The Forbidden Omega

Chapter Three: The Worrisome Alpha

I need to get something, I'll be right back, Soren." I rise from the table, feeling the usual thrill of a new project replaced by a grim determination to get this right. To make this the best I've ever made. For Soren.

I return with a simple set of watercolor pens, and can tell Soren is interested in my plan by the way his face begins to open up, his guard dropping as I throw color on the page, blending the edges and overlapping areas for different effects. I had only a vague thought of how to execute this in cake, but that was unimportant. It was for Soren.

"I'm going to have to experiment a little, to get this right," I mutter as I add the last few swipes of purple, looking up as I grin. "But this is my idea." I turn the note book, showing off the color template for this Omega's request. I can only pray he approves.

"Oh!" Soren gasps, reaching out to grab the paper, but pulling back when he realizes it's still slightly damp. His eyes shine like beacons, lit with radiant joy as he gazes on his design realized. "It's perfect," he whispers, tears glimmering on his lashes. "That's it. That's what I had in mind."

I debate in my mind the way to achieve this exact effect, as Soren stares at the page, awestruck by the painting. I can think of no greater achievement than making this perfect. This cake, I feel, is the cake we should have had, at our wedding. I can't imagine any more perfect design for us.

My wolf growls when I assert Soren isn't ours, for the fifth time that hour. Isn't ours, yet , he insists stubborn as a bull.

Yet.

"What sort of embellishments do you want?" I ask, turning the page now that the painting is mostly dry. I jot down a few color notes, indicating the technical aspect of the cake. Soren hesitates as I look up, eyes guarded, as if he still feared his opinion. "This is your design, Soren," I murmur. "No ideas are incorrect."

"Can... Can we put roses up one side?" He begins to loosen up, voice his desires more freely as we move to the counter, so that I can work on the sponges waiting in the back. I hand him a completed sandwich cake, and his eyes go wide as he tastes the passion fruit filling.

"How many layers?" I ask, returning to the design book, drawing the minimum three to start. "And the shape," I mutter, my pen tapping the page again. I think of the sets of pans I have, and add, "I have squares, circles or rectangles." I pause, as I mull over my supply catalogue, adding, "I can also custom order a set, if you really want to get crazy."

"Easy there, Alpha. I can't guarantee my mate will agree with me." He Alpha's it off, even as my heart breaks for him. Tradition dictated that the design of the union cake was placed in the Omega's hands. His Alpha should really not even think about objecting to what Soren wants.

"Oh! Make the roses white," he adds, immune to my heartache. His face seems to glow with happiness as we hash out the basic shapes of his cake, and I add an extra layer to the drawing at his request, coloring in the cake to finish the template.

I turn the notebook again, showing off his vision of the perfect cake. I can't imagine this cake being served to anyone else, no other couple would have this design. It was as unique as the Omega before me.

"Perfect." He grins, looking into my eyes, his own twinkling with joy at the prospect before him. He loved the design, even if he didn't love me. I suppose I could settle for that. I would have to.

As I stare into Soren's beautiful eyes - a smile gracing my cheeks, and the soft scent of my omega filling my nose - I almost believe he feels the same. He licks his lips, parting them to whisper something, before a strange Alpha's scent, ripe with possessiveness, floods the room.

Soren immediately pulls away, his tall frame shrinking in on himself, as a stocky, yet undeniably short Alpha walks up to the counter, wrapping a thick arm around Soren. "Hey, hon." His voice is a low velvet purr, dangerous in its softness. "What did you design?" He asks, cold, black eyes examining Soren's face.

Soren blushes, and nods, hands fumbling with the sketchbook. "I just thought... I really like this one, Alpha." He wouldn't meet my eyes, as I try and non-verbally ask if he's alright. "I thought... I thought it might be fun..." Soren whispers, his scent sour with fear, spiking as Jason brushes his nose over his shoulder, the highest place the shorter man could reach on his mate.

Jason's hand comes up to grip my Omega's neck, lingering to leave a thick layer of his scent. He took the book from Soren's shaking hands, eyeing the vibrant, lively cake with contempt. Soren's breath hitches, his eyes wide and locked on to Jason's face, as he tilts his head. "Honey..." His tone was a clear reprimand, and I catch a glimpse of moisture glistening on Soren's eyelashes. "Honey, you know it's a black tie affair."

"I just thought..." I almost tear this jackass's throat out as my beautiful Omega nods in defeat, pursing his lips so as not to openly cry. "Yes, Alpha. A simple cake would be better. I was carried away."

"Good boy," Jason murmurs, his thumb brushing Soren's bottom lip, and he smiles. Jason has the mannerisms of a predator, his lifeless eyes like a shark's, holding no love, or joy. He tugs Soren down to his height, possessively kissing him, making the Omega shudder.

I clear my throat, as Jason tries to display his ownership of my Omega, nipping at his neck, just above his mating gland. His teeth leave an angry red mark on Soren's skin, his flesh red and nearly broken by the Alpha's teeth. A mark he promptly covers with a scarf from his bag. His eyes are defeated, holding none of the life and joy of the last hour. He looks like a beaten dog, trembling at his master's side.

"Thank you for your design, sir," Soren whispers, as his hands grip his bag. "But I think I want to start over." Soren doesn't meet my eyes as Jason schedules another consultation for the both of them. "I decided it's not quite right."

"As you wish, Soren." I try to contain my wolf, who rails at the confines of my mind, foaming at the mouth and baying for Jason's blood between our teeth. I close his sketchbook, eyes not giving the brutish Alpha satisfaction. "Come back soon," I murmur, only looking at Soren. "You're welcome here any time."

I try not to shift, as the monster leads my Omega away by the scruff of his neck. Why would Soren want a kind Alpha like myself, when he has Jason, I wonder grimly.

My sarcasm goes unnoticed by my wolf as he nearly tears me apart.