He didn’t know.
“Can we please go home? I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Mac pulled away and ran home. He spent half the night worried Deltta would show up. But he didn’t, much to Mac’s relief…and sadness.
Mac ignored the latter. He was a fool to even feel like that…to want something out of his reach.
Just forget he’s here, Mac told himself. It worked until he went to the leisure room the next day to find an overly excited Faria. The beta mumbled to himself, pacing the length of the war room.
“I told you I’d get them to send someone to investigate the commune house. He’s here because of me!” He screamed, eyes glued to the front doors. Mac turned that way. The open sign blinked invitingly.
Was he expecting the alpha king to walk through the door? It sure looked like it.
Jamue rolled his eyes.
Mac prayed he wouldn’t come. He’d avoided running into him all day, and he hoped he’d leave without them seeing each other.
"Do you think it's ready?" Jamue asked, standing next to the tank full of their new spirit.
Mac sank the sampling tool into the tank and drew out a tiny sample. He poured it into the sampling glass Jamue held. The omega breathed it in.
He moaned. “Smells delicious.”
Mac took it from him and tasted it. “Try it.” He handed it to Faria.
Faria hummed, drinking it down. “Fuck, Mac. You did it again. This is raw and fiery. Makes me want more.”
Mac nodded and went back to work.
“Is he going to remove Ulk and Elama or close down the commune?” Jamue continued their conversation without missing a beat.
“I don’t know what he plans to do. But his visit is good for our little town,” Faria said. "We're going to have so much business. I wish he would come to my leisure room."
As if on cue, the door opened and in walked the alpha king, followed by his alphas.
Deltta's eyes landed on him as if he knew where he was. Heat climbed up Mac’s spine. For a second, he couldn’t breathe.
“He’s here,” Faria screeched. “I can’t believe it.”
Jamue shushed him.
Yarr pointed Deltta to an empty table. He looked powerful, unreachable, and devastatingly hot. His eyes never leaving his, he sat at the table. Mac felt his overwhelming presence all the way in the war room. The need to submit, to offer himself to him, filled him.
Mac quickly looked away.
“I’m not going to send a bot to serve him. I’m going there myself.” Faria smoothed down his long shirt and made his way to the table.
Jamue touched his arm.
“I’m fine,” Mac said breathlessly. He turned to the distilling machine and forced himself to focus. Faria returned a few seconds later.
“Mac, he wants you.” He declared. “Go.”
Mac’s heart plummeted to his knees. “What?”
“He said he wants to be served by you.”
“Tell him I don’t work here anymore.” Mac bit out.