The Alpha's Forbidden Mistress

Naomi's POV

"First, Elora Daniels," I say, pacing back and forth.

Vincent tilts his head back and groans in pain. Naomi..."She resides on the Pack's western border. Her father has several prosperous orchards on his enormous tract of property. I c*ck my head to the side. "Impressive."

Vincent shifts in his seat and shakes his head. I've confined him to the chair in front of the fire and made him listen to me read four different profiles that describe possible future wives.

Alphas must be married. Tradition is important, and Vincent is falling short in that regard. With his obsidian eyes following me as I pace in front of him, he murmurs, "I'm not interested."

I scowl at the description as my finger moves down the page. "These are really thorough. Unsettling. “Then cease staring at them. Elora appears to be of average height. I exhale deeply. "Angel 's-forbid they be specific...Has brown hair and brown, almost black eyes."

As Vincent runs his hand over his face, I look up from the page.

It will always be thrilling to have him sitting here at my whim. He is the owner of all the authority in this room. I do, however, have a great deal of control over it.

It's the advantage of being the best friend of the Alpha. Alright, just a pal. Does all of this have any significance for me? His black hair is tousled, and he raises a dark brow till it vanishes beneath it. It is as sinister as his name implies. She does, however, limp a little. I touch my chin.

He flickers his eyes. "They added that?"

I suppress my laughter with my hand. He is overly serious about everything. No, but the person who wrote this misrepresented her. She seems to have very good posture. Knowing that it probably needs some attention, I straighten.

It appears that his mother is making an effort to accommodate his pickiness. He says he's not choosy; he's just not interested in getting married just yet.

I keep pacing, and his eyes follow my every move. "This is disturbing, Naomi. “Most importantly, she is courteous, soft-spoken, and has standing among her peers," I inform him. Such qualities are valued by some, but Vincent doesn't seem to be one of them, based on the way his face instantly goes wrong. That's not enticing at all.

Exasperated, I turn the page down. "It's not her fault she's been bred to be married off to a wealthy, powerful man like you."

For a large portion of our early years, Vincent and I chastised the traditions and practices that governed his life, as well as the lives of many others of noble origin.

Additionally, we were powerless to stop it for an equal amount of time.

For me, it's simple. I am nobody. Nine years ago, my mother arrived here with me. She had little money and was looking for a job. She was graciously offered a job as Vincent's mother's helper.

I took over the position after my mother passed away. This girl doesn't need to be concerned about being married to me.

I give him a fake pout. "But it says here that she has ample birthing hips."

He shakes his head, as if he doesn't trust me. "Stop joking around. “No, really. I flip the forms over and indicate where they are printed on the page. "Whoever wrote this has detailed how likely it is she will provide heirs."

Vincent massages his temples while extending his long legs in front of him. “This is torture. “Okay, then. Before looking at the following one, I tucked Elora's form to the bottom. "Lexa Vale. “Naomi, stop. "I'm serious," Vincent says in a forceful enough tone that I do comply. I am aware of when to back off and when to push him.

This explains why our friendship is so successful. I remind him, letting go of my arms but holding onto the documents, "Your mother asked me to show these to you." Eventually, he will have to give these a chance.

even though he appears to be thinking about how fast they will catch fire as soon as they come into contact with the flames in the fireplace behind him. He reiterates, "I don't want to marry any of these women." "This entire process is artificial."

I move in his direction. "You have no interest in anyone. anybody. You became Alpha two years ago. It's customary to be married within a year.

He gives an eye roll.

Sometimes I feel like strangling him, but then I think about how awful it must be to be in a relationship that is based on power rather than love.

He hasn't told me that he's having trouble with that. He does not need to. Every time it is brought up, I can tell because of how exhausted he appears.

He is currently slumped in his chair, appearing almost destroyed, but he still manages to look like the ideal Alpha.

Numerous Alphas have passed through this manor over the years. I don't think any of them are comparable to Vincent.

His enormous stature contributes to the intimidating effect. That, along with the fact that he is incredibly well-built and has noticeable muscles even when he is dressed in his biggest clothes.

However, it goes beyond that. Even I occasionally sense his passion and the subtle hint of danger.

What it would be like to be someone he truly wants dead is beyond my comprehension.

The most crucial thing for me to keep in mind is that while I can appreciate him as an Alpha, Vincent is off bounds. Not negotiable.

More often than not, I have respected Vincent in ways that go beyond what makes him a good friend. I even find him to be deliriously handsome. If he ever developed a sexual interest in me, there would be no escaping the intensity of his raw s*x appeal.

He has never, ever approached me. We are only buddies.

Although I believe I've always been in love with him, it wasn't until these past few years that I gave him any sexual thought. He's grown cynical and more difficult to get to since becoming Alpha, but he's also more fuckable.

What's the matter with me?

I am aware that's not how he views me. Sometimes, especially when our friendship is so important to me, it feels terrible to fantasize.

I'm guessing that the only reason I'm attracted to him is that I can't have him. He's not going to be married to someone like me. He says sharply, "I'm picking my wife, not my next meal." "If I decide on anyone, it won't be based on some arbitrary profile flaunting their supposed merits."

I move near enough to flick his nose as I sigh. He dismisses my hand with a bat. How else are you going to meet your wife? Any lady who isn't me makes you turn your nose up. I fold my arms across my chest and raise my eyebrows.

His eyes narrow a little. "Mmm."I give him a half smile and quip, "Then again, I doubt you see me as much of a woman."

I've never been anything like a sexual creature to him; I've always just been his friend.

He remains silent. He merely looks at me.

Ignoring the burning in his eyes, I charge forward. "A woman of high birth must be your spouse. Or for her to be accepted as Luna, she must be extremely affluent or well-regarded."

He cocks his head to one side. "Or she should be my mate. “I remind him, offering him a corny smile that just makes him shake his head. "Such a finding only comes from actually getting to know someone," I say.

It usually takes until about the age of eighteen for the mate bond to solidify. It varies from person to person and may take longer. We have both outgrown it, and while there is a possibility that we will develop a mate relationship, I have now given up on that hope.

To be honest, I have had dreams about it.

He holds his hand out. "Here, give me the papers. “No. "I press them against my chest. “Oh, so all of a sudden I'm unable to find my future wife? “You’re simply going to throw them into the fire?" I glare at him while placing my hands on my hips.

He groans and tilts his head back. "Great, so now I can't find a wife, and I'm predictable?"

I move away to keep myself out of his reach and tuck the paperwork behind my back. He would only need to take one stride to reach me due to his height, and his power would make it impossible to stop them.

Unfortunately, I always outwit him. I like to think I do, though. A woman will be won over by your radiant charm. Like he's irresistible, I flutter my eyes.

I guess he is. For most people. He still has hordes of devoted fans who leave innumerable notes with staff in the hopes that he will notice them, despite the atmosphere of death that envelops him.

I've read a few. I still have scars from the raunchy ones.

He looks at me blankly. "Ha ha."

I clear my throat and look over the form one again. "Lexa Vale, as I mentioned. Shorter than average, with green eyes and black hair. But nothing about hips during childbirth."" Naomi," he murmurs.

I stop and glance up at him. Even when he's reprimanding me, his gentleness still astounds me. It contradicts everyone's perception of him. “I challenge you, Vincent."Alright, I'll examine them tomorrow.

I nod and sigh. He's obviously frustrated, and it's late. Okay. I fall into the other chair after tossing the forms onto his desk.

I silently examine him while he stands, running a hand through his somewhat curly hair. He is just a few inches away from needing to bend his head to stand upright.

Something is weighing him down. He's given up more for his Pack than being married; it can't be this. However, I always let him come to me first rather than pressuring him about his sentiments. I breathe, "There are moments when I forget that everyone is afraid of you. “They’re not afraid. They lack knowledge. Observing the sparks that emerge from the embers, he tosses another log onto the fire.

I tell myself that it's not his grumpiness. But are they?

He looks back at me. "You tell me."Even the most significant individuals who enter the manor are prickly with you. On a stage in front of your people, you've defeated people within an inch of their lives. He interrupts, "They deserved it."

A sigh of exhalation. Although I tend to think that there is more to him than meets the eye, it is understandable that he is perceived by some as a cold, calculated leader. I murmur, "You've even killed before."

He simply flexes his fingers while gazing into the fire. "As I said, they deserved it."

His skin and hair had been dyed rich, vivid tones of orange and red by the fire's radiance. He appears more sinister than usual when the light flickers from the delicacy of his mouth to the powerful lines of his jaw.

I force my eyes to my hands as I blink. I observe, "You scare people, which is why I am still a virgin and have very few friends."

He looks back at me with a burning hot gaze that seems to have gained heat from staring into the fire. "I have nothing to do with your virginity."

I squint at him. Nothing? He behaves as if even the most courageous guys cannot be deterred by his sheer presence. I calmly remind him, putting my arms across my chest, "There was a time when someone bumped into me at a public event, and you struck him round the head so hard he probably has never recovered."

Pretending to think, he massages his jaw. "I don't remember that."

He does, indeed. “You had a man on his knees pleading for forgiveness after he stepped in a muddy puddle and splashed a little onto my hem," I continue."Hmm."Remember the time I scuffed my knee after tripping? You dismissed the gardener and told him he was fortunate that you didn't follow him home and set fire to his house while he slept after learning that it was because he neglected to properly pick up his tools and left them in the garden walk. I move to sit on the side of his big bed. "I doubt that poor man has had a good night's sleep since."

Vincent shrugs. "So?"

Incredulous, I shake my head. Vincent is, at best, morally dubious. On certain days, he is extremely rigorous about behavior, reprimanding employees who mistreat one another and enforcing strict laws to prevent injury to anyone. On other days, he pursues assassins, conspirators, and outright criminals for fun. I try to put everything together by saying, "So, men are probably too scared to come close enough to me to risk f*ck*ng up and getting in trouble with you."

With his hands in his pockets, which seems too casual given the way he's speaking at the moment, he takes a few steps in my direction. If someone hurts you, Naomi, I'll chain them up in the middle of the Pack and bleed them until everyone swears they won't hurt you again." In his view, there is nothing but unwavering will.

He has a purpose for saying that. He really does mean it. You're quite dramatic." I roll my eyes, knowing that if I'm involved, he won't harm anyone. "Although you are my best friend, you are terrifying. “I wish to keep you safe." His tone becomes softer.

I point to the forms that are spread out on the desk. "Find a wife, protect her, and let me move on with my life."

He ruffles my hair as he moves forward. "Unfortunate. I will continue to bug you."

Muttering to myself, I push him away. When he does it, I detest it. I feel like he's making fun of me and we're fifteen again. “Are you going to sit and lose this card game, or have you finished performing my mother's dirty work?" He grabs the stack off his bedside table and uses his thumb to flip through the cards.

I'll fall for the bait even if he's diverting my attention.

I sit cross-legged on the floor after sliding off the bed and wait for him to join me. "As if I'm losing to the likes of you."

Vincent's POV

I walk along the hallway with almost no sound. “Where do you think you're heading?"

I stop, scowling, then turn. With eager black eyebrows, my mother emerges from her office.

We have a lot in common and are practically the same person. Regretfully, I'm not only referring to our physical resemblances. I lie and say, "Nowhere, mother. I was coming to talk to you." I had avoided her so well today. Well, I believed that. She taps her fingers across her biceps while crossing her arms. "Did you look over those profiles Naomi was meant to bring you? “Oddly enough, Naomi stumbled as she entered my room, sending all of the profiles into the flames. I pat her shoulder and smile.

She rolls her eyes and dismisses me. "Vincent."

Her tone of exasperation makes me sigh. Without a meaningful union, she and Naomi act as though the Pack is ready to disintegrate. “I read them," I said. "And I'm not interested."

She doesn't seem