Chapter 3 - Weakness

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Luckily, Alpha Dean's office was on the same floor, so our walk didn't take much time at all, and for that, I was thankful. The awkwardness that radiated between myself and his stone-cold guards was extremely uncomfortable.

Once we approached the door, the guard knocked loudly, and the sound of Alpha Dean yelling "enter" from the other side immediately followed. The guard nodded to me as he pushed the door open and allowed me to walk inside.

His office was decorated very similar to his personal quarters, with various dark elements and flecks of white here and there. I quickly took in my surroundings before focusing my attention on the powerful man in front of me – my mate.

He stood behind his desk, obviously awaiting my presence, before motioning to the chair in front of his desk, requesting that I take a seat. I obeyed and sat down across from him, only the large, wooden desk between us, as Alpha Dean sat in his own plush office chair. We stared at each other again. That seemed to be all we were good at.

Feeling brave, I decided to speak up.

"Alpha Dean," I started, clearing my throat a bit, "You requested my presence?"

"Please, just call me Dean, Audrey," he replied, his deep voice sounding slightly irritated.

I nodded and gave him an apologetic look. Our first conversation of the day and I'd already disappointed him.

"I just wanted to ask you a few questions," he said, grabbing a pen and a small note pad. "What size clothing do you wear? I'm sending one of my personal servants out to buy you some new clothes today."

I continued to stare at him, completely baffled by his words, "I-I don't know."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at me, but that was an honest answer. I'd had the same clothing for years at a time, and most of them were hand-me-downs from the Omegas I worked with. Nothing fit appropriately.

"When was the last time you went shopping, Audrey?" he asked.

I had to think hard about that question, because once again, I had no idea. It would've had to have been when my mother was still alive. My cheeks heated up, turning a shade of deep pink as I was terribly embarrassed about the answer I was about to give.

"About ten years ago," I said softly, my voice barely a whisper.

Alpha Dean's expression was completely unreadable. His eyes had darkened very slightly, as something about my answer seemed to anger him. At the same time, however, he seemed confused. I couldn't blame him – there was no way he could've known about the life I'd come from with my father.

"Very well then," Dean mumbled, deciding not to question my further. "I'll just estimate and we can go from there."

He scribbled down several things on his note pad before looking back up at me with inquisitive eyes, "What do you like to do, little mate?"

This time, I was the one furrowing my eyebrows. What did I like to do? For the past ten years, all I'd done was cook and clean. I did enjoy cooking, but something told me that wasn't the kind of answer Dean was looking for. My only memories of fun, enjoyable activities were from when I was a child, and those things no longer interested me.

Sensing my confusion and expecting an answer like my previous one, Dean spoke up again.

"If you could spend your free time doing something, what would it be? Do you enjoy reading? Writing?"

I thought over his question carefully, although I wasn't sure why such trivial things mattered to him. I believed I would like reading and writing, but they seemed like tasks that would bore me after a while.

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