51. Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-One
Knox
I sit at my desk with the morning reports filed neatly in my datapad, the latest drone footage summarized in Shade's unbiased, no-nonsense style.
I mark three items for immediate discussion in this morning's briefing and close the file just as I hear footsteps approaching my office door.
The knock comes a second before the door opens.
Halley slips inside without waiting for me to invite her in, and I feel the tension in my shoulders melt away the way it always does when she enters any room. She crosses to my desk, her attention flicking once over the datapad before settling on me.
"You look very stern, General Knox."
"I am a very stern person, Omega Specialist Sparks."
Her mouth curves with a knowing smile, and a mischievous glint appears in her beautiful purple eyes. "Not always, in my experience."
I exhale and force myself not to think about how unleashed she made me feel in the nest yesterday. I clear my throat and sit up straighter in my chair.
I expect her to ask something about the briefing, which is due to begin soon. Instead, she stops beside my chair and reaches for my collar.
Her fingers smooth the edge of the fabric, straighten the fold, then flatten the front of my jacket with small, efficient touches that have no business affecting me as much as they do. I don't move and let her work.
"You had it twisted," she says.
I sniff. "I was aware."
She grins, giving my collar a tug harder than necessary. "Liar, you were not."
I arch a brow. "You seem very confident for someone correcting a superior officer."
She simply rolls her eyes, then pats the front of my jacket once before nodding in approval.
Before she can draw back, I catch her wrist.
Her pulse jumps beneath my thumb, and I turn her hand, pressing my lips to her knuckles.
Since the end of the battle, I haven't been able to stop touching her, and I have no intention of stopping. I feel touch-starved, which is probably an accurate diagnosis considering I went the first few decades of my life without a hint of intimacy.
Halley pauses for a moment, then softens and relaxes into my touch. Possessiveness curls low in my chest, and I can't help but nip at her skin so that it leaves a pink welt. I want my marks on her where others can see. The pink flush on her cheeks tells me she likes it too.
My claiming bite is hidden beneath her jacket, but even thinking about the white semi-circle scars of my teeth imprinted on her forever gets my blood pumping.
A movement in the hallway pulls my attention to the still-open sliver of doorway. One of the junior aides passing by glances in, sees us, squeaks in alarm, and scurries off.
It's not from fear or judgment at our open affection, but because with our Pack, there is no telling how fast things can escalate between us. I want her constantly and obsessively, and I feel the same desire from her pulsing through the healed bond.
I let her hand go by degrees, more because I have to than because I want to.
"The briefing starts in three minutes," I say.
Halley’s eyes lift to mine, bright with mischief and entirely too pleased with herself. There is a promise in that look. Not now, but soon. The knowledge of it settles low in my body and stays there.
She rolls her shoulder, flicks her ponytail back, and settles at my side with easy certainty.
The difference in her still captures my attention.
When I first met her, she stood out for all the wrong reasons.
She was an Omega trying to force herself through military training in a place that did not want her there.
She had no confidence then, only stubbornness and the refusal to quit.
Every step forward cost her something, but she kept paying anyway.
At times, it was difficult to watch, while at others, I couldn't look away.
Now she looks entirely at home in my office, standing beside my desk like she belongs in the middle of decisions that affect the whole future of our people. She has earned that place, and everyone in Blackgate knows it, me most of all.
Her eyes meet mine, bright with intent. Whatever she started between us a moment ago is not finished. It's only waiting for the meeting to end.
"I think someone should formally acknowledge in the meeting minutes that I just spared Blackgate the scandal of its General attending a command briefing looking rumpled."
"Your heroism has been recorded for posterity."
Her smile widens. "Good. I’d hate for my service to go unrewarded."
She bends just enough to bring her mouth near my ear, her voice warm and low and meant only for me. "You can thank me properly later, sir."
Heat strikes through me, and I choke on my next breath. I picture her lying on our nest, her ass on the edge of the mattress and her thighs spread wide, held open by my shoulders as I feast on her dripping cunt.
She straightens as if she didn't intentionally plant a dirty image in my mind, and faces the door with an innocent expression.
Brat.
The first of the officers steps into the room before I can answer out loud. I swallow the response that wants out and let it travel the only path available to me instead.
'You are in an extraordinary amount of trouble, princess.' My heated promise flashes down the bond.
Halley doesn't turn around, but her mouth twitches and satisfaction curls through the bond from her all the same.
The rest of the room fills quickly after that.
Prime Alpha Zero enters, followed by Jason and Shade. The Prime Alpha commanders file in behind them with the Communications and Logistics specialists close behind. Chairs scrape, datapads light up, and the low murmur of side conversations cuts off once everyone takes their place.
Halley does not step back from my desk when they enter.
She stays where she is at my right side, steady and completely certain of her place. Nobody questions it or so much as glances twice. One of the Communications specialists passes her a datapad with the latest intercept summaries before he even acknowledges me.
I notice.
So does everyone else.
As General of Blackgate Fortress, I sit at the top of the chain of command, but after what Halley did in the battle, no one in this room doubts her value.
Prime Alpha Zero drops into the seat opposite us and gives Halley a brief nod, still unable to make eye contact with her, his guilt a heavy weight he carries. "Omega Specialist Sparks."
Halley returns it with a warm smile. "Prime Alpha Zero."
The room quiets fully, and twenty pairs of eyes turn toward my desk.
"Specialist Shade, begin with an update from Comms."
Shade, seated beside Jason, opens his datapad. "I’ve updated the spread projections from yesterday’s communication intercepts. They’re in the shared folder for this briefing."
Tapping sounds fill the room as everyone uses their datapad to pull up the reports.
Jason adds, "Automated surveillance is already running on the new rotation schedule."
Good.
Shade and Jason have spent the last few weeks building a surveillance network that closes one of General Stone’s most dangerous gaps in Blackgate’s defenses. Cameras now monitor the vulnerable roads and mountain paths around the clock, flagging movement in Communications.
Before this, constant surveillance cost us manpower, which made it easier for an exhausted soldier to miss something important. Now the cameras will share that burden, shortening rotations and allowing my soldiers to recover between shifts.
Honestly, I have enough self-awareness now to know that a year ago, I would have called exhaustion the price of readiness and expected everyone under my command to pay it without complaint. Now I know better, thanks to Halley changing me.
Saving Blackgate, and Blackreach by extension, isn't worth it if everything good worth living for has been stripped away.
I fold my hands on the desk and bring my focus back to the room.
"Good," I say aloud. "I want patrols used where judgment is required, not wasted standing in the cold to prove they can endure it."
A few of the commanders nod. A year ago, I know they would also have thought of it as coddling, but after only a few weeks, they've begun to accept my new way of leading.
I glance to my right. "Omega Specialist Sparks. Your assessment of the status of your Omega Command."
Halley does not hesitate. The Omega Command is hers, and with only some very gentle nudging from me, she's accepted all responsibility for monitoring and assessing it.
"The retreat is still holding as of this morning, but it's not stable.
Their leaders don't remember the reason for the invasion, and right now, they are confused. "
Intercepted communications paint the same picture. Their command structure is in disarray. Units are requesting directions that never come, their officers are contradicting each other, and entire chains of command appear to be circling the same question without anyone able to answer it.
Why are they here?
The answer used to be us.
Now it's gone from their collective memory.
Halley continues, "Someone will eventually make sense of the confusion the Command has created, identify the memory gap, and trace it back to us. When they do, they’ll come back harder and with more caution. That means we need to continue to prepare for attacks in the future."
She is right.
"That is our operating assumption," I say, looking around the room.
"We stay ready, preserve the welfare of our people first, and prepare to defend ourselves when they return.
We have the Omega Command online now, so our strategy will need refining in the coming weeks.
Now, let's dig into how we're going to do that. "
The rest of the briefing passes in the usual rhythm of questions, updates, and decisions, but my attention keeps returning to Halley.
Not because she needs watching or babysitting in an environment like this, but because she doesn't. She's a natural leader.
She handles herself with the same calm certainty she's had since her death washed away the years of crushing self-esteem issues. She speaks when necessary, says exactly what needs saying, and never wastes words trying to prove she belongs here.
She's incredible.
And fuck, her competency and confidence are rut-damn sexy.
I catch some of the Prime Alphas looking at her with something more than just admiration, and my possessiveness curls at the edge of my restraint.
They can look all they want, but she belongs to me. To my Pack. In our nest.
By the time the last datapad is closed and the final acknowledgment is given, I'm hard and thankful for the desk hiding the strain in my trousers.
Finally, chairs scrape back and orders for the next three days are confirmed.
Officers file out, already moving on to their next responsibilities.
Zero leaves without looking directly at Halley even once, and Jason gives us both a glance that carries entirely too much awareness for my liking before following Shade into the hall.
'Don't make a mess,' Shade says with a snicker in my mind, and I yank hard on our bond in retaliation, satisfied by the distant yelp that echoes from the hall.
The door shuts behind the last of them.
Silence settles over the office.
I automatically reach for my datapad on the corner of my desk, pulling up the reports I was reading before the meeting. There is always another file to review, another decision to make, another task waiting to be handled before someone brings it to me.
Then I realize Halley has not moved.
I look up.
She is still standing at my right side, one hip against the edge of my desk, watching me with an expression I know well enough now to distrust on sight.
"You forgot to dismiss me, General," she says.
My grip tightens slightly on the datapad. "You don't require formal dismissal, you know that."
"No?" Her gaze drops to my mouth for a second, then returns to my eyes. "That’s not the impression I got from the way you were glaring at me for the last hour and thirty minutes."
"I was not glaring at you."
"You were." She pushes off the desk and takes a slow step closer until her hip presses against my side. "Very sternly."
"I am, as you pointed out earlier, a very stern person."
That gets a smile out of her. It's small and pleased, dangerous because I'm dancing right into whatever game she's playing. Sometimes I think she spends too much time with Blaze, and his impish ways are rubbing off on her.
"No," she says softly. "You're not. At least, not with me."
I should tell her to go and finish the paperwork in front of me while my head is still clear. I should do several things that would be sensible and responsible, and entirely in keeping with the important position I hold.
Instead, I sit there and watch as she catches the back of my chair and turns it toward her. By the time it stops, she is standing between my knees, bent over me with one hand planted on each armrest and a wicked smirk promising pleasure.