4

Half an hour later, I was back at my place. It felt strangely empty, almost like I didn’t belong there anymore—like I was already starting to see myself living in Damien’s apartment. But maybe that was a good thing. It helped me focus.

I grabbed my tablet and pulled up the photos of the four people I needed to find matches for. I sat down on the soft carpet by the window, looking out at the small lake and the green, peaceful grove. I loved this spot. I wondered if Damien would like it here too. What a bold thought, right? I’d put so much effort into renovating it, but he was from the Lowen family. This house might seem ridiculously small to him.

First, I closed my eyes and tried to relax my mind. It wasn’t easy—flashes of Damien riding me kept popping into my head. But eventually, I managed to calm down. I propped the tablet against the window, glancing at the four photos. I let myself slip into the same headspace I’d used before when making good matches. I had to trust my gut, for better or worse.

I focused on Day’s photo first, slowly scrolling through the database of other potential clients from Fate’s Choice. These were the passive clients—the ones who filled out their profiles on the site and were ready to pay only if a good match was found for them.

Trying to keep an open mind and let the energy flow through me, I closely looked at their pictures. Day’s face was on one side of the screen while photos of other people I scrolled by on the other side. With concentration, I took a deep breath. One image caught my eye, but it wasn’t a strong feeling. This person felt like they might be a half-match at best.

With some concern, I realized I’d reached the end of the list!

Fate’s Choice had way fewer passive clients than I remembered—about 4,000! What happened? Why had it shrunk so much? Is that why they launched this weird promotion with guaranteed matches?

Not good, not good! My worry pulled me out of my trance, and I started doubting if any of this made sense at all. But I had to at least try with the other three.

For the next half-hour, I went through the rest of the photos, comparing them to the database. Other than one possible Half Mate for Day, I found only some weak ‘maybe’ Half Mates—but more likely Low Mates—for the others—though even that was a stretch. I sat there, feeling defeated, mindlessly scrolling through the photos. No matter how hard I tried to focus or relax, I felt nothing. These people just weren’t highly compatible. It was a dead end.

It hit me then: Mr. Ragu must have exhausted every other option before reaching out to me. I was his last, desperate, crazy chance, but… it was all for nothing. You can’t fill an empty cup with an empty teapot.

His team must’ve gone through this database for weeks and come to the same conclusion. Even with their more traditional methods—like comparing client questionnaires about preferences, hobbies, and expectations—they couldn’t make a match either.

Did I fail? I had nothing to offer Mr. Ragu. The database was simply too small. What could I do now?

I got up and went outside to take a few deep breaths. The light was soft, and the birds were singing quietly. It was already afternoon, and all I wanted was to go back to Damien and hold him… instead of dealing with this nonsense from Fate’s Choice.

They did this to themselves, for fuck’s sake! Greedy bastards.

Leaning against a tree trunk, I closed my eyes. A strange, almost silly thought crept into my mind.

What if these clients showed up at one of Fate’s Choice marriage contract fairs?

A chill ran through me, as if Fate itself had touched me.

Of course, only the customers who agreed to participate were included. Traditional fairs were still viewed negatively by most clients, so only a small number wanted to go that route.

But they had one big advantage: people from outside attended in huge numbers—not just those who had already submitted their profiles. The selection pool was way bigger. Up to 30,000 people visited these fairs daily!

Compared to the database… it was obvious which one had better odds of finding a match. These fairs and auctions were hugely popular back in the day, about a hundred years ago, when there wasn’t much legal oversight. But those days were long gone. Now, every contract was handled in a businesslike way, with all participants legally protected.

In the large halls, inside special glass booths, the so-called ‘contractees’ waited for visitors to come and check out their profiles—and sometimes even sample their pheromonal Allure through special cards infused with it. If multiple people showed interest in one contractee, a real auction could start. However, the contractee had to agree to all interested bidders before anything happened. Of course, this didn’t happen often. Usually, people just walked around the expo hall, looking at the glass booths where omegas, betas, and alphas waited for offers. A lot of attendees came just to watch, even though the tickets were expensive—it was an old-fashioned, fascinating process to observe. Still, some got lucky and left with a new partner.

Surprisingly, about 30% of the participants ended up finding a match, and sometimes that number even hit 50%!

Considering the fairs only lasted two to three days, it was an impressive success rate. This was why matchmaking agencies still kept this tradition alive.

I knew Fate’s Choice had one of these fairs scheduled for this weekend—only four days left!

Why couldn’t I stop thinking about this? A strong feeling that the clients I was working with needed to be a part of it was becoming more persistent.

Soon, it was so intense that my hands started to shake as I scrolled through their contracts on the tablet, searching for any mention of an open fair participation agreement.

Then I grabbed my phone and called Mr. Ragu, clenching my jaw as I put him on speaker.

"There are still two weeks left on their contracts, right?" I asked as soon as he picked up.

"Oh, hi, Storm. Good to hear from you! I hope your… bed duties are going well?" Mr. Ragu chuckled. "But yeah, two weeks left, and three for the beta—the, uh, criminal," he confirmed. "Do you have something for me?"

"My gut tells me there aren’t any high matches in this pool. I only found some possible Half Mates, weak ones. But I’ve got an unusual idea. I know these clients opted out of open fairs, but as I checked their contracts, there’s a small clause that gives us a certain chance!"

"I see you’re taking this seriously, which I appreciate. What’s the chance?" Mr. Ragu asked, sounding curious.

"In each contract, there’s an annex stating that if we have trouble finding a match, Fate’s Choice can call the clients to an open fair. It’s part of the company’s general policy—they didn’t sign it directly in their individual contracts, but they agreed to comply with the general term of use while registering on the site. This loophole means we can b***ring them to an open fair or auction. It’ll boost our chances, especially for omegas like Star and Darien—they’ll definitely draw a lot of interest from alphas."

Mr. Ragu was silent for a moment.

"Hmmm. In their questionnaires, they all said they didn’t want to participate in open fairs or auctions. But you’re right—the company’s general policy does give us this small option in, let’s say, emergency situations. We could technically apply it here, but I expect they’ll resist."

"I can talk to them, try to convince them," I offered.

"Are you really sure this will work? Fairs do have a good success rate, but agreeing to participate doesn’t guarantee they’ll accept any offers. I’ve seen this before—clients get proposals but reject them if they’re picky, and some of these definitely are!"

"I get that. But from a psychological standpoint, they’ll see we’re really trying hard to find good matches for them. Some might even agree to extend their contracts instead of demanding a fine if they realize we’re putting in the effort. And if the fair doesn’t work, we still have a week left to set up meetings with a few people I’ve picked out. It’ll be their last chance, and they’ll feel the pressure, making them more likely to accept a Half Mate offer from the database. Even if it’s just aweak match, it doesn’t matter—they won’t be able to deny that we gave it our best shot! So, by sending them to the fair, we’ll have two last-resort options instead of just one."

Ragu coughed and cleared his throat.

"Okay, I see your point. I think it’s a good idea for you to talk to them. Maybe emphasize that they should be more open to accepting proposals, even if it’s for a shorter contract."

I let out a relieved breath. "I don’t want to sound overconfident, but I have a good feeling about it. My intuition is… almost supernatural."

Mr. Ragu coughed impatiently. "I hope it is, I really do, Storm. Oh… I forgot to tell you, there’s one more case in five weeks—a young alpha. If we can’t pair him up, he’ll be your next case."

"For now, I have these four, and I really have a good feeling about the fair idea."

"I’m glad you’re on it. To give you some motivation, if you find at least high matches for these clients, you’ll get one-third of what we’d have to pay them as a fine! Does that sound good?"

Such a high amount?

One-third of all their fines would be over a million! I rubbed my chin, feeling tempted. The money would be a game changer for my life.

Damien… maybe he’d start seeing me as more than just a freak working for a strange company? But I knew I’d have to fight hard for it first.

"That’s… great. I’ll do my best. Just send me their contact details."

"Star lives a few hours away, so you’re in for a bit of a trip," Mr. Ragu muttered.

I felt a twinge of anxiety. I wasn’t sure how things with Damien’s heat would go, but I couldn’t say no to Mr. Ragu—time was running out. It was Monday, and the fair was about to start on Saturday.

So, I said goodbye and hurried over to Damien’s apartment.

He opened the door almost immediately, like he’d been listening for my footsteps again. I gave him a warm smile as I walked in, immediately surrounded by a sweet, tantalizing cloud of his scent.

"Everything okay?" I asked, inhaling deeply. That smell stirred my blood, and I could tell the next wave was close—I’d narrowly avoided being too late for it.

"Yeah, everything’s fine. I finished studying for the exam," he said, hesitating a bit before adding, "And I made dinner for you."

I raised an eyebrow. First pizza, now dinner? Was Damien going out of his way for me… or was he just trying to make the heat period easier? I decided not to overthink it.

I sat down at the table, and he set down a pile of colorful sandwiches. Damien leaned against the counter; his eyes fixed on me as I ate. It looked like he wanted to say something but was struggling to get it out.

"What’s your major?" I asked, even though I already knew it was computer science. I figured it’d be better to let him tell me himself.

"Computer science and visual design," he replied.

"Nice, that’s a solid choice. Must be a lot of work, though, with all those programming languages."

"I focus on a few—C, Python, JavaScript, and Java."

"That’s still a lot! With those skills, finding a job shouldn’t be hard. My cousin Nathaniel runs a programming startup, and two of my brothers work for him as developers."

"Omegas or betas?"

"All alphas."

"Wow, that’s rare. Alphas aren’t usually into programming."

"Yeah, my family’s a bit unusual. So, what are your plans for the future?" I inquired.

Damien shrugged. "I want to work in the mobile game industry. I already have a part-time job at my uncle’s company, DevApp. After I graduate, I’d like to go full-time with them."

Something popped into my mind. I hesitated, but asked, "Why did you offer so little at the beginning? Just $1,000? Was it a test?"

Damien flinched a bit. "Sort of. I had mixed feelings about it. On one hand, I wanted you to pick me quickly, but on the other, I didn’t want you to do it for money…"

I froze. Did Damien misspeak? "What? You wanted me to pick you?"

He watched my face closely, his breath accelerated, but stayed silent.

I frowned. "Damien, what’s going on? Nathaniel told me your offer was only visible to me. Did you… choose me on purpose?"

Damien sighed, averting his gaze. "My best friend is a client of yours. He’s kind of a strange guy by most people’s standards—he’s into cosplay and furries and stuff like that."

It could be the one and only pug role-playing guy…

"The dog-man is your best friend?! What the fuck?!" I stood up, feeling a mix of shock and annoyance.

I vaguely remembered some beta guy sitting next to Damien while they ate at the campus cafeteria. He had a pug-print on his chest, but I obviously hadn’t connected the dots.

But that would be a good fit. The beta was young and seemed rich, judging by his fancy house, so it would make sense for him to keep close to a Lowen. Kinda logical; the rich tend to congregate.

Damien bit his lip. "Yeah. He mentioned that the big guy they assigned to him was a purple alpha. He saw your eyes and your wrists. I got curious and started obsessing over the thought. I just… the idea wouldn’t leave my mind. I’m a rose omega, but I rarely meet purple alphas. I went back and forth for two months before deciding I wanted my first time to be with someone of my own subspecies."

I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. Suddenly, the dog-man’s weird interest in my personal life made sense, as did what Nathaniel had told me about the visibility status of Damien’s assignment.

"He humped my leg before!" I blurted out randomly.

"I know. But he… told me he didn’t do it the last time."

"Yeah, but… it’s still so weird. Are you even into home invasion scenarios?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Not really. But out of all the ideas I could come up with, it was the one that didn’t involve much face-to-face confrontation. I just… couldn’t stop thinking about it. And I’ll admit, I was so confused about what I truly wanted from you. On one hand, I didn’t want you to go for the money, just… for my looks. I stupidly hoped for a miracle that somebody would be attracted to me." His voice quavered. "So it was kind of disappointing when you didn’t pick my assignment on the first day," he added with a grimace.

I let out a loud sigh.

"Damien, I was! I kept staring at your photo like crazy! But I had this whole strategy of avoiding sex commissions in the first place. You were my first. The price being low didn’t help—if I was going to force myself to do it for money, it had to be a lot of money. I didn’t want to sell myself cheap."

"I get that. In the end, it actually worked in your favor. I realized you respected yourself; you weren’t desperate enough to jump at the first cheap assignment."

We both remained silent for a while. Slowly I rubbed my temples and decided to mention it, maybe there was a place for it now?

"You know, it's all so mysterious. How it all started. There were these crazy, weird things happening. It felt like Fate was telling me something, pushing me to choose your assignment. It was all so strange," I murmured, rising my eyes to meet his, still feeling a bit taken aback by the whole conversation.

The fact that he kinda picked me shifted something subtly.

Our meeting wasn't a coincidence after all. Damien wanted me… maybe this was a good sign for the future? He was sort of 'obsessing' over the idea of meeting me for two months, while I did it for four days—shorter, but much more intensely. From the beginning, we were both, in a way, hooked on each other.

Maybe, ultimately, there was a little bit of Fate in all of this?

"Yeah, I felt the same way. Ever since my pug-friend told me about you, it was like something was nudging me to call Dark Dreams. And now, here we are."

We both went quiet again. The air was kinda electric, though.

Neither of us explained exactly what strange things had pushed us to this point, but somehow, we both knew there was something unusual about how we ended up meeting.

"Yeah. Here we are."

I didn’t really know what else to add now. The idea that the ‘dog-man’ somehow played a role in my love life was downright bizarre—but then again, what wasn’t bizarre about it all?

My life had turned into one long parade of weirdness, one crazy situation after another. Honestly, being upset about it wouldn’t change the simple fact that I was sooo glad Damien had reached out to Dark Dreams…

"Anyway," I said, hesitating a moment before glancing around and gesturing casually, "let’s change the subject to something random. And less strange!" I grinned. "Why don’t you live on campus?"

Damien giggled, visibly relieved. He had to feel similar to me. The subject was far too heavy to delve into, not at this stage of our shyly beginning relationship (or was it even a relationship?).

"A good random subject. Well. I can afford to live alone, I like having my own space. I’ve never been super social, you know? I’m not the type to party or hang out with a big group of friends."

"Well, I live alone too, but not by choice. I have a house in the suburbs. It’s pretty much the only thing I got to keep after my ex-husband and I split up."

A heavy silence settled between us. The random subject pretty fast drifted toward awkwardness. Damien looked out the window. "Why did you two break up?"

I grimaced. "I’m not sure if I should get into it—it might freak you out."

"That’s all the more reason you should," he said with a cheeky grin.

I scratched my chin and pondered. Well, it was at least good that we were talking, getting to know each other, wading through the list of important topics that would come up one day anyway, right? A quality time?

Finally, I gave him a short version of what had transpired in the past with my ex and spoke quite honestly about my court case, without censoring the matter or whitewashing myself.

I didn't want to tell half-truths. I only emphasized at the end, "And for the record, I didn’t abuse my husband. I know you only have my word for it, but I’d never hurt an omega. I found him cheating, got mad, and threw his nest off the balcony. I never laid a hand on him."

Damien stared at me for a moment before saying, "I believe you. I feel like you’re telling the truth. Sorry you had to go through all that."

I blinked, a wave of emotions hitting me. This convo was a lot, like… a lot. Damien seemed to pick up on it, furrowing his brows slightly, as if he was surprised, he could feel it.

But I forced myself to speak quietly. "Well, you’ve only heard my side of the story, so I appreciate your trust. But I wouldn’t blame you for doubting me," I added with a shrug.

Damien sighed and shook his head. "I don’t know why, but I just get this feeling you’re telling the truth. And honestly, people can be really nuts. Back in my freshman year, I shortly dated a beta named Alan. You know how everyone warns omegas to avoid relationships with betas because problems always pop up? It’s true. The relationship didn’t last long, Alan was insanely jealous. He’d freak out if I so much as glanced at an alpha. He kept talking about how omegas are unstable partners because of our hormones, like I was supposed to be responsible for how biology works. He even went through my texts, emails, and browsing history to check if I was visiting dating sites. It was suffocating."