There are only a few betas there, and as we approach, I somehow immediately know which booth we are heading toward.
My eyes lock onto that person from about a hundred and fifty feet away.
This particular booth is set at a solid distance from the others. There is one person inside, but two chairs are placed in front of the glass. A police officer is sitting in one, and an older omega in the other.
Storm heads toward them with a purposeful stride.
I experience a sudden pull in my chest, surprised at the wave of nerves that has appeared out of nowhere.
Of course, I do not allow myself to think that this could be my fated mate, but why not at least entertain the idea for a moment?
We stop in front of the booth. Only then does the young beta inside lift his head, and my eyes meet his.
My body reacts as if jolted by electricity. I have to clench my hands into fists to keep them from trembling.
Our eyes lock. Wow.
The man is young, close to my age. Part of his hair on the left side of his head is shaved short, exposing scalp tattoos I cannot make out from this distance. The other half is dyed a deep blue,though black roots are visible, as if the dye did not fully take. His hair falls a few inches past his collarbones.
He has a ring in his nostril, eyebrow piercings, and several earrings in the ear I can see.
There are tattoos on his neck as well, trailing down toward his collarbones. He is dressed in what looks like a blue jumpsuit, marking his status as a felon.
Since he is sitting, it is hard to judge his height, but he looks slender. His forearms, visible beneath rolled-up sleeves, are also covered in tattoos.
His expression is indifferent, and he looks at me the way he probably looks at any other employee. He may assume I am just one of Storm’s associates. I certainly do not look like a serious client with deep pockets.
The older omega sitting next to the police officer stands up when he sees Storm.
"I brought someone interesting, Mr. Gessler."
The older omega raises his eyebrows. They are thick and bushy, and he has a small goatee. He does not look particularly friendly.
"What do you mean, Mr. Nolan?"
"The young man I met outside the building is Salt’s True Mate."
A strange silence falls. The omega’s gaze shifts to me. I make an innocent face and shrug slightly, as if to say,sorry, this was his idea, not mine.
The omega does not fall for it, obviously.
"Are you joking, Mr. Nolan? Salt is a beta. That alone reduces the chances to nearly zero."
"Not to zero. My own brother has a beta as his fated mate, so it does happen."
"May we speak privately for a moment?" the omega says, narrowing his eyes.
Storm shoots me a tense look.
"Will you wait here for a bit?"
"I can wait, but make it quick."
Storm rolls his eyes slightly, then steps aside with the omega. The difference in their height is almost comical.
I am left alone with the police officer, who studies me with an equally amused expression.
For some reason, I really want to avoid looking at the man inside the glass booth, the one I understand is named Salt.
