The Mate's Duty

Quietly, I watched.

My fingers were fixed on the deadliest tool I could find in my box — an M40. It was the perfect weapon for the occasion as I lurked in the shadows via the rooftop of the state building.

Slow, precise, those were the steps I followed. I have never had to be in a rush to get the job done. However, for the first time ever, I was nervous.

Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead. My arms were getting weary and I could feel a headache coming. The damn pressure! But from what?

"Why haven't you made the shot, Carmen?" That was what I got through my comm, distracting me from the task at hand for a bit.

"Hold on. I haven't got a clear target yet."

That was a lie. I already had my target but I found myself fumbling with the trigger.

'What is wrong with me?' I questioned myself inwardly while I struggled to get my breath in check. I could almost hear my heart beating against my chest at this point.

I have never felt this way while on the job before. It almost made me feel like I was new to this. Even when I had my first ever kill, I never experienced this sort of anxiety piling up in me.

"You can take the shot now, Carmen!" My comm came on again. I gritted my teeth in anger from the distraction it caused for a second time.

"Stop telling me how to do my fucking job!" I snapped almost immediately.

"Then get to it already."

I made a mental note to crush the bastard when I finished with this task.

Truly, I could get a shot. Through my lens, I could see the stream of people down below as they made their way across the street with no clue what was about to happen.

My focus was on a particular person paraded by a bunch of men in black suits. Well built men, I must say. They were still puny in my eyes compared to the size of the men in my pack.

I could have taken a headshot and finished the job right there and now, but I was reluctant.

"This is your chance..."

I haven't even had time to process my thoughts when another intrusion got in through the comm. I needed to remain calm, so I responded the best way I could.

"Ryan... Who put you in charge of this operation?" I asked, a little out of frustration.

"The Alpha did."

"And didn't the alpha tell you never to fucking talk when I'm on the job? Huh?" He gave no answer to my question and that was when I added, "One more word from you and the first bullet will be yours."

I didn't trust him enough not to say anything else, which was why I took the chance to turn off the comm, almost destroying it with my free arm. Then, I turned my focus back on the job with the reminder, shot and get out.

This time, I wasn't going to let whatever stupid emotions go through me to hinder me from finishing this up. I adjusted my positioning a bit, cleaned off the beads of sweat that had laid abode to my face, and set my precision again on the target.

"Gustavo Rollins... You're going down."

A clean headshot was what I needed. And as I clocked the M40, I knew I still had that on precision. That was what I thought until the target turned around, giving me his face in full view.

Immediately, my eyes were in direct contact with him, I realized the problem...

He was my mate!