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The bell above the door chimed. It was five minutes to closing, and the customer standing at the mahogany counter was currently holding a bundle of dried herbs under Brandon’s nose.
"Are you sure this is white sage?" the woman asked, her brow furrowed. "It smells a lot like the lavender I bought last week."
Brandon simply looked at her with a flat expression. He adjusted his cuff and spoke in a low, soft tone.
"It is white sage, madam. Lavender is purple; this is grey. Lavender is for sleep; this is for clearing the stagnant energy you brought in with you. Would you like to buy it, or can I return to my ledger?"
The woman bristled, tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, and hurried out. Brandon didn't watch her go. He swept the bill into the register, went used his telekinesis magic to flip the sign to Closed at the glass door at the front of the store, and engaged the heavy iron deadbolt with a flick of his fingers.
Brandon didn’t need the money in the store's register. The King lastname meant billions in the human world and royalty in the magical one.
While his older brother, Landon, an alpha, ran the family’s international holdings and his sister, Glyn, a beta, busied herself in the social and arts scene, Brandon preferred the quiet of his shop. He loved his family, and they were fiercely protective of him, but he had no interest in their billions.
He just wanted his old witchcraft books and his peace.
He was also a rarity: an omega witch, like his mother.
He didn't shift like a werewolf, but he carried the same magnetic pull. It made his magic potent, but it also made him a target for dangerous alphas.
He used his grumpy, introverted act as a shield, most of the time. To not catch the wrong kind of attention. The dangerous kind.
Twenty minutes after closing his magic shop for the day, Brandon was walking through the manicured gardens of the King estate.
The silence of the property was usually his sanctuary, but tonight, his pulse was erratic.
He didn't head for the main manor where his parents were likely finishing dinner.
Instead, he took the gravel path toward the victorian conservatory, a glass cathedral filled with exotic herbs and moonlight inside.
He felt the vibration before he heard it. The low, guttural thrum of a motorcycle engine somewhere beyond the iron fence.
Brandon unlocked the conservatory’s door and stepped into the earthy air inside. He didn't turn on the lights. A shadow was already detached from the darkness near the wooden shelves of plants.
"You’re late, Lotus Flower." a voice rumbled. It was deep, warm.
Nikolai stepped into a patch of moonlight. He looked entirely out of place against the meticulously arranged little pots and delicate orchids. He was wearing his black leather biker jacket, his straight black hair falling down to his shoulders.
"I had a customer who lacked basic knowledge about plants," Brandon said, though his grumpy exterior was already beginning to soften as Nikolai stepped into his personal space. "And don't hop the fence, Nikolai. My parents could have seen you from the windows."
"I know how to be stealthy, don't worry." Nikolai grinned, showing a hint of a fang. He reached out, his fingers hovering near Brandon’s pristine black linen shirt before he thought better of it and dropped his hand. "I missed you."
Brandon looked down at Nikolai’s boots, heavy, and covered in road dust. "We saw each other three days ago. Don't be needy. It’s a bad look for an alpha."
"I can't help it," Nikolai said, stepping closer until Brandon had to tilt his head back slightly. He smelled like pine needles and something primal that made Brandon’s inner omega hum with a traitorous warmth. "I see a black kitten, I want to pet it. Even if the kitten bites."
"The kitten might claw your skin out." Brandon whispered, though he didn't pull away when Nikolai finally settled his large, warm hands on Brandon’s waist.
"I'd be into that..." Nikolai murmured, leaning down with a low, pleased growl.
Brandon caught the front of Nikolai’s jacket, pulling him the rest of the way.
As they kissed, Brandon reminded himself and Nikolai, between breaths. "It's just physical, Nikolai. Nothing more than that. Just sex, no catching feelings, alright?"
Nikolai didn't argue. He just hummed against Brandon’s lips, his grip tightening around Brandon's waist with silent intensity.
Nikolai’s hands moved with practiced ease on the omega's lithe waist. He pulled the witch flush against him, the cold metal zippers of his biker jacket pressing into Brandon's expensive black button-up shirt.
"Just sex." Nikolai repeated, his voice vibrating against Brandon’s mouth. He nuzzled into the crook of Brandon’s neck, taking a deep, territorial inhale of the bergamot and tea scent that clung to the omega’s pale skin. Nikolai said in a growly, hoarse voice, deep with desire for the omega in his arms, "Whatever you say, Lotus. Hm... your scent is so sweet and delicious, baby, it's calling to me, like you're begging to be claimed, though. And your heart is beating pretty fast."
Brandon let out a sharp, annoyed breath, though he leaned his head back to give the wolf better access. "It’s called adrenaline, Nikolai. Look it up. Some of us actually have brains that do more than just hunt and howl."
Nikolai chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that Brandon felt in his own chest. His inner alpha wolf was preening, tail wagging at the familiar, sharp-tongued rejection from the pretty male omega witch.
He shifted his grip, lifting Brandon easily to sit him on the edge of a sturdy wooden worktable. A few pots rattled, the scent of damp soil and crushed mint rising around them in the darkened place, only the moonlight coming in through the glass windows.
"You talk too much," Nikolai murmured. He nipped at Brandon’s jawline, his teeth nipping soft skin that had been pampered by the finest magical oils money could buy. "You missed me, omega. My wolf can smell it on you."
"I didn't miss you." Brandon hissed, his hands sliding up to grip Nikolai’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the leather. "And your inner wolf is a delusional beast. He smells what he wants to smell."
"He smells a pretty omega who wants to be pinned down and bred by the strongest alpha wolf he's ever met. Am I wrong, pup?" Nikolai said hoarsely, his voice deep with desire.
He pulled back just enough to look at the omega. He had the look of a dangerous, obsessed predator. The exact type of alpha Brandon swore he'd never get involved with. Now, here Brandon was, about to give in once more.
Brandon glared at him form under his eyelashes, his eyes narrowed. But then he reached out, his pale hand trailing almost tentatively over the scarred leather of Nikolai's jacket before grabbing the Alpha’s hair and pulling him back down for a bruising kiss.
"Shut up and fuck me, Nikolai."
Nikolai’s response was a dark, pleased growl that echoed through the glass walls of the conservatory. He didn't need a formal confession; he knew the way Brandon’s magic and scent flared, warm and inviting despite the sharp words, was the only truth he was going to get tonight.
Nikolai didn’t waste time with finesse. He leaned in, his large frame crowding Brandon against the edge of the worktable. With a single, sweeping motion, he cleared a space for Brandon to sit, sliding the pots further down the bench rather than knocking them over. He knew how much Brandon valued his rare specimens, and even in a lust-drunk haze, the alpha was careful not to ruin the Witch's work.
Brandon sat on the edge of the table, his heels digging into Nikolai’s lower back to haul him closer.
Brandon was slender and delicate as an omega, even though he was tall, his frame thin enough that Nikolai’s broad shoulders seemed to block out the rest of the room.
The alpha was a wall of solid muscle and heat, his thighs twice the width of Brandon's as he stepped between the witch’s legs.
When Nikolai reached out, his large, calloused hands wrapped around Brandon’s waist, his fingers almost meeting at the spine. Brandon looked fragile against him, his pale, thin legs hooked tightly around the Alpha, but there was nothing delicate about the way he gripped Nikolai’s leather jacket to pull him in.
He was dwarfed by the wolf’s size, swallowed up in the space between Nikolai’s chest and the table, but he held his own, meeting the Alpha's brute strength with a sharp, demanding tension of his own.
Nikolai’s wolf was close to the surface, his breathing heavy and hot against Brandon’s neck. He didn't use his alpha-voice, and Brandon didn't use his magic spells; this was the only part of their lives that was purely physical.
They took their clothes out of the way hurriedly while kissing on the mouth, and Nikolai kissing and biting at Brandon's neck and collarbons between low growls and Brandon's needy moans.
When Nikolai pushed inside him, it was deep and demanding, with thrusts that sent the scent of omega and alpha swirling through the air in the night.
Brandon gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white, his head falling back. He hated how much he needed this, the heavy, grounding weight of an alpha to anchor his sharp, restless energy.
Nikolai groaned, a low vibration that started in his chest and ended against Brandon’s skin, his hands firm on Brandon’s thighs to keep him locked in place.
It was over in a frantic burst of heat that left them both breathless in the dark.
For a moment, Nikolai lingered. He pressed his forehead against Brandon’s, his heart thudding against Brandon’s ribs. He inhaled deeply, an instinctive, silent "marking" of the Omega’s scent that would take hours to wash off.
"You're shaking, Lotus," Nikolai whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
"I’m cold," Brandon lied, his voice still trembling. He pushed at Nikolai’s chest, reestablishing the wall between them. "Get off me. You’re heavy and you smell like a dog."
Nikolai huffed a laugh as the haze cleared. He stepped back, adjusted his clothes, and watched Brandon with those bright, annoying eyes. Brandon stood up, smoothing his hair and straightening his shirt with fingers that wouldn't quite stop shaking.
"Same time Friday?" Nikolai asked, reaching out to playfully tug a lock of Brandon’s brown hair away from his light blue eyes.
Brandon swatted his hand away. "Maybe. If I’m not busy. Now go, before the night watchman does his rounds around the manor. I don’t want to explain why a wolf is loitering in the orchids."
Nikolai winked, pulled his helmet from the shadows, and slipped out the side door. A minute later, the distant, muffled roar of his bike signaled he had cleared the estate's outer wall.
Brandon stood alone in the dark conservatory for a long minute, breathing in the lingering scent of alpha wolf. He looked at the perfectly arranged pots on the shelf, undisturbed despite the chaos of the last twenty minutes.
He straightened his cuffs and began the walk back to the manor. He had to shower thoroughly before the scent of a certain biker werewolf became something his brother Landon wouldn't catch at breakfast.