Years ago,when he still had time to watch TV, Emory had seen a nature special on how some animals would actually gnaw off their own limb to escape a hunter’s trap. At the time, he hadn’t understood what sort of desperation could drive a creature to do something like that.
He thought he understood it pretty well now.
They were over three hours into the gala, and while nothing catastrophic had happened, Emory’s night had been suitably derailed, and he was about ready to gnaw his own arm off if it meant he could leave.
As far as the guests were concerned, the event was a smashing success. The room was packed, the entertainment was great, and the food and drinks were flowing. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing that was flowing. Rumors about his estranged cousin seemed to be on half the guests' lips. It turned out, almost a decade ago, he had founded his own organization and then moved on to lead a second. Emory had been forced to navigate numerous conversations with other company executives, heads of influential families, and members of his own family about what would happen when Jonathon finally reappeared.
Emory didn’t have the slightest idea what was going to happen because anytime he tried to bring it up to his mother, she brushed it off. The aunts were happy to gossip about it, but when Emory tried to push for developing a strategy, they squawked about it being Emory’s job to handle.
Emory had been responsible for hosting the first half of the event, and he was tempted to make a blanket announcement that no, he was not aware of Jonathon’s whereabouts right now. In fact, he wasn’t aware of anything to do with his beloved cousin. The hurt that had long since settled about being abandoned by his cousin and best friend flared to life anytime someone asked him, so he really just needed everyone tostop asking him!
He obviously couldn’t say any of that, though.
Obviously.
So instead, he was currently being hounded by an obnoxious flock of flamingos they did business with down in the South. They were notorious gossips on a good day, but today they were ruthless. Emory could swear he could almost see their long beaks pecking at him, trying to find any weakness in him and his company that meant they should take their business elsewhere.
He had only had to use this trick once before, but he subtly took his phone out of his pocket and announced he was getting a call. He hurried away, pressing the silent phone to his ear as he headed for a semi-empty table in the back of the room. He sat down with a soft huff, and since his phone was already in his hand, he began scrolling through Cameron’s social media page. It had become a bad habit of his over the past few nights to look at photos of his fated mate when he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus, or generallycouldn’t.
The number of times he felt like hejust couldn’tanymore was growing alarmingly fast.
Someone at the table tried to talk to him, but he gave them a vague response and stood up to continue his rounds of the room. His focus drifted in and out between conversations as his lion became more and more agitated. He had never liked events like this, but today it all felt like too much.
He began moving faster from group to group, hoping that if he could finish one full round of the room, he could call it a job well done and go find Christopher. He hadn’t seen much of his COO, and he desperately needed a friend right now.
As an alpha and omega business partner duo approached him, he wished, for the fiftieth time that evening, that he had asked Cameron to come. He managed to make it through three more interactions before he finally spotted Christopher. He was watching Emory closely, but when Emory tried to go to him, he was intercepted by two of his mother's guests.
He tried to focus on the conversation, he really did, but his lion was anxiously growling, and he couldn’t stop tapping his foot. One of the guests gave him a strange look, but was quickly pulled back into the conversation by his partner. Another guest made a joke that Emory missed half of, and when he tried to fake a laugh, it came out more like a seal bark. He cleared his throat and excused himself to go get some water.
He made it halfway to the refreshments table when his lion began to keen pathetically. Gods, Emory also wasn’t enjoying the event, but he didn’t think it wasthatbad. Sure, he was incredibly uncomfortable in his suit, which had somehow gotten tighter and more uncomfortable since the last time he wore it. He also missed Cameron so badly it felt like his bones were aching, and he hadn’t been fully present in a conversation in hours, but?—
Emory was snapped out of his musing when a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders and led him off to a secluded corner. Both his and his lion's hackles raised, and he was ready to rip himself out of the person’s grasp when he recognized Christopher’s scent.
“Chris—”
“Emory, I need you to listen very closely to me. Can you do that?” Christopher murmured.
He had them facing the stage where a jazz duet was performing, but Christopher seemed to be blocking Emory from the audience’s view.
“I… Yes, I can list?—”
“Okay. Then I need you to understand that I am saying this as your friend and not as your COO because gods know, this would be grounds for a sexual harassment charge if anyone else did it, but… Emory, you’ve been sporting an erection for a solid twenty minutes now.”
Emory tried to rip out of Christopher’s grasp, but he held strong, digging his fingers into Emory’s shoulder. “What?—”
“I’ve also watched you glare daggers at every alpha who approached you, and you practically bowled over two omegas as you walked to the drinks table.”
Emory jerked his head around and saw that there were, in fact, several omegas milling about, casting them slightly confused looks.
“I didn’t even see them. I can apologize right now if–”
“Em, you’re not hearing me,” Christopher said through gritted teeth. “You’ve had an erection, you’re growling at alphas, it’s like other omegas don’t even exist to you, and I can practically smell the pheromones rolling off you. I know your time of year isn’t for another few months, but I think you might be?—”
“In rut,” Emory gasped.
His knees tried to give out, so he leaned the bulk of his weight into Christopher’s side. Christopher must have been anticipating this, or maybe that Emory would run, because he was able to maintain his solid grip around his shoulder with no more than a quick shuffle step.
“Yes, I suspect so. I’m not sure if it started when you saw Cameron two days ago or?—”
