between a coffee shop and a place to play games, a bar that was only for betas.

I was led into a shop whose name I missed, but their selling point was immediately clear once I managed to blink through the blindingly white lights. It was a tattoo shop. The desk in front was decorated in artist drawings, the walls also covered in them. Different styles from bubble art to drawings that looked like a photograph to artwork so colorful and cartoonish that it was amazing to me that someone actually drew it.

A few people were waiting on the bench that we passed, Zeke pulling me further into the room. Six stations in total, the building was longer than it was wide, fitting each station against the wall with a thin aisle to walk down. All the artists gave Zeke a quick greeting, none of them bothering to question what he was doing there or with me.

Three artists were working. Two on large pieces, another on a small design around a bellybutton. Zeke took me to a station that was obviously his by the comfortability he had with it, patting the large chair for me to sit on.

The workplace had a little printer, which I thought was odd until he picked up a tablet and turned that on. There were also more familiar parts for a tattooist like the cart with the needle and machine, box of tight gloves, and towelettes. His desk drawers were labeled for the colors like, ‘bright’, ‘pastel’, and ‘dark’.

“What are we doing here?” I asked, whispering so I didn’t interrupt the concentration of the other tattooists. Technically music was playing in the background, but I didn’t know if interrupting the song would bother anyone.

“You don’t need to whisper,” Zeke said, also whispering.

I glared at him.

“Let me get everything set up.”

“Am I getting a tattoo?”

“Do you want one?”

I thought about it. I had no idea what I’d get, but it sounded like fun. Maybe something small and cute, just a random design. I could even get something around my wrist or ankle like faux jewelry.

“Let’s do this first, and if you want something after, I’ll do it for you,” Zeke said.

I wanted to ask what ‘this’ was, but I was also conscious of the other people in the building. Alphas and betas. No omegas here.

It took a while for Zeke to do everything. Printing something out, then cutting it down to shape before setting it on the cart. Then he started pulling out ink and pouring little drops into tiny cups.

All of this seemed normal until he had me get off the chair and switch spots.

“Uh…” the sound I made was purely hesitant.

When he tried taking off his sweater, which was also his shirt, my instincts panicked. I grabbed his hands, stopping him from exposing himself in front of others. A growl started in the back of my throat, a warning that I wasn’t happy.

“Okay, not all the way off,” he agreed. Instead, he worked just one arm out, and I did my best to keep his stomach and chest covered to any prying gazes. With his shoulder exposed, I saw that the back of his arm had a blank space that he was prepping.

“Are you able to tattoo yourself?”

“Kinda. But this spot is too hard for me to reach.”

I looked over at the other artists. None of them looked ready to stop what they were doing to help Zeke. Maybe the one doing the bellybutton piece, although my guess was that the others in the lobby were waiting. The idea that came to mind seemed ridiculous, yet I couldn’t help asking, “Am I going to do it?”

“Yep. Here, take this and place it where you think looks good. Then just peel back the paper and the outline should still be there. Don’t worry if you don’t like the positioning, we can clean the area and try again.”

This was an absolutely crazy, and potentially terrible idea. I refused to say either of that out loud though because I didn’t want him to change his mind.

I did as I was told, setting up the paper so the image was placed in the perfect spot and then slowly revealing it. For now, it was all one color, but it should be easy enough to trace over with the proper needle. At least, I was giddy enough to think it would be easy.

“The reference is on the tablet if you want to take a look,” Zeke said.

It was beautiful. And familiar. We’d just seen one of these flowers in the garden, admired its dangerous, threatening colors.

A buzzing sound demanded I pay attention as Zeke went through the process of explaining how to tattoo. It was probably the world’s quickest explanation for what I needed to do and then the buzzing sound was in my hand, vibrating against my fingers.

As much as I was worried that I would hurt him, I was also excited. Not only was this going to be fun, but the amount of trust my mate had in me was like an aphrodisiac.

I took my time. The piece itself was probably just as big as my palm, with a lot of lines that were definitely not as straight as they could be. Still, I put all of my concentration into it.

By the time I finished, my hand was cramping from how hard I was holding the needle, my neck ached from my dramatic lean to make sure I was doing it right, but I was in love with my artwork. And maybe even a little with my alpha too.

Zeke walked me through cleaning it and putting a clear bandage on it then cleaned up his station. The moment he finished, and he was about to tell me he was ready to go, I jumped on him. I didn’t care that we were in public, I needed to show him how much I appreciated him, how much fun I’d had, how happy I was with him.

My hands came to the back of his head, keeping him close as I kissed him. His hands wrapped around my thighs, holding me up, and probably helped to keep my bare ass from showing considering the split in my skirt was raised dangerously high.

“Zeke, man,” someone called out.

My alpha pulled his mouth away from mine, earning a whimper that made him growl, baring his teeth at the other alphas in the space. Then he was carrying me out, my face nuzzling into his neck as I inhaled his scent. I couldn’t help myself, licking up the column of his throat, tasting the mix of sweat and berries together, humming at the taste.

“Fuck, Hannah. Do that again, please.”

Begging from my alpha had slick leaking from my core, no doubt creating a wet spot from where I was pressed tightly against him.

I licked his throat again, before gently biting down, maybe even squeezing a little too hard and leaving a slight red mark from my teeth. Both of our perfumes bloomed, mixing together in a scent of lavender-berries that I was desperate for more of.

I bit down harder, sucking along my mate’s skin and leaving a bruise that felt like a claim.

It was already dark out, but the occasional passing lamp allowed me to see my work as I continued to mark my mate’s skin. My hips had started to move, grinding against him as I worked for my own pleasure.

My back made contact with something cold and hard, making me gasp at the shock. Zeke used the moment to take charge, readjusting his grip so his hands were under each cheek, the tips of his fingers incredibly close to my core. His mouth found mine, his tongue immediately meeting mine, tasting my gasp.

I needed more than kissing and my hands seemed to work of their own accord, trailing down his neck and chest and reaching between our bodies until I found the top of his sweats, trying to push them down.

“Shit, Hannah.” He tried to pull away, but I clung tighter to him, squeezing my thighs around him and wrapping my arms around his neck again.

Then I found myself in the back of the car, still straddling Zeke as he sat down and worked to get his sweats low enough to expose his gorgeous cock.

I didn’t need any more incentive, I dropped down his entire length in one stroke, groaning at the way he filled me up so completely. Hands came around on my hips to help me move up and down on him and we were already so close to the edge that my mate was telling me to come, demanding it.

“You better come, Hannah, or I’m going to knot your mouth next time,” he told me, continuing to thrust into me at the same time. “You won’t get to feel my cum inside you, I’ll knot so far inside your mouth that you won’t get to taste me either.”

I whimpered, my arousal somehow increasing with his dirty words.

“You were desperate for me. Jumping on me at my place of work so that all those other alphas got a tease of what they could never have. Why’s that? Huh, Hannah? Why can’t they have you?”

“Because I’m yours.”

“Because you’re mine.”

I slammed my mouth over his, clashing with him almost violently as my orgasm forced its way through my body. More slick and cum leaked from me, the liquids spilling down my thighs since my mate didn’t knot me.

“Why?” I asked, panting from the exertion of my climax.

“I’m going to take you home and knot you properly, omega.”

With how excited my body got at his words, it was like my first orgasm hadn’t even happened. I climbed off my mate, making my way to the front seat and ignoring the stain of cum and slick on my skirt. Zeke got behind the wheel and drove us home where he made good on his promise to knot me in my nest.

It was the perfect ending to a perfect date.