Meet the Princess

“So why do you think Princess herself has requested a meeting?” asked one of the two men sitting in the conference room.

Damien didn’t answer, looking out of the wall of windows overlooking the city. It was early in the morning and the crisp air was flooding the modern room from the open window. Despite that, his suit seemed too tight and uncomfortable.

“The rumor has it she has been visiting the most influential men her age for the past three months. People say she is looking for her mate, others think she is plotting something against or for her father,” continued Damien’s Beta.

Anything coming from that clan, that family couldn’t be simple.

Meanwhile, all the way down on the first floor of the tall building that was the financial pride of the Black clan, Alpha Damien’s assistant sat behind the gigantic front desk trying to hide her bitter face as much as possible. Tea, coffee, and small pastries from the bakery around the corner. It was too early for any employee to be there, including the receptionist. So here she was playing a servant for the Princess. Their clan wasn’t on good terms with Andre King’s clan anyway. She was not sure why Alpha Damien was being so welcoming to the Princess.

Her half-asleep unenthusiastic thoughts were interrupted when the sliding doors opened and walked in the famous daughter of the King clan. How could this woman be only twenty years old? Her large sunglasses hid her eyes, hair was up in an effortless French braid that looked chic nonetheless. Red-tainted lips quirked up in a polite but confident smile, as shapely legs made elegant steps creating echoing sounds of high heels hitting the marble floor.

Begrudgingly she appreciated Princess’ white blouse that hugged her torso tightly, covered with a pistachio blazer, and finished with deep green high-waisted trousers that ended above her ankles. The long gold chain with a small ancient-looking medallion was bouncing off her curvy chest.

It took the assistant a moment to get her smile back on before greeting Miss King politely and inviting her to follow her. The young woman carried a certain aura around her; she was definitely an Alpha, not simply of Alpha blood.

Ada was thankful for the extra minutes in the elevator and through the still semi-dark halls surrounded by empty offices. The building was modern and screamed financial power, just what she expected from Damien Sevach. Silent prayers of it not being him kept repeating themselves, pulling her attention to the upcoming task. The last meeting with yet another candidate had failed, leading her closer and closer to Damien. She had already visited so many young men, starting with the ones she either disliked or was indifferent to.

The assistant paused in front of a door indicating they had arrived. Ada took a deep breath feeling her wolf asleep.

Damien was getting annoyed at Arsen’s theories behind this meeting. His newest idea was that Ada King was plotting to poison them and take over their newly acquired clan after all their hard work. The clock showed three minutes to seven and he knew she would be there soon.

As he was glaring at Arsen, her scent floated towards him. It wasn’t flowers like other attractive females he knew. This was the smell of mountains during the cold months of winter. It was fresh, awakening, and powerful. The door opened, he saw Ada walk in and lose her smile the moment their eyes met. Her beautiful face showed a moment of something unpleasant, regret possibly, before going back to typical neutrality.

Arsen was surprised to see Damien stand up and Ada stop by the door. This was not how their business meetings usually started. He silently cursed the fates already guessing what was happening. Ada King was not a good Luna candidate. She was the daughter of that lunatic. His Alpha needed someone to improve his position not jeopardize it. Arsen’s last hope that his assumptions were wrong shattered when Damien crossed the room quickly, grabbed her nape, and buried his face in her neck. A roaring “Mine!” was muffled against her skin but the room filled with his overbearing aura making sure no other wolf would dare to approach what was his.

Damien couldn’t think straight. His wolf instincts had taken over immediately. She looked as beautiful as he remembered, but she had grown into her features since their teen years. Her scent was the thing driving his common sense away. He kept inhaling hoping for the fire in his veins to get pacified by the fresh snow-like scent nestled in her hair. He could hear her breaths. Warm humid breaths going in and out of those small but plump lips.

Desperate attempts to gain control kept resulting in nothing. Her eyes... focusing on them could ground him. He still remembered those giant expressive green eyes. Now that he thought about it, her eyes had looked terrified the moment she had looked at him. Damien froze. She wasn’t moving or saying anything. She stood in his arms like a marble statue. Long deep breaths and an erratic heartbeat were the only sign she wasn’t an ancient statue of Moon Goddess after all.

After a few more deep gulps of her scent, he stepped back to take a look at her face. Her facial features were schooled to neutral politeness but there was some kind of emotion swimming in those forest eyes. Izolda Mikhailovna, the founder of the school they all attended, would be proud of how skillfully Ada was concealing what was going on in her mind. She took a step back and opened her palm showing a vial with liquid that looked like herbal tea all while carefully avoiding looking into his eyes.

“Mr. Sevach, please drink this. It will suppress your wolf and we can start our discussion,” was all she said and waited with her palm outstretched to him.

Damien’s eyes hardened first looking at the vial then at his mate. Nothing, absolutely nothing was showing on her face. A newly mated female. She should have been blushing, smiling, spreading her legs for him. Not Ada King. She was simply looking somewhere right behind his left ear.

Arsen was quick to jump between them knowing Damien’s brain would be fucking useless at that moment. Most wolves would have been making out and giggling like idiots after finding their mate. Even Damien Sevach shouldn’t be immune to mate bond euphoria.

Arsen was standing next to him, frowning at Ada’s palm holding the vial, obviously indicating that no drinking of questionable substances would be happening. The she-devil took another deep breath and continued, “As we all already understood, Mr. Sevach and I are fated mates. However, I am not interested in the traditional relationship of this bond. I am here to discuss a deal.”

Arsen’s jaw dropped. This woman was worse than her father. Damien hadn’t moved or said anything. He stared at her with cold dangerous eyes.

Ada allowed herself to drink him in while waiting for his answer. He was a man now. Same black straight hair, pitch-black eyes, white skin, and darker than expected lips. He was much taller than her. When he had hugged her, she had barely made it above his strong jaw even on her heels. His build was never bulky but broad shoulders gave away the powerful male.

Damien steadily walked back to his chair.

“Is that a mixture made by a witch to pacify the mate bond?”

“Yes,” was all she said.

“Arsen, bring it over, please.”

Arsen mind linked Damien as he carried the vial from Ada. - Are you sure this is safe to drink?

I don’t see why she would harm me; this family strikes their deals first before killing the opponents - Damien replied.

Ada watched Damien’s Adam’s apple move as he drank the concoction. Mate bond or not, he had always been attractive.

“It will take about 20 minutes to take effect. Arsen, could you direct me to the ladies’ room?”

Arsen was surprised she remembered his name but followed her intending to keep an eye on her for the next 20 minutes. This situation was a shitshow. Alpha getting rejected by his Luna. It would weaken Damien. The stuck-up elders of their clan would only be happy to attribute this to his "wrong" heritage.

Ada nodded her thanks to the Beta before entering the restroom. Thankfully there was a small sitting area. She sank into the armchair and tried to slow her heartbeat. Her face remained in its polite, neutral state. A lifetime around her father and a few years under Izolda Mikhailovna’s teachings was enough to solidify her facial muscles into that mask. She calmly straightened imaginary wrinkles on her trousers while checking the watch on her wrist periodically. No need to spend even an extra minute in the same room with him.

Damien sat in the conference room watching a young woman arrange coffee and pastries on the small table in the corner. The more present part of his mind was trying to remember her name as she was newly hired. The back of his brain was a storm of anger, arousal, and something painful. He could feel the witch’s concoction working slowly. The thunder and lightning of his anger were calming down, after all, anger was useless in this situation. Chaos in his chest had slowed down to the point he could barely feel any pain.

The pain of not being good enough even for his mate. Doubts slithered into his subconscious, doubts created by years of being told his power, his worthiness was a mistake, an oversight by Mood Goddess. Burying those doubts deep like he had always done, he noticed that all was left was the monotonous breeze of his arousal.