The Curse Of The Alpha’s Mate

Chapter 3

After my distracted morning yoga class, I meet Natalia in the Japanese cafe off-campus, just a few blocks away from the liquor store where I had —uncountable times— cajoled a drunk Justin Fairfax to go home.

It wasn’t even early afternoon yet, but the summer heat was already beginning to make my grey tank top darker and sticky with sweat stains as I jogged down the block.

Entering the double doors of the cozy, familiar cafe, I’m for once grateful for the ever-blasting A.C that hummed and worked tirelessly regardless of if there was snow or volcanoes in New Harrlon.

I slide into our regular table and wave at Ren who had seen me come in and is beaming at me; his head poking over the latest edition of Vogue magazine.

There aren’t many customers in Ariyoshi Café; a plump woman in one of the corner tables, three teenage girls conversing idly, an old man bent over a book, with a steaming cup of coffee next to him.

Minutes later, Natalia saunters through the glass doors; hands shoved into a black leather jacket I am a hundred percent sure she’s sweating like a pig inside.

“Dude, I’m so f*****g thirsty.” She complains, plopping down on the chair opposite mine and immediately shrugging off her jacket; revealing a shabby graphic t-shirt.

Natalia orders a cold brew cup of black coffee —like the psycho that she is, and I order vanilla ice-cream —like the painfully bland person that I am.

“So if I remember correctly, we were miserable because you’re fucked.” Natalia says, putting down her coffee and smacking her lips together. “Not literally, of course.” She shakes her head like it’s a bad thing that I’m still a virgin.

I roll my eyes and spoon the ice-cream into my mouth; feeling a sense of calm washing over me as the cold rushes to my brain.

“So I’m guessing you had s**t sleep?” She gestures to my matching grey yoga clothes and dark eye circles. “You only remember you have a gym membership when you’re restless.”

“That’s not true.” I say defensively, even though I know it is very much true. “Anyways, so listen…”

I spare no single tiny detail while telling Natalia about the dream I had last night; the mere retelling of it sending goosebumps down my spine and making my body heat up. If it had been any other person, I would’ve melted into a puddle and died out of embarrassment. But this is Natalia Lycan; there is nothing I could say or do that’ll hold a candle to the shitload of embarrassing things she’s done, and will redo in a heartbeat.

When I finish recounting my dream, Natalia leans back in her chair and puffs out air from her lipstick-dried lips. She contemplates for a moment; tapping a purple, chipped nail-polished finger on the table.

“Maybe he’s not just a werewolf, but an incubus too.” She says at last.

“Tali…” I sigh, shaking my head and playing around with the ice-cream spoon. “We both know there’s no such thing.”

Werewolves? Yeah, sure, I’d believed that because I had been born into a pack, and could’ve been one if something hadn’t gone… wrong. But incubus? Now that seemed a little far fetched and next to impossible.

“Ouch?” Natalia raises an eyebrow —the purple one. “Just because you haven’t met one doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” She says, looking at me pointedly. “Plus, I’ve heard stories about his… night hobbies.”

I shift in my seat; my interest piqued. “Night, hobbies?” I prod, with a spoonful of ice-cream melting in my mouth.

She nods; leaning over the table and cupping the glass of coffee like it’s warm. “Uh huh. Dark, sick, twisted, psycho but arguably sexy things he likes doing in bed.” She whispers conspiratorially.

“Natalia!” I almost choke on my ice-cream. My face warms up with blotches of red —proof of my distress— as I try to put a leash on my imagination.

“What dude?” She says defensively, then shrugs; her bright purple hair shaking limply.“The more you know.”

The temporary silence hangs in the air teasingly, as if giving us both a moment to r****h in this new knowledge of decadence and depravity. My thoughts dip into an imaginary perversion that fastens my heart rate, and I have to shake my head to remind myself of the reality of the situation.

Natalia’s foxy eyes, however, are still glinting with mischief as she continues; “He likes to tie up his w****s. Something about blood kink and knife play.” She wiggles her mismatched black and purple eyebrows at me. “Think you could get off on that?”

I wish there is a serving of french fries next to me so I can throw one at her, but also so I can eat it. “You’re so vulgar.” I say, my stomach growling.

Natalia tips her chin up; puckering her lips. “I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.” She says; quoting Oscar Wilde.

We both close our eyes and reverently chant an “Amen”. An obsession with books —works of Wilde in particular— was one of things that got us talking at the first ever college party I had attended. We were so wildly different, that it came as a shock to have more than the love of books in common. She’s a Philosophy major, and I’m on the brink of getting my degree in Criminal Justice.

Well, was.

What good would the degree be, now that my father wants to sell me off to a man that enjoys tying up his partners.

My shoulders slumps.

Natalia slaps a dollar bill on the table —enough to pay for both our orders, and rises to her feet, grabbing her jacket. “I gotta run. Professor s**t-face keeps bitching about my thesis.” She shrugs the heavy thing on; black boots shuffling, chair scraping against the floor. “Shouldn’t you be in Criminology?”

I glance up at the little blue clock mounted on the counter; squinting to read it. There is still an hour until my afternoon lectures, although I doubt the hour will be enough for me to tick off the growing things in my mental to-do list.

“In an hour.” I answer Natalia. “I’m supposed to meet Justin down the block in fifteen minutes.”

She rolls her eyes; not even attempting to hide her annoyance. “Please tell me you’re breaking up with that fuckbonnet.” She says almost hopefully. “The one good thing that’ll come out of you being married off to Dmitri Amoux is the fact that you get to leave that douchebag’s ass.”

“I don’t have much of a choice.” I reply; my misery deepening a little.

Natalia shoves her phone in the back pocket of her jungle shorts. “Not having many choices is a good thing sometimes. The Paradox of Choice; less is more. You don’t have to feel so overwhelmed.” She pauses, regards me with a calculative gaze.

I hope she doesn’t burst into one of her overly-pretentious philosophical speeches that only ever leaves me thinking about how pointless and weird the human brain can be.

“Mhm…” I spoon more ice-cream into my mouth —melted far more than I liked, but still. I swallow the tasteless slosh. “Better get to Professor s**t-face.”

She grins. “You’re gonna be fine, Detective Fiona Lysidas.”

I suppress an eye roll at the nickname. Fat chance of me ever becoming a detective now. My fate is practically sealed; signed away by the hands of my father that never once cared for me.

As if reading my thoughts; Natalia walks over to me and pats my hair which is already slipping out of its slack ponytail. “We’ll figure something out so you don’t get married to a werewolf with a blood kink against your will.” She assures; tugging the corners of my lips into a smile with her fingers.

Her phone rings; AC/DC’s Highway to Hell blaring through the speakers.

“I’ll catch you later.” She winks at me and jogs out of the cafe, phone in hand, already cussing out whoever is on the other end of the line.

I sit in the cafe until my ice-cream melts, and then I tip Ren after exchanging pleasantries, and I leave.