Page 30 of Undone
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been... off,” she said slowly. “You told me a few months ago that you intended to finally take a mate, but now you avoid socializing and barely look at omegas when you do go out. And you smell strange lately.”
Michael tensed up. What? Could she smell Anthony’s scent on him?
What did you expect?a voice said snidely at the back of his mind.You swallowed his come. He smeared his precome all over your mating gland, marking you like his territory. Like his bitch.
“Strange?” he said, his voice sharper than he’d intended.
She nodded, a deep wrinkle appearing between her brows. “I don’t know how to explain it... But you smell a little different. Not bad. Just different.”
“It’s probably the new aftershave messing with your senses,” Michael said, more than a little alarmed. If even his mother—who had been on weak suppressants since his father’s death and didn’t have a particular sensitivity to scents—could tell that his scent was off, then it definitely was, and that hadnothing to do with his aftershave. He hadn’t even shaved in days. Having some scruff on his face made him feel better. More like an alpha. It was hard to feel like an alpha when he couldn’t seem to last a few hours without stuffing something into his asshole—or thinking about stuffing something into his asshole.
“Maybe,” she said, but her expression was doubtful. “In any case, you need to go out more. Make some actual effort to find a compatible omega. You promised to get mated this year.”
“I remember,” he said with a sigh. “I will go to the ball this evening and dance with a few omegas. I promise.”
Smiling, she stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek—or rather, on his jaw, since she was so much shorter than him. “Thank you, darling. But don’t do it for me. Do it for yourself. I want a few grandchildren to spoil rotten, but first and foremost, I want you to be happy.”
Michael forced a smile. “I will. Don’t worry, Mother.”
***
Cravats were rather old-fashioned and worn mostly by the older generation, but Michael didn’t have a choice when he got dressed for the ball. The bruise was still very red and very obvious, and Michael was extremely self-conscious about it no matter how well it was hidden by his snow-white cravat.
The cravat might be old-fashioned, but it suited him. He looked good. The dark evening suit contrasted nicely with the cravat, emphasizing his broad shoulders and tall, elegant frame.
Michael stared at the man in his reflection. He really was rather ridiculously handsome. He’d always known he washandsome, of course, but it was the first time he was acutely aware of it: of his high cheekbones and perfect bone structure, of his firm jaw and full lips, of his lush, dark gold hair. He still hadn’t shaved, and the slight scruff gave him a more roguish appearance, the cravat notwithstanding.
Anthony was right: he did look better than most omegas.
Warmth curled in his stomach at the thought.
Grimacing, Michael shoved the thought away. What Anthony thought of his appearance was irrelevant. It was the omegas he had to appeal to tonight. And Anthony was unlikely to be there. Torryn’s full moon had only just begun to wane, and Torryn alphas tended to avoid social events so soon after their ruts. It should be safe to go out. Not that he was scared of his friend or anything. Of course he wasn’t. It would just be easier to focus on omegas if Anthony wasn’t there to aggravate him and distract him. Michael would go out, pick an omega to court, and marry them within a few months. His life would be back on track.
An hour later, Michael wondered grimly if he’d been a bit too optimistic.
Picking an omega to court was easier said than done. They all blended together for him. None of them stirred his blood. He didn’t hate them. He wasbored.
“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” his mother said.
“She is,” Michael agreed, suppressing a sigh. He had no idea who she was talking about, but it didn’t matter: all omegas his mother pointed out to him were beautiful, without exception.
His mother’s face brightened. “You should dance with her, then, darling.”
Michael followed her gaze and grimaced inwardly when he saw the omega. The young woman was beautiful, with light blond hair and nice eyes. Exactly his type. He’d always preferred blondes and redheads. And yet, the hopeful look on the omega’s pretty face only made him tired now. He wasn’t in the mood for dancing. But it would be the smart thing to do. He’d barely danced with omegas since his return from Belith. People were starting to notice. The last thing he needed was the gossipmongers’ scrutiny on him. He had to act normal. He had to pick a compatible omega, court them, and marry them. There was no use dragging his feet.
“I will,” he said and headed toward the omega.
Michael put on a smile as he approached her and invited her to dance. And being who he was, he wasn’t refused. He was never refused.
By the end of the hour, Michael had danced with six different omegas, all of them beautiful and well-mannered, all of them in possession of sweet, appealing scents and equally sweet personalities. Their scents didn’t aggravate him, didn’t make his inner alpha bristle and posture. Any of them would make a fine spouse and give him a gaggle of beautiful children. While he didn’t feel any real attraction to them, he found them aesthetically pleasing. And they didn’t smell unappealing to him, which meant they were compatible enough where pheromones were concerned.
The omegas smelled interested. Eager even. It wasn’t about just his title or his money. They were attracted to him as a man. As an alpha. Michael could smell it in their scents, in the way they arched their pretty necks subtly, trying to entice him to scent them.
They looked good like that. They smelled good.
But his instincts remained quiet, his cock soft.
