His Unidentified & Untouchable Mate

"Again"

Zahraa POV

I went home and dropped into my bed, more than just exhausted. I was too spent to cry, so I just stared up at the ceiling, bemoaning my aching ribs and twisted ankle. It didn’t take me long to slip into a light sleep, roused occasionally by the vibrating of my phone in my pocket.

I ignored it, until I heard a key in my apartment’s lock.

I bolted upright, forgetting the pain in my ribs until it blacked my vision and stole my breath away. The door creaked open, and I reached with some effort and even more pain under my bed, where I kept a baseball bat for intruders.

“Hello?” Ingrid called, peeking around the corner, into my bedroom.

I breathed a sigh of relief, sagging back onto the bed. “Oh. It’s just you.”

I could tell by her quickly approaching footsteps that she was angry. “Oh yeah. Just me, who has been trying to reach you since you disappeared on us at the restaurant. Just me, who was Alpha Rowan’s first call when he picked you off the bathroom floor, apparently.” She flopped down on my bed, and I peered through my fingers at her.

Oh yeah, she looked pissed.

“What happened?” she asked, “And why didn’t you tell me?”

There it was – back to square one. Hadn’t we just had a talk about being more open? I groaned, rolling over and pushing myself back up. I made myself a little nest of pillows to rest against and moaned as I settled into it. “I’m sorry,” I started, “I didn’t think it would be as bad…” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, “…as bad as it was before.”

Her eyes softened. “Was it?”

I dropped my gaze, my hand settling over my ribs, which laced with pain from every breath I took. “Worse.”

She winced. “Rowan told me a little,” she spoke softly, as if afraid her words might break me. “Care to tell me the rest?”

I sighed and nodded. For the second time today, I recounted what had happened at the restaurant, during this morning’s shift – before and after a wardrobe change. The fury on Ingrid’s face grew and grew, until she rose from her seat and started pacing, chewing her thumbnail. “You should have let me know,” she said, her expression being one of hurt. “I could’ve-”

“I had no way to let you know until it was over,” I said, reminding her for probably the thousandth time that I didn’t share a mind link with her or the pack. “And afterwards… well, you only would’ve beaten yourself up about it. Kind of like you are now.”

She continued pacing.

“I could’ve told Rowan. We could’ve-”

“Ingrid, please,” I breathed, sinking further into my pillows. “It’s fine. It’s really fine. Alpha Rowan excused me from working anymore, so…”

Her brows raised. “He did?”

I nodded. “He said ‘any mate of the alpha’s family can’t be working like an omega.’”

Ingrid settled back down, looking thoughtful. “So, he doesn’t think Jacob rejected you, but everyone else seems to think so?”

I grimaced. “‘Seems to think so’ and is willing to act on it,” I grumbled.

She growled and flopped back onto the bed, hands folded over her stomach as she glared into my poor, innocent ceiling fan. “Jacob really is a prick. Where is he during all of this?”

I looked at my phone, now switched onto Do Not Disturb to stop the onslaught of messages I’d been getting from him, and my friends. “Um.”

“I mean, it’s his fault, isn’t it? For not being clear with them. For not being seen around with you – I mean, honestly, have you even seen him since the party?”

“No,” I replied hesitantly. “But-”

“Exactly,” she emphasized before I could defend him. She groaned and pushed herself up. “Ugh. I’m so pissed. I brought the stuff for carbonara. I’ll be in your kitchen.”

I could hear her slamming around in there, and I – with great effort – slid out of bed and shut the bedroom door so I could change out of yet another work uniform. A uniform I might not need anymore.

It was a strange feeling.

Working as an omega had made me feel connected with the pack. It had given me a purpose, other than just being a ‘waste of resources’ as some called us. It had introduced me to wolves I never would’ve met otherwise, gave us common ground to talk. Sure, Rowan had helped me overcome bullying before – but making connections had helped.

Losing that felt…

Lonely.

There was a knock on my apartment door, and as I slipped on something more comfortable than concealing, I heard voices in the other room – one female, one male.

I opened the door in just some shorts and a tank top to find Jacob there, arguing with Ingrid.

She jabbed her finger into his chest. “I don’t care who your daddy is, Jacob, she’s your mate, so you should be taking care of her.”

“I came here as soon as I could,” he grabbed her arm and wrenched it behind her, pushing her into the pantry door. “And you would do well to remember your place, omega.”

“Jacob!” I rushed over, forgetting I was gloveless, and grabbed his wrist in an attempt to free Ingrid. It worked, though perhaps not in the way I would’ve liked. Pain blossomed through my fingers, through my palm, up through my arm until he broke contact, stumbling back and hitting the small kitchen table.

“Zahraa,” Ingrid had her arms around me in a moment, rubbing my arms in an attempt to soothe the searing pain. “I’m sorry – I…”

Jacob recovered before me, snarling and pushing himself back to his feet, stalking closer to us.

I flinched, and time seemed to stop.

He froze in place as Ingrid and I huddled together. Ingrid pushed forward, putting herself between us. “Jacob, I…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, before she could finish her thought. “Zahraa, I didn’t-”

“Apologize to Ingrid,” I hissed, “Not me.”

Jacob’s features hardened as his eyes slid to Ingrid. “I will not be disrespected by an omega,” he said. “Watch where you point that finger, and we can have a civil conversation.”

Ingrid bowed her head – she couldn’t help it. Jacob had alpha blood, and she couldn’t compete with his strength, physical or otherwise. “Yes, Jacob.”

“I am sorry I used force with you,” he said, though it sounded as if he were pushing the words through gritted teeth. His eyes turned to me. “I only came to speak with my mate.” He emphasized the words, as if reminding me who I was to him. Or reminding Ingrid.

“Sure,” she said, still submitting to his will. “I’ll leave. Zahraa, the carbonara is done – you and Jacob can enjoy.”

“Ingrid,” I called after her as she plucked up the reusable grocery bag she’d brought and hurried out the door. I followed her into the living room, but when she refused to cast a glance back at me, I stopped dead in my tracks until the door clicked closed behind her. I froze there for I don’t know how long, fuming.

“Zahraa,” he said, voice soft.

Fury bubbled up in my stomach, rising through my throat like bile until it came out my mouth in the form of hateful words. I turned on my heel to face him, face contorted in my rage. “How could you talk to her like that?” I demanded, “How could you lay hands on my best friend in my home?!”