“Then I’ll ask you to forgive me when I deny your bid and announce the next highest bidder as the winner.”
“That,” Oberon slid his hands into his pockets and took a deliberate step closer, his pheromones flicking around them threateningly, “would be unwise.”
Her nostrils flared and her cheeks flushed, but she held her ground. “I’m a prime alpha, same as you.”
“You’re Glyphian?” On their neighboring planet, that’s what dominant alphas were called.
Glyph and Synastry were both homes to alphas and omegas, though the first also had a third proclivity, known as beta. They also had stricter laws and more failsafes in place to protect their citizens from sexual assault. Her line of work was definitely better conducted here than there.
“I relocated at a young age,” she corrected. “I consider myself a Syn.”
“Synastry has certainly been good to you.” He clucked his tongue. “But whether or not we’re bothdominantalphas is obsolete.” Though it did help explain why she might have been let off the hook after all of the crimes she’d committed.
Dominant alphas and omegas were rare, with better chances of procreation. For a planet at risk of dying off within the next hundred or so years, her presentation would have to be taken into consideration.
“Are you using your connections with the mafia to threaten me, Mr. King?”
“And if I am?”
“Seems like a lot of trouble for one heat.”
“Funny, that’s what I should be saying to you, is it not?” Oberon gave her a pointed stare. “How about a compromise? I won’t touch the product without permission, but you give the green light for me to test him.”
“How exactly do you intend to do that without getting physical with him?” she asked suspiciously.
“That’s for me to figure out. Do you agree, or not?” He had her cornered and they both knew it. If he really did choose to get the White Frost involved, everything she’d built would be destroyed in a matter of days. Reputation was everything on this planet, and with one word, he could completely obliterate the Wardrobe’s.
Their two forces had been toeing the line, but as of yet, no one had crossed it. As high up the ladder as he was, it wasn’t really Oberon’s decision to make, and he didn’t want to risk spoiling Levi’s plans by jumping the gun and making a bold move against Michelle.
However…
For the chance to get his hands on a product like Fenrir?
He’d do it.
“Of course.” She nodded her head curtly and then turned to the same guard who’d tried to stop him moments ago. “Go downstairs and tell them to prepare Fenrir for tradeoff.”
“Bring him here,” Oberon suggested. “I’m sure you have an empty room we can borrow.”
Her mouth thinned but she nodded again.
“I want him bound and blindfolded,” he added.
“Arms and legs?” she asked, more tersely than before.
“Just his wrists will suffice.”
“Gagged as well?”
“No.” O wanted to hear the omega’s voice. He wanted to know if Fenrir would protest even half as much as his mistress currently was.
He didn’t like the flash of possessiveness that swept through him, but he welcomed it nonetheless. It’d been a long time since he’d fought against his own wants and desires, having learned it was best to embrace them. Fighting losing battles was a waste of energy, after all.
“Please,” Michelle took a step to the side and motioned with her arm down the hallway she’d come from, “if you’ll follow me, we can get the paperwork started, that way once you’re satisfied with the product, all that will be left is payment and signing the contract. Fenrir will be brought to the room adjacent for when you’re ready.”
He allowed her to lead them, letting her get a few paces ahead to give his secretary the opportunity to voice whatever was on his mind.
“What?” Oberon demanded.