Maiston used to always fall asleep early, but in recent months, it became a challenge that required too much effort. He could close his eyes and force himself to sleep, yet it was useless because he could lie for hours with his eyes shut and achieve nothing more than feeling miserable.
In a couple of hours, he needed to head to work, to attend an important meeting with overseas colleagues, and he needed to be in good shape to accomplish something positive. Despite all this, he simply wanted to surrender to the void that was consuming him madly.
He closed his eyes and tried to sleep again, yet his mind refused peace, providing only misery by reminding him of the time he met Prince:
That day was overcast, forewarning a torrential downpour and possible thunderstorm. Winter had arrived in full force, and many people on the street lacked umbrellas, scurrying about in attempts to avoid getting drenched more than they already were. Maiston watched the rain from his office. It was another day of work, which he enjoyed. He loved his job and had no trouble waking up every day at six in the morning.
"Well, are you ready?" asked Jim. "It's about time for us to head to that dinner."
"Yes, yes, just noting that it's pouring."
"Indeed, I doubt it will stop anytime soon as the clouds are laden with rain. Let's go."
He nodded, grabbing his phone and jacket.
They left, discussing the individuals they were about to meet at the restaurant—a location frequented by many investors, wealthy people, celebrities, and magnates. It was a once-a-year event attended by many nationals, generally resulting in numerous deals and more. Jim and Maiston were going because they had scheduled a time with a powerful businessman. They didn't want to miss the opportunity to expand their territories and ink new deals that might refresh their existence.
His father had taught him all he needed to manage the company, so he was never worried about anything. After his father, he had become the boss of everything and was in charge of many things.
He had a brother, but he was always traveling abroad, managing his own affairs and accomplishments, as they were sons of different mothers, so naturally, they did not get along well. He had his living mother, while Maiston had lost both parents and clung only to their teachings. Those times had been tough, but he had managed without serious issues.
Stepping out of the car, they hurried to get as little rain on them as possible. The doorman asked for their names—even though he knew them—but it was protocol, and they entered.
The place was crowded. Women in beautiful dresses and men in elegant suits. It was no secret that the venue would be thick with pheromones, and thus Omegas were scarce. Those present were usually with partners and marked, so they faced no significant concerns.
"I told you," Jim remarked, snatching a wine glass from a passing waiter, "powered-up individuals everywhere."
"Yes, I see," Maiston murmured, surveying the surroundings.
"Let's head over there. If we're late, the German will be upset."
He agreed, and they continued on. As they walked, he observed the surroundings. There were many paintings, beautiful long drapes, and colossal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. An elegant and classical music made the ambiance more enjoyable.
They ascended a staircase and encountered more people.
"There."
Maiston looked where his friend was pointing and cleared his throat. Jim didn't speak German, only a few basic words, so it fell upon him to converse with him.
They saw him talking with others, and as there were many in the way, the crowd shifted aside as they approached. The dark-haired man watched the gentleman conversing with someone else, not knowing who it could be, but the man smiled and nodded. Just before they could reach him, the young man turned to leave. He didn't look anywhere specifically, but Maiston followed his gaze as he moved.
And he was an Omega.
That was clear because he was beautiful, and while an Omega, he strode alone without fear of anything, not even the anxiety of being amidst such tall and prominent figures apparent.
His gaze remained fixed on the Omega as he descended the stairs, and his mind went blank. This was unprecedented for him. He wasn't one to be dazzled by people or things because he had it all at the snap of the fingers. If someone said no, they'd soon say yes if he bought something, but at that moment, everything felt different. And his heart raced.
He didn't know what was happening until Jim nudged him in the shoulder, and he looked straight ahead. Blinking, he extended his hand to greet.
"Entschuldigung, ich habe für eine Sekunde vergessen, wo ich war (Sorry, I forgot where I was for a second)," he apologized to the German.
The other man smiled as they shook hands.
"Ich habe gesehen, dass viele vergessen, wo sie sind, wenn sie Prince sehen (I've seen many forget where they are when they see Prince)," he replied with a smile.
Maiston couldn't recall what else was said or what words he himself offered because in his head real only the name of that Omega, echoed again and again. He wasn't sure how long they conversed or if they brokered a deal or if it all fell through. At his first chance, he escaped to the restroom, skin drenched with sweat, hands clammy and trembling. He swallowed hard.
Staring in the mirror, he looked unfamiliar. He washed his hands and left slowly for the hallway.
Jim was waiting by the food, but he forgot where he had come from or where to go. He rubbed his forehead feeling dizzy. Uncertain about what was unfolding, but sure it started when he saw him. His body grew increasingly warm, throat parched. He leaned against a wall, musing if it was a jest, for his heat cycle was far off.
Looking around at the deserted hallway, he darted into a room to hide and call Jim. He needed an urgent departure; he carried no inhibitors.
Perspiration coated his phone.
"Excuse me?"
He glanced up and recoiled upon sighting him.
"Weren't you taught to knock? I'm busy, get out," Prince demanded.
Maiston couldn't act, but his body did. The Omega looked attractive, serious-faced but sweet green eyes. His hair, neither long nor short, and his attire odd yet seemingly perfect, prompted Maiston to fancy him even more undressed.
Prince stepped back, blinking in realization as a potent presence enveloped him.
"Are you releasing pheromones? I don't even know you!"
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, attempting to exit, but the door resisted.
He yanked hard on it, futilely.
Aware his pheromones were intense and being consumed by the rut, he still grasped the situation as a scent unknown to him invaded. He nearly shattered the doorknob with his grasp, that scent signifying one thing. He didn't need to look back to restrain himself, yet it was unnecessary; he envisioned it clearly.
"Don't… I don't want you to touch me…" Prince voiced, and Maiston considered how effortlessly he could comply.
An Omega in heat was powerless, fully consumed by it.
He grabbed his phone again, eyes squinting shut, knowing if a cycle was torturous for an Omega, resisting was thrice harder for an Alpha, overwhelmed by the ungovernable urge to find someone to sate his desires in any way possible.
And it was a rose scent. Eyes closed, he saw solely red roses. Its fragrance was sweet and intoxicating.
Spinning, body heated, he spotted a door. He advanced towards Prince, devoid of any thought. He yearned to disrobe and indulge in much more, yet Maiston ushered him inside and slammed the door shut. Eyes blinked into a blurred world, returns to the door to attempt another escape. Blinded by anger and more.
Upon the door opening, he spotted a Beta he hadn't seen before, immediately apparent by sight.
"What are you doing here?!"
Disregarded, he strode past as the Beta rushed in, calling for Prince. At the hallway's end, Jim appeared, wasting no time approaching with a cloth to cover his nose and support Maiston with his other arm, offering an inhibitor that wouldn't do much good at this point but could lead them away.
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