UTTERLY HOPEFUL

I woke up with my head pounding and my throat dry—my need to see Damien was getting downright terrifying. My hands were trembling, and my heart was racing like I’d just sprinted a mile. Even a cold shower barely brought me back to my senses. My head was still spinning. What was happening to me?

This shit was really starting to feel like the legendary Pull that True Mates supposedly felt for each other. It wasn’t normal to be so fixated on someone! I’d never felt anything this intense with any of the guys I’d slept with before. This was something else entirely—my whole body felt strung out, like a guitar string pulled way too tight.

I tried distracting myself by going online to read more about this phenomenon. Turned out, the Pull greatly intensified after a few days. And Monday was the fourth day since I’d last seen Damien. Beyond that, it was supposed to get even worse physically: headaches, nausea, dizziness, spiking stress hormones. If it went on too long—say, ten more days—True Mates could even risk losing consciousness, falling into a coma, or… dying.

I stared at the screen, panic bubbling up, but at least there was one comfort: Damien had to be feeling this too. There was no way this was one-sided.

Or… was it?

My answer came soon enough.

While I was half-sitting and half-hanging off the side of my desk, my phone buzzed with a text notification. That little beep shot straight through me, setting my hands trembling even more. I scrambled to grab it and read the three words on the screen:

"Come ASAP!"

Fuck!

I shot up instantly, throwing on a T-shirt mid-run. I fired off a quick text to Mr. Ragu, telling him the situation I’d mentioned was confirmed, and I’d be offline for the next few days. I knew omega heats varied, usually lasting two to five days depending on stress, age, and hormone levels.

Heart pounding, I drove through the city like a maniac, probably breaking a few traffic laws, but I made it in record time—twelve minutes, way faster than before. I sprinted to Damien’s door and pounded on it, not letting up for a second.

Inside, I heard muffled voices—a heated argument I could make out with my heightened hearing.

"…are you crazy?"

"Get out of my way!"

"This is twisted! What’s your problem?"

"I changed my mind—now move!"

My anxiety spiked with every passing second.

"Like hell I’m letting him in—aaagh!"

A strange sound followed, then a man’s high-pitched scream. My pulse skyrocketed, and a tingling sensation in my neck glands told me my body was gearing up to fight. But just then, the door creaked open, and there he was: Damien, looking at me from behind his thick glasses.

The scent of his starting heat hit me like a freight train, sending shivers down my spine. I could even smell his slick.

Damien was only wearing a pale pink T-shirt, and the sight of him like that made my chest ache. It looked like he’d been fucking with someone else. But if that was the case, why had he changed his mind?

"Hey, Damien," I whispered, forcing my voice to sound calm.

I glanced past him and spotted a young alpha, probably around Damien’s age, lying on the floor and glaring up at me with pure fury. He was only in his boxers, and I couldn’t help but grimace. The thought of them hooking up stung, but I had no claim on Damien, so I kept my feelings in check.

"What do you want, loser? Get out," the alpha sneered.

"Well, I was invited," I shot back. "And I’m not going anywhere unless Damien says so."

The alpha growled and tried to push himself up, but he just slumped back down, shaking. I turned to Damien, raising an eyebrow.

"What happened here?"

Damien glanced back at the guy. "He tried to stop me from opening the door. So I… zapped him."

I looked at Damien’s hands, half expecting to see a taser, but he shook his head slightly, smirking.

"I don’t need one."

He held up his hand, and tiny arcs of electricity danced across his fingertips.

My jaw dropped.

I’d heard that some rose omegas had ‘powers’ coming from the genetic legacy of our alien ancestors. Supposedly, the extraterrestrials used telepathy and could discharge electric currents like electric eels. But the rose omegas’ powers weren’t well-studied and varied wildly from one rose omega to the next—some weren’t that obvious, kind of like how purple alphas all had slightly different traits.

I smirked back at him, then turned to the young alpha.

"Now get lost. Damien doesn’t need you anymore."

"No, he doesn’t need you!" the guy spat, his voice shrill and childish.

"If I hear that from Damien, I’ll leave," I said, stepping closer.

The guy growled low in his throat—a guttural sound only alphas could make—a clear warning. But Damien shut him down with a sharp look.

"Garrett, just get out," he said, tossing the clothes over to the alpha. "It’s over."

Garrett growled again, still fuming. "There’s no way I’m letting this slide! I’ll tell your brother—"

Before he could finish, I grabbed him by the arm, yanked him up, and shoved him toward the door. He stumbled into the hallway, but I barely glanced back, ready to shut the door when he yelled:

"Damien! Why the hell did you even call me if you don’t want me? You begged me! I skipped my trip! And now this? Bringing in some other guy? What’s with these stupid games?"

Damien sighed, closing his eyes for a second.

"I'm sorry, Garrett. I didn’t know how to cancel on you after you’d gone to so much trouble. But now that the heat’s started, I realized I can’t do this with you. My body’s resisting it too much. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean for things to turn out like this."

I kicked Garrett’s clothes toward him. He muttered something under his breath, grabbed them, and turned around, but not before throwing me one last glare.

"You’re beyond words! I drove here at dawn, fought through traffic for this? Un-fucking-believable!"

Feeling partly responsible, I stepped in. "Look, this is on me, not Damien. He called you because I turned him down first. If anyone messed things up, it’s me."

Garrett muttered something I couldn’t make out, yanked on his T-shirt, and stormed down the hall. I shut the door and glanced toward Damien.

He was watching me, biting his lip. Then, without saying a word, he turned and walked toward the bedroom. I followed him.

There he sat on the bed, hunched over. His nest was partially trashed, like there’d been a fight—or sex. The sight twisted something deep in my chest, but I couldn’t say anything. I had no right to demand answers from him.

"So, you called, and here I am," I said, trying to keep my voice steady and mask the regret bubbling inside me.

The air was thick with his scent—his heat had definitely started. Even with my suppressants, I could still catch the sharp, sweet pheromones. Seprudin 750 only blocked the Allure, not the heat scent.

I closed my eyes briefly and said with sincerity, "I’m really sorry about all this. I know the mess I dragged you into—"

Damien snorted. "Doesn’t matter now. Garrett’s a hothead, but he’ll get over it. He went through a lot of trouble to be here, which complicated things for me—there was no easy way to tell him I was canceling."

I hesitated before asking, "Is he… your boyfriend?"

He let out a light laugh. "No way. If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t be calling your company. Garrett’s just my brother’s friend. I only contacted him because I was desperate after Mr. Ragu told me you wouldn’t take my commission. Garrett didn’t even want to come at first—he thought my brother would kill him if he found out. But I literally begged him, and he canceled a family trip to the mountains for me. This was before you showed up on campus. I felt like crap about it, and didn’t know how to fix things. Then, when the heat started, he showed up, and… I realized it was a bad idea."

"Did he… try to force you?" I asked cautiously.

Damien raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Force me? No one could force me. I’d zap them with my electricity." His tone was cocky, but honestly, it was kind of hot. Even back on campus when I’d followed him into the bathroom, he wasn’t afraid—I understood now why.

"Actually," Damien continued, "the second he tried to hug me, I started to squeal, almost involuntarily. It felt damn wrong. The poor guy had no clue what was happening, and we just ended up quarreling like idiots. I texted you while we were still arguing." He sighed, rubbing his eyes, frustration etched on his face.

I glanced at the bed again, relieved they hadn’t actually fucked.

"Your nest is a mess," I said softly, lowering my gaze to the disordered fabric. Without thinking, I sat at the edge of the bed and started fixing the damage.

Damien stared at me, wide-eyed. "You don’t have to fix it," he whispered.

"But I want to. This is my fault—my refusal screwed it up for you. You probably won’t get it, but I didn’t want things to spiral like this. I just… I wanted to sleep with you because I desired you, not because you paid me."

He looked at me, his face flushed. My eyes roamed over the rose-shaped birthmark on his cheek.

"I appreciate it now," he said quietly. "Before, though… I was so all over the place, upset, having no idea what to do."

"Fair enough," I admitted. "I knew you might see it as rejection, but that wasn’t it. I just wanted more with you than a… business arrangement."

Damien snorted lightly. "You have no idea how happy I am about this—but only now. Even the fact that you returned the payment. And you did it knowing the money wasn’t a problem for me—you could’ve just taken it and been done with the debt."

"No, I couldn’t, Damien. Nobody seems to get it—not Ragu, not my cousin, not even you. But what we had… there’s no price for that."

His cheeks flushed deeper, his eyes glistening slightly.

"I’m grateful. In a way, you’ve removed the stain I had on my first time. The fact that I had paid for it kinda tainted it, but you restored it. You made it… more normal."

Not knowing what to say, I just stared at the side of his nest.

Then, suddenly, Damien turned his head toward me, swallowing hard. "This is my first heat," he muttered, letting out a deep exhale. "I don’t even know how this is supposed to go."

His previous, slightly cocky attitude softened, and I saw uncertainty in his eyes—and maybe even fear.

"Trust me," I said gently. "I know it’s weird to ask that from a stranger, but I’ve assisted with heats before. I’ll do my best to help you if you’ll let me." My voice surprised me—it was so soft, tender. I hadn’t spoken like that to anyone in a long time, since my first time with an omega I dated in high school. But with Damien, it felt natural.

His big, wide eyes behind those glasses made him look innocent, almost vulnerable.

"I promise I’ll take care of all your needs," I continued. "I want you to feel safe and comfortable, even though we don’t know each other well. I’ll never cross any line you don’t want me to."

We again locked eyes for a long moment.

He swallowed hard, then looked down at my hand resting on the side of the bed. Biting his lip, he slowly, almost shyly, slid his hand toward mine.

I stared at this small hand, inching closer before taking it in mine. A shiver jolted through me as our skin touched, like a spark of electricity. Damien let out a tiny breath, like he’d felt it too.

Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed his warm palm, turning it up to press my lips against it. I moved slowly toward his wrist, where his little scent gland was.

He trembled, his sweet scent intensifying in the air.

My rut was starting—I felt it in every cell of my body. The fragrance of heat always triggered a strong sexual drive in alphas, giving them the stamina needed to keep up with an omega during their heat.

Damien’s breathing grew quick and uneven, his body trembling slightly.

"I’m a little scared," he admitted, his blush deepening. "But at the same time, I can’t stop thinking about one thing."

"What’s that?" I asked with a soft smile.

He rolled his eyes. "You know what."

"Not a clue… reinstating Pluto as a planet?"

"Come on! That’s never happening," he scoffed, but he was smiling now.

I chuckled and said, "We’ll argue about that later. Let me finish fixing your nest first—I want to make it right."

Damien blinked, looking at his partially destroyed rose-petal nest. "Why do you care so much? Alphas usually make fun of nests. My brothers sometimes kick it, just to mess with me."

Shame washed over me, remembering how I used to treat my ex’s nest. But this was different. There was something about Damien’s nest that made me want to protect it—and him.

"They shouldn’t do that," I said firmly. "And I don’t know why, but I just want it to be whole. People say a nest is an omega’s magic, the imprint of their soul."

"Do you really believe that?" he asked softly.

"Maybe I do," I admitted, letting go of his hand and finishing up the repairs. It didn’t take long, but in that time, Damien’s demeanor shifted even more.

He watched me with reddening cheeks, biting his lip. The room filled with the most delicious scent as he fidgeted, like he couldn’t find a comfortable spot. I could tell now, with absolute certainty, that the next wave was coming. I glanced at his pelvis, noticing how he was starting to tilt it slightly back, making small, frantic moves.

Then, he let out a loud huff and unexpectedly leaned back, pulling off his shirt and lying flat on his back. I gaped.

In the light of dawn, I could finally see his whole body, all of him, bare for the first time.

It was a small body, with soft, round, delicate shapes, his breasts were almost translucent pale pink, the tips of his nipples were large and stiff, protruding. The skin of his neck was slightly reddened around the glands, and his small dick was fully erect.

I fixed my eyes on that part, paused my work on the nest for a moment, and immediately felt a strong temptation to take his dick in my mouth. So I sped up and finished the repairs as quickly as I could, my own cock hardening even more. Damien was watching me intently, his lips parted slightly, and in addition to the scent of his pheromones, the sweet smell of his slick hung in the air.

My whole body tensed like a bow ready to shoot; the rut was about to hit me in full force.

Damien seemed to sense this and made a low sound in the AO mating language, signaling his readiness. As I moved along the line of his nest, circling around it, feeling a bit like a preying beast with my eyes focused madly on him. He very slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, began to move his thighs aside, parting them so that I could see what was hidden between them; a treasure waiting for me to claim. My hungry gaze landed on it. I couldn't miss the fact that his entrance looked very different now than it did five days ago. It was more puffy, deeply pink, and the delicate petals surrounding his hole seemed slightly swollen and open. The whole thing was covered in slick, and I just stared… stared at this gate that he had just presented to me in such an extremely erotic way.

"You know, what I said on Thursday was true. All true. Your hole is stunning, perfect and so inviting…" I murmured, my voice hoarse.

"I want you there, deep inside my hole," Damien said breathlessly, his cheeks turning red, I knew he desired this, that this burning need was growing inside him with every passing minute.

In a few quick moves, I managed to get rid of my t-shirt and pants, and I had nothing underneath because I ran here as fast as I could, even my hair was still wet from the shower.

Damien's eyes wandered over my body, curious and slightly embarrassed. I was always self-conscious about my appearance because I didn’t look like a typical alpha.

My body had long lines of purple-pink tissue, similar to dense gelatin, running along all my limbs—top, bottom, and sides. I could push bony spikes through it without damaging my muscles; the tissue was like thick but pliable rubber. My chest also had thin pink lines along my ribs because, in moments of great danger, I could push out extra bone plates to protect my chest and organs.

My body was almost three times as heavy as a typical alpha male’s, due to the hidden extra bones and their unusual density from extreme hypermineralization.

"You’re… impressive," he breathed out, but I couldn’t tell which part of my body he was referring to, since his gaze was flickering between my face and my crotch.

"Are you inviting me into your nest, omega?" I asked, my voice dropping even lower.

"I invite you into my nest, alpha, and into my body."

I took a deep breath and climbed onto the bed, careful not to knock over his rose-shaped nest again—though I suspected it might not survive the next few hours anyway.

My pulse quickened, and Damien’s breathing was rapid and shallow.

The first thing I did when I kneeled between his thighs was to lean forward and take his dick in my mouth, which of course concluded after exactly ten seconds—my mouth being immediately filled with sweet liquid and Damien let out a lovely, prolonged whimper.

However, knowing that this kind of orgasm would only give him temporary relief, I raised my eyes to him and said with a smirk, "You taste delicious, and don't worry, we're just getting started."

His eyes were wide open and staring at me, and he just mumbled, "Please take me. I need more."

Could I refuse? Absolutely out of the question, I bent down, pulled back a bit and slid my hands under his buttocks, our eyes meeting again, "First I have to savor you."

His breathing was already accelerated as I lowered myself and planted a kiss on the protruding folds around his entrance, my tongue making several circular motions, sliding over his swollen petals. His slick was as sweet as liquid sugar; I slid my tongue into him with ease, feeling no resistance there, his pucker fully open.

This signaled that the heat had already begun in full force, he probably had to endure the first wave alone before Garret came. He was loose, the small dildo lying on the blanket next to him certainly helped—now I didn't have to prepare him as much as I would have outside of heat time. I gently slid two fingers inside, and Damien accepted them with ease. He only exhaled slightly with the third, but I knew that was not a problem for him, that the heat was loosening the tissues in the area, preparing his passage to receive the alpha cock.

"I'm going to knot you again," I muttered breathlessly.

"I know, do it, do it," he groaned, spreading his legs even wider and pulling them up to his chest. This inviting, submissive gesture only heated blood in my veins even more.

I moved closer and pressed my cock against his entrance.

"So, shall we begin?"

He nodded, his eyes wide open, defenseless, so accepting.

The next moment, I put the head of my dick against his pink hole and started to push…

What a divine feeling, it was wet, warm, so slippery; I wanted to squeeze in there… But suddenly, I realized I didn't have a condom!

I immediately backed out, angry with myself.

"Damn, I came here in a hurry, I don't have any rubber!"

Damien, also fully immersed in the passion of the moment, cursed under his breath and muttered, "But the company checks you out, they don't hire sick people, right?"

"Well, yes, I had a series of tests when I started working. And I haven't had sex with anyone since."

"And I haven't done it with anyone but you."

I hesitated, what did he mean? "Right… So what's your decision?"

I knew the chances of getting pregnant in the first heat were slim because the uterus wasn't fully mature.

"Do you want to do it without a condom?" he mumbled, wiggling his ass impatiently, his hole opening even more.

"Yes, absolutely, and in any case, as a purple alpha, I have a pretty strong immune system and tissue regeneration anyway, you won't catch anything from me."

"Then… fuck me," he breathed out.

I didn't need any more encouragement, just pressed the head of my cock against his entrance again, and slid into him, drawing a sigh from his throat, and then I thrust—going deeper and finding myself at the very bottom…

…the next second, my body was rocked by the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced in my life!

A blue-white light flashed in front of my eyes, a burst of sparks spread around our bodies like a wide circular wave! My body tensed like a string, spewing streams of cum as a jet of fireworks flew high above us, the sound I made was not even like anything that had ever left a human throat.

"Fuck!" I groaned, shaking.

What had just happened? How could such a powerful orgasm have taken place, unless we were indeed… True Mates.

Damien wasn't in much better shape, but his eyes were shut tight so he probably didn't notice the whole burst of light, he just let out a long, moaning yelp and his dick shot a fountain of cum high into the air, even though he had just come in my mouth two minutes ago!

"Damn, that was… powerful!" I groaned loudly, and then I felt my knot expand rapidly, filling him in a matter of seconds.

"Fuck, fuck…" I mumbled desperately. It wasn't optimal to stretch him from the beginning, but I couldn't help it. So to keep him from seeing my stunned, confused face, I lowered myself and hid my face on his neck.

Still feeling overwhelmed, I had to think quickly, even though the middle of intercourse wasn't exactly the best time for deep reflection. I knew that during heat, it was quite common for partners to come almost immediately after penetration—and Damien was in heat, after all. So, maybe this was just that—a simple heat orgasm?

But on the other hand, this felt far more intense than anything I'd ever experienced before. And the… fireworks? Hmm.

Wait. Damien's ability to control electricity might explain it! I once read an article about an omega who could make his skin glow, and during climax he would lose control and start emitting intense light. It sounded like a perfect, logical explanation, right?

And, after all, I was on strong suppressants that would have blocked the natural TM fireworks experience anyway, so it had to be Damien's rose omega abilities that manifested when he lost control.

A tough dilemma to resolve, huh?

Still, my gut feeling wouldn't let go. No matter how much I tried to rationalize everything that had just happened, my heart was stubbornly convinced that this was IT!

The only question was, did Damien even notice? If so, did he attribute it to the heat increasing the intensity of the orgasms?

I felt kind of stupid, almost lost, it was too unbelievable, right?

Given our unusual situation, I didn't want to embarrass myself by bringing it up, although I was hoping that one of us would eventually say it out loud; I just didn't want it to be me!

So I said nothing and waited for my knot to subside, making shallow, gentle movements. I couldn't see Damien's face because my own was buried in his amaranth curls, right next to his swollen neck gland, which I began to lick and kiss gently, feeling the nagging urge to bite him, but that was out of the question, of course.

For a good ten minutes, I just rocked over him in silence. It was kind of awkward, but I couldn't push myself to start a casual conversation after such an epic orgasm, with my knot still dilated. It would just be too much.

When I finally felt it receding, I began to dive inside him more intensely, making much deeper thrusts but still keeping a moderate pace, enjoying how warm he was and how tightly he held my dick. Only then did I shyly look up at him. Damien kept his eyes closed, his head tilted to the side, exposing his red gland. He submitted completely to my rocking, only breathing quickly. When I looked down, his dick was stubbornly hard, rubbing against my lower abdomen—a typical sign of heat. It was normal to stay aroused throughout the entire wave as the heat increased.

Feeling almost high, I drove into him, gradually speeding up. I knew that omegas could come many times during this period, and I wanted to deliver him as much pleasure as possible.

Soon I was thrusting even more vigorously, but still without using much force. My movements were very smooth in his slippery insides. I leaned forward on my elbows and tried to look into his eyes, but he kept turning his face to the side, as if self-conscious. From time to time, his dick would throb and release tiny amounts of cum as he experienced several small orgasms, one after the other.

My lips moved along his earlobe, nibbling at it, sliding down to his swollen glands, making long lapping motions. I made a point to lick them thoroughly, knowing that omegas loved that kind of stimulation.

Again, when my mouth was directly over the sensitive spot, I had to fight the overwhelming urge to bite him. It was quite a heroic struggle to control myself, especially as I felt a half-voluntary AO sound rise in my throat—one that meant asking for permission to mark. But with a gigantic effort, I managed to stop myself. Something like this should not be done outside of a stable relationship.

To my astonishment, Damien seemed to tilt his head even more, as if to give me full access to his neck, but… I knew better. Such reflexes were no less instinctive than the AO sounds—he must be struggling with them as well. It would be reckless of me to take advantage of his moment of weakness.

But I couldn't stop myself from sucking on a multitude of hickeys on his neck. He kept making soft, sweet sounds, and his dick continued spitting out a few drops every two or three minutes. Apparently, even this subtle form of stimulation gave him a great deal of pleasure, adding to his overall bliss.

So I proceeded to sink into him, enjoying how incredibly wet and hot he was; it was a wonderful, welcoming feeling. I closed my eyelids and just let myself dive, drown in him, realizing that I was not only immersing myself in his body, but to some extent in his mind as well.

The wave of his mental energy flooded my mind.

With a strange sense of clarity, I discovered that he was in deep ecstasy, but somehow, he was holding himself back, as if he was fighting against fully surrendering to the pleasure. It was almost as if it… troubled him!

It hit me—he was still hung up on the fact that this was heat sex with a stranger. We weren’t in a relationship, not even a casual one. All he knew about me was that I had a shady job. This wasn’t how he’d imagined his first heat, and while the sex was great, it wasn’t what he wanted the situation to be.

I could feel his emotions bleeding into me, pulling me into his headspace. The conflict inside him was so raw and tangible. His sadness palpable—he hated that he couldn’t share this moment with someone he truly loved and trusted, not even knowing if I’d stick around after the heat was over—or just disappear, leaving him in the dust.

This was how he saw the whole thing: to him, our epic climax was just an intense orgasm, a first-heat reaction—it could be nothing more, since I was on suppressants. His eyes had been closed the whole time, so he didn’t even register the electrical discharges.

Unfortunately, it wasn't exactly the right time to dive into our relationship—or the lack thereof. I couldn’t start talking about it mid-sex.

But I had to help him deal with it somehow!

So I made a low, calming, soothing sound—the kind alphas use to comfort omegas in distress. It was vibrating, resonating in our bodies, syncing them in a way.

To my shock, such a simple thing, and yet it somehow worked. His mind seemed to clear a bit, and he began to focus on the sensations, on how my shaft was rubbing against his prostate… so I sped up, wanting to increase his pleasure, make him forget the anxious feelings.

A few minutes later, he let out a deep moan and came… but that wasn’t the end!

For the next half hour I kept thrusting into him, my own rut now in full force—I felt invincible, drowning in my own waves of orgasm, my dick permanently hard. I wanted to give Damien as much ecstasy as possible, dissolving his worries, so I just fucked him… and fucked relentlessly.

Overall, it took about two hours, and he came many more times, his belly densely covered with white drops and streaks of his cum…

However, his hands were on the bed the whole time; he didn't put his arms around me even once, which was a little disappointing but understandable in this situation.

When I finally plunged into him one last time, filling him with another huge blast of my cum, and slowly pulled out, the awkward moment came.

Suddenly, Damien opened his eyes and looked at me with some desperation.

"Are you gonna stay with me for the whole heat?"

There was so much unease in his voice, almost like he was afraid I’d just stand up right now and leave on the spot.

"Damien…" Now was finally the time to try to soothe his anxiousness with something more than AO sounds and vibrations. "You can absolutely relax. I can feel how tense you are. Everything’s gonna be fine, I promise!"

"You can’t promise that. Not during the heat," he said, his tone unsteady. Then, with his eyes closed again, he blurted out, "I just want things to be… good, predictable, safe… That’s all I want." There was so much despair in his tone…

"They will be," I said quietly, a hint of melancholy creeping into my voice.

We both knew no one could make promises at a moment like this. It was an unspoken rule during heat—everyone in the ABO society knew it. The raging hormones and our out-of-whack mental state made it too risky.

"When the heat is over, everything will be sorted out. Of course, we shouldn’t discuss the future during a time like this, but for now, please relax and try to enjoy it."

Damien slowly nodded.

There was a temporary moment of silence, as he was attempting to regain his composure.

Then, he suddenly sat up, put on his glasses, and looked at his nest. "It didn’t even fall apart. You actually did a good job reinforcing it."

Noticing his surprised expression, I gave a small, sheepish smile. "Well, I wasn’t exactly great with my exes’ nests before, so… making up for it now."

He kept staring at it. "Nobody’s ever really cared for it before. My nest’s been wrecked so many times—my brothers used to tear it up, and even our butler would leave it all messed up when he took the sheets."

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I stayed quiet. My family didn’t have butlers—then again, we weren’t Lowens.

But there was something I needed to mention. "Listen, I’ve gotta step out for a bit to grab my laptop from the office. I could arrange for the IT tech to come by, but I don’t want him showing up here at your address. Might raise questions since I reached out to you outside work hours."

Damien’s face fell, his eyes wide with panic. "Wait—you’re leaving now?"

His anxiety didn’t surprise me, considering how he’d felt during the sex.

Was this the confirmation of the fears he had? That I might just stand up and leave? The nervous energy radiating from him was sharp and intense, his heartbeat racing like a frightened bird's.

I immediately sat up and reached for his hands, which I slightly squeezed to focus his attention. "Damien, I swear I'll be back. Two hours, tops. I'll just grab some clothes—I'm pretty sure you don't have anything in my size," I added with a small, calming smile.

But he still looked so uneasy, almost teary-eyed, and my protective instincts kicked in. I moved closer and pulled him into my lap, pressing his head against my chest. For a moment, I stroked his hair lightly.

"Hey… Look, I’m leaving my phone here. I never go anywhere without it, so you know I’ll come back, okay?"

Damien seemed to relax into my arms, leaning in just a little, almost like he wanted to snuggle. Well, the phone thing seemed to work like magic. So many people were firmly glued to their cells—it successfully convinced him.

Finally, he gave a slow nod, a cautious smile tugging at his lips for the first time. I grinned, gently squeezing one of his love handles, and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

"You’re cute when you smile."

His cheeks flushed, and he quickly looked away.

"I’m gonna take a shower, then head to the company," I said, tilting my head to try and catch his gaze.

"Okay. Towels are under the cabinet," he muttered, pulling out of my arms.

Not wanting to drag it out, I hit the shower for a quick rinse. When I came out, Damien was in the kitchen, standing there in a long white t-shirt with a blank expression.

"Alright, I’m off. I’ll be back as soon as I can—promise!" I put my phone on the counter within his reach.

His eyes flicked to it, and his expression relaxed. Yup. Who leaves their phone behind if they don’t plan to return?

"Take care," I called over my shoulder before practically sprinting to my car.

I drove straight to Mr. Ren Ragu’s office building. The IT tech was about to head out for fieldwork, but I caught him just in time. He handed me the laptop and said the ‘Cases’ folder had the client files that I should review for potential matches.

With the laptop in hand, I swung by my place to grab clothes and a few essentials. Then, on a whim, I decided to stop at the grocery store. Maybe I could cook something for Damien? It felt kind of random, but I wanted to do something nice for him.

Groceries in the trunk, I headed back to Damien’s place.

He opened the door almost as soon as I got there, like he’d been waiting right behind it.

"You’re back," he said, sounding surprised.

I raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn’t I be? I promised, didn’t I?"

A pained look crossed his face. "I’ve been stood up by alphas before. They’d say, ‘Let’s meet again,’ but then they’d ghost me."

"That sucks," I said, stepping inside with the bags. "But I’m not like them. I keep my word."

I set the bags on the counter. Damien followed, barefoot, in his pink loose sweats and a white t-shirt.

"What’s all this?" he asked.

"I don’t know how long your heat will last, but if it’s more than two days, we’ll need supplies. Thought I’d make lunch while I’m at it—unless you feel another heat wave coming?"

Damien quickly shook his head, a blush creeping up his neck. "Not yet. The heat is just starting. I suppose the waves will get stronger later."

"Got it," I said, clearing my throat. "So, can I cook for you?"

He blinked nervously. "I don’t wanna trouble you—"

"It’s not trouble. I gotta eat too. And I eat a lot!" I grinned.

"Alrighty then." Damien paused, noticing something. "Oh, you brought your laptop."

"Yup," I said, slinging the bag off my shoulder.

"Gotta keep busy during your heat breaks," I added with a shrug.

He raised an eyebrow. "Wait, a new job already? You mentioned it before. Did you actually get it?"

"Sure I did! It’s with a matchmaking agency that also does the marital contract fairs and auctions. I used to work there before… well, before I got into some trouble and ended up at Dark Dreams."

"Really? So, you were actually serious about leaving Dark Dreams?"

I glanced at him cautiously while unpacking the groceries. He had some serious trust issues with what people were telling him. "Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?"

"Omegas hear a lot of bullshit talk from alphas—‘I’ll change,’ ‘I’ll do this,’ ‘I’ll do that’—but it never happens. I’ve been there too many times," he muttered, avoiding my eyes.

I stayed quiet for a moment. His insecurity was so obvious it hurt. Seemed like most alphas didn’t give him the time of day. Sure, he didn’t look like a model, but he had this raw, magnetic charm that I found… addictive. How the hell were they overlooking him?

Damien absentmindedly ran his fingers over his birthmark.

"They stare at it…" he muttered, almost as if answering my silent question.

"Probably 'cause it’s pretty," I said without thinking.

He let out a huff, sounding so annoyed that I decided to drop the topic immediately. It was too early to assure him about what I felt.

For now, he didn’t have a clue what I truly wanted from him. He was in… for a surprise.

But it had to wait.

"Here’s the frying pan," he offered, handing it over when he saw me looking around with a carton of eggs in hand.

"Thanks," I said, taking it. "You know, there’s something you should know about me—I don’t make empty promises. That’s just not my style."

Damien gave me this look, like, Yeah, sure. He clearly wasn’t convinced, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him.

"How about something simple—scrambled eggs with tomatoes and chives?" I proposed.

He gave me a shy smile. "I’m in heat, so I’m not really hungry, but… sure, why not?"

"Yeah, I get it—heat messes with your appetite, but a little food won’t hurt. Eggs are packed with protein, anyway."

"Maybe just a bite," he replied, sounding unsure as he sat down at the table.

I started chopping tomatoes and chives, and he leaned forward slightly. "So, what did you do at the matchmaking agency before?"

"Oh, a little of everything. Back in college, I worked there as a bodyguard, but I wanted to become a matchmaker."

"What’d you study?"

"I majored in Family and Divorce Law and did Counseling Psychology at the same time. It was a lot of work, but I figured matchmaking would be a good mix of both. After I graduated, I started as a junior client assistant and handled some… enforcement stuff on the side because, well…" I gestured to my chest with a smirk. "I guess I look intimidating enough for it."

"Enforcement?" he asked, tilting his head. "Like bodyguard work?"

"Not exactly. The agency has some authority, almost like a court. Our agreements are legally binding, and if someone breaks a contract, we mediate and try to fix things before it goes to court. Sometimes, you’ve gotta nudge a stubborn party—diplomatically, of course. It’s all about avoiding the hassle of court. I got called in for those situations because of, well, my physical presence."

"Huh. So what counts as breaking a contract?"

"The usual—cheating’s a big one. Breaking a no-infidelity clause comes with massive fines, sometimes more than the contract itself."

He nodded slowly. "What else?"

"Lying—like hiding a criminal record, infertility, or a serious health issue. That can void the whole deal, and the violator has to pay up. Then there’s abuse. If an alpha hits an omega, the penalties are harsh. It’s almost guaranteed jail time."

"Wow," Damien muttered, resting his chin on his hand. "That’s one upside of those contracts. Regular relationships don’t have those kinds of protections. If an alpha hits their omega in a regular marriage, the omega rarely gets justice."

"Exactly. That’s why these contracts are so popular now. People want clear rules and real consequences. Regular marriage? Not so airtight."

Damien looked thoughtful. "Who usually signs up for them?"

"All kinds of people. A lot of older, wealthy alphas looking for omegas to start a family. Then you’ve got older omegas with careers who don’t want flaky alphas—they’ll buy long-term contracts with younger alphas who’ll stick around."

"Interesting. What about betas? Do they buy contracts with alphas or omegas?"

"Pretty evenly split," I said with a chuckle. "Some betas like being on top, some prefer to bottom," I added with a wink.

Damien nibbled on his lip, then mumbled, "I prefer to bottom," like it just slipped out.

There was this charged silence. What do you even say to that? For a second, our eyes met, and I swear something passed between us.

Then he cleared his throat. "Are beta contracts even popular?"

"Totally. Not everyone wants kids, and betas make great partners—steady, balanced. Perfect for older omegas or alphas with kids from previous relationships, or just someone to grow old with."

Damien nodded, scratching his nose with a slight pout on his lips. I couldn’t stop watching him. He was so… different. No flashy act, no trying too hard. Just real. And honestly, that was more attractive than I’d expected.

I plated up the scrambled eggs and set them in front of him. "Here you go."

He looked up at me with this shy flicker in his eyes. "Thanks."

I sat next to him and grabbed my fork. "Dig in."

"You know," he said, "people my age really don’t like those marriage contracts."

I snorted. "Yeah, it’s still a thing among younger folks. There used to be way more prejudice against them because the rules weren’t as strict back in the day. But now, they’re a lot safer, and more people are signing up—especially with legit agencies."

"Some people think it’s like slavery," he said, frowning.

I laughed. "Slavery? Only with illegal contracts. A legal one is more like a business deal—both sides have to follow the rules."

Damien didn’t reply, finishing his eggs as a blush crept slowly up his cheeks.

I knew exactly what that meant, got up and put my plate in the dishwasher.

"Mind if I hop into the bathroom real quick?"

"Sure," he muttered, not meeting my eyes.

I showered and changed, then came back to the kitchen to find Damien still sitting there, staring at the counter, his breathing quick and shallow.

I walked over and gently placed a hand on the back of his fine neck, brushing a finger over his pink, swollen glands. "Damien, shall we go to the bedroom?"

A slight frown crossed his face, like he was embarrassed.

"You don’t have to feel awkward asking me. I’m here to help, I’m here for you…" I murmured, running my fingers under his soft curls.

He let out a small, breathy sound.

I crouched beside his chair, sliding my arms under his knees and back to pick him up. He squeaked softly but didn’t protest.

When I carried him into the room, I saw he’d repaired and improved the nest. I stopped, amazed.

"Your nest looks even better—it’s so beautiful!"

Damien blushed, resting his head on my shoulder. It felt… nice. Sweet. I could get used to this.

"Thanks," he muttered shyly. "I’m glad you like it."

"I don’t just like it—I love it."

"I tried my best…"

"And it shows."

I gently placed him in the center of the nest and then undressed, noting in passing that I was already hard; the rut was working flawlessly.

"Present yourself to me," I said in a low voice, feeling my pulse rising.

Damien wordlessly took off his shirt and pants, which turned out to be completely soaked around his buttocks, and I could smell the intense, tantalizing scent of his slick.

Seconds later, without another word, Damien got down on all fours, pushed his buttocks up in a very distinctive breeding position, and rested his head on the pillow. It was so submissive… like an erotic offering. I could almost physically feel him surrendering to me, and my dick immediately began to throb.

His hole looked even better now! It resembled a pink open flower, protruding slightly between his buttocks.

"You're beautiful down there, I need to taste you again."

I clung to his swollen petals with my mouth, licked them, sucked them, kissed them, it gave me incredible bliss—and apparently he loved it too—for he moaned softly, adorably, even making a sound that signals pleasure in omegas, a popular one called: "Appreciation" in the AO mating language.

"Such a lovely, lovely hole, hidden between those big white spheres," I murmured, massaging it with my tongue and lightly stroking his soft buttocks, "I'm going to plunge in there and fuck it until it drips with my cum," I mumbled in a cringy way.

"Then do it," he moaned, wiggling his round, sizable ass a little. I playfully patted both of his ass cheeks, squeezing them lightly, kneading them, wiggling them a bit, loving the play, appreciating his softness. They were so fleshy and swaying, how could I refuse to jump between these two plush cushions?

I lifted myself up and, without waiting, aligned my dick with his entrance, he didn't need any more preparation, not at this stage of heat. So I thrust into him, feeling the pleasure spread through my body, even if I didn't come right away, I was dangerously close.

"Damn, I feel you real good," I moaned, clenching my eyelids, "Oh, Damien, you're so silky and velvety in there, I love fucking you, I love it—" I mumbled.

Damien made a deep sound of approval, and his hole clenched as his body was shaken by the first wave of an orgasm. Excited, I began to speed up inside him, in this position I could grab his chubby buttocks, play with them, tease them and fuck his hole at the same time. He was loud, a whole serenade of sounds came from his lungs, his narrow passage became tighter and tighter at regular intervals, rippling and pulsating as he climaxed, his tunnel rhythmically milking my dick.

Of course, I came soon after, but the rut gave me the stamina to keep going, to stay hard as I kept fucking him… Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his neck, sucked on his gland, left another hickey there, and fucked and fucked, and fucked him relentlessly…

My hips moved vigorously, thrusting all the way in. My pubic bone pressing against his pink, swollen petals as I went deeper and deeper. I could hear the sounds of our bodies colliding in the room. Damien grunted as I lowered my other hand under his belly, feeling his cock spurting drops of cum every few minutes—he was coming again and so easily. So I continued; our bodies covered in sweat, our breaths beginning to hitch before I finally came too, and we both sank back onto the bedding, panting like a pair of hunting dogs.

Instinctively, I wrapped my arm around him, even though he was lying on his stomach with his head turned the other way. I just felt this need to stay in some kind of contact with him.

And then there was silence again. I was never good at post-coital chitchat—maybe because I never had much to say. I’d never confessed my feelings to anyone; I usually sank into that post-orgasmic state of silent numbness.

The awkward quiet was broken by the sound of a text message. I’d forgotten my phone was on the table—Damien must’ve put it there after I handed it to him earlier.

It was a text from Nathaniel: "How's it going with you? You've gone oddly quiet. Any progress?"

I bit my lip lightly. "I would say so. Assisting."

"Great. Please, don’t fuck it up!"

"Always the pessimist."

"I just know how your mind works—overcomplicating simple things."

I was ready to reply with quite a snarky remark, but another message came in right after, and I cursed. This one was from Mr. Ren Ragu: "Did you manage to review the profiles of those clients whose contracts expire in the next two weeks? It's the most urgent matter."

I cursed under my breath, feeling a mixture of impatience and relief. At least it saved us from awkward conversations after sex.

"Damien," I said, showing him the phone screen to make it obvious I had a good excuse to get up. "My boss needs me to handle this. I have this task, matching a few difficult clients, I can’t say no, especially since he’s been kind enough to let me work remotely for the next few days."

"Of course," Damien said quickly, sitting up with a look of relief on his face too. Maybe he had the same dilemma I did? Conversations right after amazing sex could easily lead us into risky territory—questions about our future together.

I got out of bed and said, "I’ll take a quick shower and get to work. I might set up my laptop at the kitchen table since your desk is kinda small. Hope you don’t mind?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, sure. The waves usually last a few hours, so there's plenty of time."

He suddenly bit his lip, looking downright uncomfortable coordinating my work with his heat, but I gave him a reassuring smile.

"Don’t worry. I’ll be ready when you need me. I’m not planning to miss out on all the fun…" I grinned, realizing I sounded almost too casual, like we were closer than we actually were. Damien blushed and averted his gaze.

I headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower, I came back to the kitchen and found Damien on the phone with a pizzeria.

He glanced at me, pulled the receiver away from his ear, and asked, "What kind of pizza do you like? I’m ordering."

"But wait, you said you don’t have an appetite…"

He blushed again. "I’m ordering for you."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his initiative. "Okay, thanks. Just a basic thin-crust pizza is good."

I sat down at the kitchen table and opened my laptop, curious to see which Fate's Choice customers had contracts expiring the soonest.

"Do you think you’ll find good matches for them?"

"I don’t know, but I’ll give it a shot. My gut’s usually pretty spot-on. I’m really curious to see who these clients are, though. I mean, when I worked as a matchmaker before, contracts almost never expired without matches. Fate’s Choice is seriously in trouble."

Damien hesitated for a second before asking, "Can you show me their photos?"

I smiled a little nervously. Sharing client profiles could land me in hot water if anyone found out, but honestly, this felt like a great way to bond with Damien. Natural and just… a normal way to get to know each other.

And let’s face it, if my gut feeling were right, it’d be worth the risk. Even if I lost this job, I could gain something much more valuable.

"Okay, but you have to promise me you’ll keep this to yourself. These files are confidential, and the clients are trusting us to protect their personal info."

"Of course!" Damien looked genuinely excited as he pulled up a chair next to me. He still hadn’t showered, and the mix of our scents—raw, intimate, and utterly distracting—hung in the air. I swallowed hard. Focus, Storm .

The first client file popped up: Star Daniels.

"Wow," Damien muttered, his eyes wide. "This guy has trouble finding a match? Seriously? Look at him—he’s stunning!"

He wasn’t wrong. The omega in the picture looked flawless—young, with perfect features, full lips, and long hair dyed platinum blond. His eyes were such a dark navy blue they almost looked black.

"Yeah, omegas like him usually don’t struggle with matchmaking. Their contracts go for huge amounts. But there’s always a catch."

I clicked through the tabs, and my stomach sank when I found it. I sighed, pointing it out to Damien.

"Oh, there it is. Damn. He’s a former sex worker. Worked as an escort for a year, then spent another year stripping. He left the club last year to finish a degree in public health, and now he’s a phone consultant for Malden Pharmaceuticals. So yeah, basically working for your uncle." I chuckled, finding the connection mildly amusing. "Anyway, Star’s looking for a husband now, but—"

"But what? Someone’s gotta want him," Damien said, frowning. "People go through stuff—it doesn’t mean they’re not worth loving."

"True, but you know how alpha clients can be—total hypocrites. If they pay a fortune, they expect a ‘perfect’ partner. Preferably a virgin. And then there’s the data. Relationships like this don’t have the best stats. A lot of them end in early contract terminations."

"What stats?"

"Fate’s Choice collects this kind of info. Matches where one partner has a history of sex work tend to be shorter and more likely to fall apart. It’s just the way things go."

"Why?"

"I don't know. On the buyer side: trust issues and a lot of 'accepting the past' failures."

"That’s so messed up. I mean, some people get forced into sex work. What are they supposed to do?"

I sighed. "I know. But honestly, most agencies discourage people like Star from even trying to enter contract fairs because it’s just… tough. High chance of being disappointed, or mistreated. Of course, Fate's Choice being greedy, probably saw a chance to make some quick money from the brokerage fees—"

"And now they’re in trouble."

"Yeah, pretty much. Let’s look at the next file."

The second profile popped up on my screen, and Damien leaned closer, his excitement palpable. His cheeks were flushed, making him look ridiculously adorable.

"Darien Ferro," I read aloud.

"This guy’s forty-two, but damn, he’s still so good-looking," Damien murmured.

I nodded, studying the photo. The omega had striking green eyes, jet-black long hair, and a complexion that still looked fresh despite his age. His features were flawless—elegant, almost timeless. A weird chill ran down my spine as I stared at the picture. It was so intense I actually gasped. For a moment, a crazy thought flickered in my mind, like I somehow knew who his True Mate was. But I quickly shoved the thought aside. That’d be too much of a miracle.

"Yeah, but for some reason, his contract hasn’t been finalized either."

Damien tilted his head. "Did he also work in the sex industry?"

"Nope. Completely different story." I scanned through his profile. "When he was eighteen, he won some college pageant—Mister Freshman. A millionaire bought his contract for a record-breaking amount. But that guy passed away last year, and now Darien’s trying to sign a new contract. It’s odd, though. He inherited a huge fortune, so he doesn’t really need this. There’s gotta be more to the story. Cases like his are super rare."

Damien leaned closer, his brow furrowed as he studied the fields. "Maybe he doesn’t want to be alone. He spent so many years with an older guy—perhaps now he wants someone younger."

"Could be." My eyes skimmed over the rest of the profile, and something caught my attention. "Oh, here’s something—he’s infertile. But at his age, that’s probably not a dealbreaker for most buyers."

Something else caught my eye. "But check this out—he’s rejected nineteen match proposals. Fuck, nineteen! That’s probably the real issue. He’s just super picky."

"Not surprising," Damien said with a giggle. "He was Mister Freshman, after all!"

"Right? Yeah, I definitely need to have a serious talk with this one."

"Ferro…" Damien tapped his chin, thinking. "That name rings a bell. Isn’t it the name of the mafia family in the city? My uncle Blue told me some stories about them."

"Maybe it’s a coincidence?"

Damien pulled out his phone, searching quickly. After a moment, he turned the screen toward me, showing me an article: ‘Mafia Retired Boss Dies After Cancer.’

"Look, it says Alberto Ferro was a mafia capo for a few years after his father died. Then his brother Angelo took over. And get this—Alberto remarried when he was sixty. His husband’s name was… yep, Darien!"

"Wait, so Darien’s a widower of a former mafia boss? That’s wild."

"Yeah, but it was ages ago. Says here Alberto only led the family for three years. Guess it wasn’t his thing, so he let his brothers handle it. Now, his nephew is in charge—Anzo, a beta!"

"A beta is in charge of the mafia family?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah, how rare. I heard from my uncle that Anzo is a strong supporter of the whole Beta Empowerment movement." Damien looked through the article. "And he killed his two older brothers. Allegedly! "

"Seems like a ruthless guy."

"Pretty much. Anyway, Darien’s husband, Alberto, stayed out of the spotlight for the last twenty years—knew some big-name politicians, did some charity, but that’s about it. He wasn’t active in the family business." Damien frowned thoughtfully. "Still, it’s weird Darien went through a matchmaking agency."

"Right? Why even bother? He could find a new husband easily if he wanted."

"I guess you’ll figure out his reasons soon."

"Yeah, I have to have a convo with him, that's for sure!" I said with a sigh.

"What about this next one?" Damien asked, pointing at another photo partially visible in the corner of the gallery.

I clicked on it and pulled up the details. "Day Sanderson… Whoa, he’s had eight previous contracts. That’s pretty rare!"

"If he’s had eight, they must’ve been short contracts. He’s only thirty-four," Damien said, biting his lip as he leaned in closer.

I scrolled through the profile, curiosity getting the better of me. "Oh, I see why. This omega was involved in surrogacy. Basically, his contracts were temporary—people hired him for a year or so, but his real job was to be a surrogate. He got paid to carry pregnancies."

"Wait, how does that even work? Aren’t the couples usually married when they buy a contract? I thought those ‘second husband’ contracts were banned years ago when they outlawed polygamy to boost genetic diversity."

"You’re right, but there’s a loophole. If one partner in the couple is infertile, they’re allowed to enter a second marriage contract."

"Ah, got it. So they used the loophole, and now this guy has eight ex-husbands. What’s he looking for now? Another one?" Damien narrowed his eyes, staring at the screen. "It says here there were complications with his last pregnancy."

"Yeah, it’s in the file—premature birth, very low birth weight… Oh, and he got caught smoking during the pregnancy. The last couple accused him of breaking the contract terms, and he had to pay a huge fine. Maybe he’s desperate to make that money back with a new contract."

"Do you think he wants another surrogacy deal?"

"No idea. He wouldn’t state that openly, though."

Damien rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. "He doesn’t look as good as the others," he muttered.

I couldn’t argue with that. Compared to the previous two, this omega was in rough shape. His grayish, unhealthy complexion and dark circles under his eyes made him look sickly, almost anemic. His face seemed drawn and tense, and his eyes unfocused on the camera, restless, like someone who’d been through a lot. Maybe he’d been handsome when he was younger—his features were regular enough—but now he just looked exhausted, even emaciated.

"I’ll have to talk to him too," I said. "If he’s hoping for another surrogacy contract, it’s going to be tough with his medical history. No one’s going to take that risk."

"He looks like someone struggling with depression," Damien said softly.

We sat in silence for a moment before Damien broke it. "Maybe he’s just lonely."

"Probably. Like a lot of people," I muttered under my breath, and Damien shot me a quick look, biting his lip as if to add something, but decided against it.

I scrolled to the next profile. "And here’s the last one. This one’s… a beta. And what an interesting name: Salt!"

"Whoa!" Damien leaned forward, his intense gaze locking on the screen.

"Yeah. Whoa," I agreed.

The beta’s face was striking, to say the least. One side of his head was shaved, and the other half was dyed electric blue. His eyes were mismatched—one jet black, the other gray, like a stormy sky. Tattoos of predatory insects—maybe spiders—crawled up his neck and onto his face, while piercings decorated his nose, eyebrow, and ears. Objectively, he had handsome, sharp features, but the edgy style wasn’t exactly mainstream. He reminded me of someone, but I had a hard time remembering who it might be.

"This is a first for me," I admitted. "I’ve only heard about cases like this before!"

"What do you mean?" Damien asked, glancing at me.

"Sometimes, the government lets criminals enter marriage contracts under special programs."

"Criminals? Shouldn’t they be in prison?" Damien blinked in surprise.

"Normally, yeah, but there are exceptions. If they’re part of a government initiative like Second Chance, they can serve their sentence at home with an ankle monitor. According to the file, this beta’s serving time for murder. Oh, wait… quadruple murder!"

My pulse quickened as I read the details. Damien was so close now I could smell his scent—sweet, warm, and totally distracting.

"He’s twenty-two, same as Star," Damien murmured, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah. Says here Salt killed four alphas who supposedly murdered his brother. There wasn’t enough evidence against the alphas, but the case against him was solid. He barged in on them bragging about how they’d raped and killed his brother and just… shot them, one by one. The Second Chance agency got him into this program for ‘redeemable’ criminals."

"It’s hard to imagine. A quadruple murderer?" Damien muttered, shaking his head.

"Apparently, contracts like his are cheap and come with great terms. But there’s more—it says here Salt is part of another program, and that info’s… classified." I clicked the ‘See More’ link, but it was locked. "I’ll have to call Mr. Ragu for details. Finding someone willing to marry a quadruple murderer? That’s gonna be a nightmare."

Damien chuckled. "This is insane. This guy might actually be harder to match than the ex-escort omega!"

"Oh, definitely. Looks like Fate’s Choice took Salt’s contract because the government paid extra. They’re really losing it—taking huge risks for money!"

Damien turned to me; his expression serious. "Your job isn’t easy. Even I can see that, and I barely know anything about matchmaking."

I met his gaze, and for a moment, we just stared at each other. His eyes held an unexpected warmth that made my chest tighten.

"It’s tough," I admitted. "If I mess this up, Mr. Ragu won’t hire me as a matchmaker."

Damien’s eyes widened. "Then… you’d have to go back to working at Dark Dreams?" His voice was quiet, almost shaky.

His concern made my heart race. Did he actually care?

Choosing my words carefully, I said, "No, Damien, I won’t go back to Dark Dreams. I know a job like that lowers my chances of finding… someone for… a real relationship. I can’t expect anyone to… accept this type of work in his partner."

Damien quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing. "Yeah, for m—I mean, for many people, that’d probably be a dealbreaker."

He almost said for me . I was sure of it.

Our hands were so close, but I couldn’t bring myself to reach out. That would be too much—too intimate.

We weren’t a couple. And we couldn’t be, not until I secured this job.

My eyes landed on him, watching his cute profile with a slightly upturned nose as he stared at the screen. I really hoped I wasn't reading too much into it. He could just be relieved that I was helping him through his heat. Did he truly want to start something with me?

Damien's eyes shot to mine, caught me in the act of staring, and quickly dropped down again. Well, he also couldn't be sure if I really wanted more from him.

We were circling each other, testing the waters, neither of us fully grasping what the other wanted.

The doorbell interrupted my thoughts. The pizza had arrived.

Damien took the box from the delivery guy and set it down in front of me with an apologetic smile.

"Go ahead, eat the whole thing. I can’t fit any more in."

"Are you sure? Not even a bite?"

"Yeah, go on, eat it all."

I started eating, and he stood leaning against the kitchen cabinet, looking pensive. It was obvious there was a lot going on in his head, a slight frown forming in his brows. He was closely watching me stuff my mouth because, as a purple alpha, I had a very healthy appetite. I felt a bit uncomfortable being the only one eating, but I knew I wouldn’t convince him to join me.

Once I was done, I said, "Well, now I have to start going through the client database, those who have been registered so far in the list of potential contract buyers. This entry in the database is separate from the listing with the offers, of course, and much larger."

"Sure, I won’t bother you. I’ll go take a shower, and then I’ll study because I have an exam next week."

I nodded, and Damien left the kitchen, his face still quite pensive.

I glanced over the faces of my four ‘challenges’ once again and then started going through the list of clients, but somehow without much enthusiasm. It was hard for me to focus.

The air was filled with the pleasant scent of Damien’s heat, which certainly didn’t make it easier for me to concentrate on work. Finally, after an hour, I managed to select a dozen or so candidates who theoretically could meet the expectations of those clients, but I wasn’t convinced about it. I couldn’t focus well, my body slightly trembling.

I knew that in order to do something about it, I might have to go back to my place to calm down.

But I also remembered how anxious Damien was, so it was a dilemma.

With some hesitation, I replied to Mr. Ragu that I had started analyzing the database and would give him an answer soon, although I was pessimistic.

After another hour of frantic and haphazard notes, I heard footsteps, and Damien stood in the doorway. I knew immediately what he wanted; his cheeks were flushed.

Our eyes met—that was all I needed to know.

I immediately got up and walked over to him, bent down, grabbed his thighs, and lifted him into the air. And so, with him in my arms, I walked into the room to put him on the bed.

This time, however, I decided to do what I had always wanted to do—move us forward, start building more than just the physical part…

So, I leaned over him slowly, and kissed him for the first time on the lips—his soft, tender lips.

He made a charming sound of surprise, but immediately opened them and our tongues met; the kiss was very sweet and pleasant, but his temperature was rising quickly, as was my arousal.

We were still very much in the physical part, the other part was only shyly waking up, so I just went with it.

With one motion, I pulled up his long T-shirt, realizing he had nothing underneath, I slid my hand between his legs, feeling his hardness, and underneath I found his wet, throbbing hole, waiting for me to fill it. I could feel how wide open he was, so I didn't hesitate. I pressed my cock against his opening and plunged in…

We both moaned, and I started to fuck him: fast and intense, looking for the first orgasm. And sure enough, thirty seconds later, he came all over my stomach.

During the rut, the alpha could usually come very quickly too, although a little less often than the omega, but we could go on without feeling hypersensitive. And that's what happened this time after I came. I didn't collapse on the bed or on top of him, I grabbed his hips and turned him over so he was in the riding position.

Then, with one tug, I ripped his T-shirt completely off and threw it aside.

I could feel the surprise in him, so I asked, "Are you okay with this position?"

Damien looked a little panicked, but replied, "I'm not sure I can handle the fitness, I'm a little chubby…"

"What is certain is that you are cute and very sexy in your… chubbiness," I replied with a silly grin, running my hands over his cute, soft belly.

His cheeks, always red anyway, were now almost beet red.

"Stop it…"

"I won't, you're so delicious. So pretty!"

Damien giggled and put his hands to his face, looking both embarrassed and giddy.

"Don't worry about the fitness part, I'll help you, Damien, I'll do most of the work for you."

Then I held out my hands for him to lean on, and he began to move tentatively, it took him a while to get into a steady rhythm, but eventually, he found his pace. The heat held him tightly in its grip, adding to his endurance. He clenched his eyelids and threw his head back, his round hips rising and falling. He took in my entire length. It was a beautiful, juicy sight; his body was so soft, slightly rounded, but his nipples were hard and his small penis so proudly protruded.

Watching him, I realized that I found Damien incredibly beautiful —he was flawless in my eyes, even if he wasn't conventionally handsome to others, but I loved absolutely everything about him!

I immersed myself in the spectacle of watching him in ecstasy, his lips parted, and his glasses slightly fogged, but I dared not suggest that he take them off. Besides, he looked like a charming nerd!

Suddenly, he let go of my hands and raised his own behind his head, assuming an even more erotic pose. I took the moment to place my hands on his hips, lightly squeezing the soft skin that yielded to my touch, then wrapped my fingers around his dick… He reacted immediately, letting out a short moan, and a few drops of his cum spurted into the air.

Now that the heat was ripe, he was able to come even more easily and experienced a series of frequent orgasms.

I found myself more and more lost in watching him, observing every move he made, every lift of his hips with true fascination. I listened to the soft, sweet sounds he made as he rode my shaft. I felt something tighten in my throat because I wanted it to last, I wanted to see him like this every day… Would he still want to know me when his heat was over?

As if sensing my concern, he tilted his head and looked straight into my eyes.

Almost involuntarily, I whispered, "Damien, Damien…"

"I don't even know your name."

Fuck!

I gasped in shock because it was true! I was already making plans in my head how to get him interested in me, how to make him stay in my life, and I hadn't even told him my name… A major fuckup!

"Storm Aiden Nolan."

He smiled subtly, and as he lowered his hands, in a strange impulse, I grabbed both of them and squeezed them lightly; those moments when we were having sex were the only times I felt I could allow myself some intimacy.

"Perfect name for a purple alpha…" he breathed out as he continued to rise and fall over me.

"Where there's a storm, there's always… electricity," I muttered, hoping for it to sound meaningfully.

He smiled broadly, and then I saw a small wave of electrical discharges flicker across his chest, neck and face, a truly fascinating spectacle. Damien rode me for a while, with a subtle smirk, before he closed his eyelids and… came again; I quickly followed.

Only then did he slowly sink down onto my chest, his lips close to my neck for a moment, just above my gland, and I heard him whisper, "You're on the strongest pheromone suppressant, aren't you?"

"Yes, I have to be. Dark Dreams policy."

He didn't say anything, just kept his lips on my neck.

Then there was this loaded silence again. When I looked at him one more time, I noticed that his eyes were closed.

"Damien, I have to leave for about two hours, but I promise I'll be back. Will you believe me this time? Will you trust me?"

He nodded slowly. I could tell he was calmer now, and that made me happy. We were building something, after all. Small steps.

***

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."

"Wow, that's messed up. I've heard that too: avoid relationships with betas unless it's just, let's say… casual sex. Betas think we'll leave them after sniffing our perfect mates, that we'll cheat on them right away."

Damien chuckled. "They’re kind of right, though. The statistics are brutal. Only a tiny percent of beta relationships with other subgenders succeed."

"Well, one of my brothers, Skye, is currently interested in a beta, and I’m really curious how it’ll turn out. But in his case, it seems to have a pretty high chance of working out."

"How do you know?"

"I suspect the guy is his True Mate. But neither of them realizes it yet, which isn’t surprising since it’s such a rarity—the beta-alpha TM thing."

There was a moment of silence, and I cleared my throat. "So, was Alan your only boyfriend?"

Damien made a grimace. "It’ll sound stupid, like I didn’t learn anything, but I tried again… with a different beta."

I raised my eyebrows and chuckled. "Well, well. What a surprise."

"Yeah… even I was surprised by myself, but in my defense, Tony was a real looker."

"Aren’t they all!" I snorted bitterly. "I fell for the ‘good-looking’ trap too."

"Yeah. It happened a year ago. I told him straight up that he needed to accept that I’m not like him if we were gonna be together. I filled Tony in on the whole Alan situation, and things seemed fine. Until I hit what they call preheat. It lasted maybe an hour; some omegas get it a year or two before the real deal. Tony didn’t take it well—it freaked him out big time. I think that’s when reality smacked him in the face. Two months into dating, we called it quits. With none of them, nothing ever went beyond handies. They were both super insecure about sex with omega. That whole situation killed any hopes I had of being with a beta. Like, ever."

"Why didn’t you try a relationship with an alpha?"

He laughed bitterly. "It’s not that I didn’t try. There are maybe four alphas in my year, and they’re swarmed by other omegas! And I’m not very social, I don’t party, don’t go out with friends, so I didn’t have many opportunities to meet any other. Even if I sat next to one in the cafeteria, well, I’m not the most attractive omega to tempt them, that’s for sure," he said with a wry grin.

"They must have been blind because, to me, you’re very attractive. From the moment I saw your picture, I couldn’t stop staring at you," I said in a low voice.

His eyes met mine for a second, then he looked away. I saw a strange expression on his face, like he wanted to say something but bit his tongue at the last moment. Finally, he sighed and shrugged.

"What about you? Have you ever tried a relationship with a beta?"

"Not a relationship, but I, uh… did sleep with a few," I admitted, not wanting to dwell on it.

But he wasn’t letting it go. "And probably a lot of omegas?"

"I don’t know if it was a lot, but… there were a few, also."

"Double digits?"

I cursed under my breath. "Yep. You know, I’m a purple alpha—people sometimes get curious…" I cleared my throat.

Damien stared at me intently. "And alphas? Did you… also?"

I swallowed hard. "Yep, a few of those too."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? So, the whole spectrum, all subgenders?"

"At the beginning, as an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old, I wasn’t picky, but that changed in my early twenties. I wanted more than just being a fetish. Then I met Tom, and for the whole two years, I’ve only been with him. And for the last six months, I wasn’t even trying to date. I was in a bad mood after my divorce."

Damien’s eyes were fixed on my face, and I sighed.

"But you’re my first rose omega, remember? I’ve never been with any other."

His cheeks reddened slightly, and he slowly nodded.

"I remember…"

For a moment, I stared at him, hesitating. Uh, what the hell, I decided to say it!

"You know what? Out of all the people I’ve been with, I love it with you… the most!" And I smiled sheepishly.

I wasn’t even lying—I didn’t need to. The chemistry we had was absolutely insane; I’d never had so many orgasms before, so that was saying something.

Damien stayed quiet, just staring at me, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated. I felt it building inside him, like a huge wave coming. Even though his cheeks hadn’t flushed yet with the typical redness of a heat wave, I knew it was very close.

That’s why I slowly stood up and approached him.

Damien tilted his head up so he could still meet my eyes. They seemed again trusting, vulnerable. I lifted my hand and ran it over his cheek slowly, sensually. I saw him tremble slightly and close his eyes. He stayed silent, letting me caress his skin where his birthmark was. And the wave kept building and building inside him…

"I want you so much, Damien," I whispered. "I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you. I’m a purple alpha. And you’re a rose omega. We complete each other."

I watched as his eyes snapped open, his pupils dilating until they almost eclipsed his graphite-sapphire irises.

He slowly raised his hand and placed it on my chest, whispering softly, "You’re so big, so much stronger than me."

"I’m like this to protect my omega."

"And I’m so small," he murmured, something flickering in his eyes—a bit playful, almost seductive.

I smirked. "Yes, and that’s wonderful. You’re so very, very cute."

"You’d never hurt me…?" He tilted his head quizzically.

"No, never, Damien. You are to be cherished. And to be given a lot of… pleasure."

There was a moment of silence before he whispered, "Can we go to the bedroom?"

"Your wish is my command."

His face lit up. I smiled slightly, leaned down and picked him up again. I didn't know why, but carrying him gave me so much pleasure.

As I entered the room, I saw that Damien had rebuilt the nest…again!

It was even more elaborate this time. He'd added two green blankets to simulate leaves around the rose and a dark green ribbon for reinforcement. Now it was a truly refined and solid construction.

I set him down and said, "Wow, your nest is becoming more and more spectacular. It’s… blooming. Like you."

I could see he was pleased with my words. He blushed, and his mouth stretched into a delighted smile.

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes, it’s an absolute work of art. It really is so… you. Like a part of your soul is here."

He looked straight into my eyes, and I looked into his. For a moment, we just stared. Then suddenly I reached for him and he reached for me. I picked him up again and stepped carefully into his nest.

"Such a perfect place to make love," I murmured, using the words on purpose.

And of course, the first thing I did was kiss him—but this time I resisted the urge to turn it into a sexual kiss. It wasn't wild anymore, but gentle, soft, tender. Like lovers, like boyfriends.

At the same time, this persistent thought kept creeping back into my mind: was I acting ahead of myself, advancing into a more subtle intimacy?

After all, still nothing had been said between us, no promises made. There was no way we could make any big decisions during his heat and my rut. We’d both been taught to wait until it was over before committing to anything.

But here I was, already acting like he was my beloved—kissing him gently, caressing him, pecking his temples. Then I moved my mouth to his cheeks, especially the one with the birthmark, and covered it with soft, feathery kisses.

Yep, I was in such deep shit.

My feelings were kinda getting out of control. I kept repeating to myself over and over: It’s just heat hormones, Storm. Pull yourself together.

But it was hard. Soon, I involuntarily began to make the sound known in the AO language as ‘Appreciation’—an open confession of interest in another person—on many levels, not only sexually. And Damien responded with a matching sound! For the first time, his arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me close.

Finally.

That felt good, so nice…

Then I noticed again that he instinctively began to turn his head slightly, showing me his neck glands, as if he wanted me to claim him by biting and marking.

Outside a relationship crossing this line was unimaginable, and yet, I saw how, perhaps instinctively but persistently, he was craning his neck, stubbornly presenting it to me, almost like insisting I make a mark there! Crazy!

It took a lot of effort to refrain from doing so—like a lot ! Nonetheless, I used the opportunity to suck a bit on his so-invitingly exposed glands. I couldn’t deny myself that, before sliding lower to his collarbones, and then to his lovely nipples.

I found them very pretty and hard —perfectly erect, waiting to be licked and tortured sweetly and passionately. So I started with the left one, lightly biting, sucking, simultaneously my fingers played with his right swollen nipple. Damien began to make deep, guttural sounds of impatience, quickly becoming more intense, louder. Finally, he arched his body, his fingers digging into my hair, his mouth opened. As I firmly rolled and stretched the tip of his second nipple, I suddenly felt something splash down my side. I looked down in surprise.

"Did you just come from me touching your nipples?" I asked, sounding rather silly.

He sighed slightly and muttered, "What's so strange about that, I guess it happens sometimes in heat?"

"I've never seen that before."

I didn’t know if it was possible for him to blush any more, but he turned as red as a beetroot. I leaned over and licked his soft belly thoroughly, pinching his sweet love handles and leaving a few hickeys over the soft mounds of his hips.

"You're so soft, pudgy, and you taste delicious, like a marshmallow…" I purred.

The moment I looked down, he immediately spread his legs wide and inviting, so I could easily taste some more of his sweetness that was now literally oozing out of him and soaking the sheet.

"Mmm… so ready for me." Smirking, I leaned in to lick his swollen entrance and kiss his pink petals. When I penetrated him with my tongue, he moaned so adorably and lifted his hips higher, as if to encourage me to put something thicker than my tongue in there. Finally, I couldn't help myself, I lifted up and pressed my dick against his soft hole.

Then I remembered that he loved hearing cringy dirty talk the first time around, so… why not go back to that?

"You agree to be stuffed, my hot marshmallow?"

"Very much so!"

And we merged again, both of us moaning.

"God, I love, love, love to be there, the best place in the world," I murmured and closed my eyes because it was true, I felt like I was in heaven, wonderfully held in a wet, hot paradise, an ideal retreat.

"I'm going crazy in your softness," I babbled, making no sense but unable to stop wallowing in him. "This is too good," I mumbled, feeling my knot growing even though I hadn't had an orgasm yet.

I moaned loudly as it expanded inside me, followed by a powerful orgasm and a wave of ecstatic pulsations in my cock, but all I could do was mumble gibberish, "Too good, too good, too divine, too divine…"

When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by Damien's wide-open eyes. He was staring at my red, flushed face.

"Do you really like being there so much?"

I snorted with laughter. "Do I like it?! That word is way too small to describe what I feel when I’m inside you. I could live there!" I smiled, and he replied with a shy smile.

"You’re so sexy, Damien, the sexiest omega I’ve ever met…"

He rolled his eyes. "This is absolute bullshit, and you know it."

"I don’t know anything about that because that’s how I feel, Damien. You’re just perfect for me."

And then we didn't talk for the next hour.

I fucked him constantly, I don't know, probably in all kinds of ways and positions, and he couldn't stop coming! It was almost 11 pm when I finally finished and positioned myself behind his back. I knew that he might experience small waves at night, and I wanted to be ready.

We pulled the blanket over us and just went to sleep without a shower, cum puddles around us. It was right around 2 in the morning when I felt the movement of his ass rubbing against my dick, which was strangely already stiff, so I just pushed it in and fucked him for a while until we both came.

And then we just went to sleep, but not for long—about 4 in the morning I was woken up by him tossing around the bed and the situation repeated itself. I entered him, thrust into him for a while, and we both climaxed.

Two hours later, the same thing happened again. At 8 o'clock in the morning it lasted even longer, the wave was much more intense, so we went to sleep again around 9:30, so tired that we fell dead asleep immediately. I didn't wake up until around 11 am when I heard the sound of the shower.

I sat up in bed and noticed, with some amusement, that my entire side was stained with dried jizz. The sheet didn’t look much better—crusty and smeared with cum. Then I heard Damien’s footsteps as he left the bathroom.

He stood in the doorway, dressed in a red T-shirt and shorts, peering at me. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, which was new. I smiled apologetically and pointed to the sheet. "Looks like you’ll have to replace it. Luckily, the nest didn’t get wrecked. A miracle!"

Damien laughed softly and walked closer. He looked surprisingly good, almost radiant, with a kind of positive energy surrounding him.

"It’s not a problem. My nest is really solid this time. I don’t think it’ll even fall apart when I change the sheet."

"Let’s try doing it together," I said with a grin.

He nodded, pulling a fresh sheet from the bottom drawer. Carefully, we slid the old one out from under his nest and just as carefully slid the new one in.

Damien was smiling the whole time. Then he said, "You know, it’s really nice how delicately you handle my nest. So many alphas think it’s some silly omega quirk."

"But it's natural for omegas, it's not some weird behavior. My omega dad always makes nests, really elaborate and sophisticated ones. My alpha father loves them. And… I love yours."

Damien looked at me like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Finally, he whispered, "Thank you. That’s really kind of you. It makes me feel—" He trailed off.

"It makes you feel—?" I prompted, even though I could tell we were venturing into sensitive territory.

He shrugged and shyly looked away. "Well, you know, all my omega instincts feel more fulfilled somehow. And even though I was so stressed before this heat, at least the stress is gone now. You taking care of my nest—I think that helps. It makes me feel like I'm being taken care… by you too."

Our eyes met, and this feeling passed between us—energy, trust, something unspoken, something rising.

I approached him slowly, knowing it wasn't the best idea, but I hugged him and pulled him close anyway. His face was pressed against my chest.

"Every omega should feel this way during heat. It’s such a deeply intimate experience; everything should work perfectly. I’m sorry it’s me—a stranger—here instead of someone you trust completely and know well. I hated seeing you stressed before, and I promise, with what little I can do, I’ll try to take some of that off your shoulders."

Damien looked up at me. We stood there, holding each other, and he stared at me. Were his eyes a little moist?

"The doctor told me stress can shorten heat significantly," he said softly. "It’s a delicate process—hormones are produced at lower levels during stress. I have a feeling today will be the last day."

I sighed heavily, feeling regret. "I guess the whole… refusal thing didn’t help."

He shook his head, stepping back. It felt wrong to let him go from my arms.

"Don’t worry about that. Looking back, I know you had good intentions, and I really appreciate that you didn’t want to treat this like a job."

"I’m here only because I want to be. It’s an amazing experience to share it with you."

Damien bit his lip. "If you’d taken the money, it would’ve been forever tainted." He let out a breath. "I would be fixating on: ‘What if he doesn’t really want this and just wants the cash?’ So now I’m sooo grateful for your decision!"

It was quite an effort to keep myself from saying more, declaring more, but still something slipped out.

"You have no idea how much your words mean to me, Damien. I struggled with that situation horribly. Even my cousin thought I was being irrational, but I just couldn’t do it. You didn’t deserve that—it’s your first heat."

He stared at the floor for a moment. "Thank you," he whispered.

Something intrigued me. "Um, where are your glasses?"

Damien blushed suddenly. "Umm… I have no idea why, but when I put them on, everything looked foggy. For some reason, I see more clearly without them today. Maybe they’re damaged or something—I don’t know."

I stared at him for a moment, noticing his intense blush.

Well, the whole idea of us being True Mates, which I had been entertaining in my head the whole time, seemed like a perfect explanation for this.

Was Damien aware of it? Only True Mates could heal each other, and since we’d slept together for two days, the healing might’ve already started! His eyesight could actually be returning to normal.

I hesitated. If I brought it up, it would be like an avalanche. We’d have to admit out loud what we were. But I wasn’t sure he was ready.

Damien cleared his throat. "Come on. I made breakfast for you. Have something to eat."

Well, I guess he wasn’t ready.

So I just smiled. "You spoil me, Damien. That’s really nice, but I can order something or even make something myself. I bought ingredients to cook us something interesting…"

"Maybe later. For now, pancakes are waiting for you. I even ate half of one myself."

We entered the kitchen, and sure enough, there was a giant pile of blueberry pancakes under a transparent lid. I paused for a moment. It was impossible not to notice Damien making an effort—was this his way of showing gratitude, or was there more to it? Was this a subtle invitation to his life, to sharing it with me? Storm, stop imagining things! These are just pancakes, not a confession of love!

"Oh, they look delicious!" I sat down and started eating immediately. Damien watched me the whole time, just like he had during previous meals.

"You really eat a lot," he said with a smirk.

"I’m 7’2" and weigh 650 pounds. I need to fuel these guns." I winked, flexing my biceps.

He kept staring, biting his lower lip as if he were struggling with something. Welcome to the club, Damien! I very intimately knew he didn’t have the courage to bring up what the future might hold for us because I shared the sentiment.

After heats, many people simply lost contact. It wasn’t always the case that those who went through it together—stayed together. Once the hormonal high faded, rational thinking returned. Then came the recovery period, when omegas often felt weak, tired, sensitive, even depressed. Many cried and needed peace. By the time they recovered—usually in two days—most hired alphas were already gone.

But I didn’t plan on disappearing. Oh, no! In my mind, I was already working on a way to ask him to be my boyfriend.

After breakfast, I shot him a brief look. "I’ll take a shower and then check what Mr. Ragu sent me. I noticed a text from him earlier."

Damien nodded. "I’ll go study and work on my app."