Chapter Twelve
Halley
Frack.
I’m an idiot.
I’m torn between feeling stupid for not noticing his name badge sooner and being frustrated that he’s being such a dick about it. I’ve never thought of myself as shy, but I’m not sure how to deal with his attitude.
Besides, why would I expect a Prime Alpha to be the one meeting me on arrival? I’m so far below his rank I’m basically a speck of dust on his spotless uniform. He should have his hands full, directing hundreds of soldiers.
Prime Alpha Knox gestures to a bed at the back corner of the tent. There’s a folding metal framed cot with a thin mattress and a scratchy looking brown blanket folded on top of a flat pillow. “This is your bunk.”
I look at the sad-looking bed and back at the Alpha. Surely it’s some kind of mistake. I wasn’t expecting anything five-star, but certainly not this.
I can’t sleep in the same space as Alphas! And I certainly can’t build a nest here.
My lips part to protest, but the words get caught in my throat when he spears me with his gaze. He’s intimidating enough without annoying him further.
Finally, I nod and place my backpack at the base of the bed. I’ll figure out what he wants me to do about my nest later. It’s still morning, after all.
“Listen closely, because I will only say this once,” he says, like I’d be able to focus on anything other than him. Despite his distasteful attitude, my body is responding powerfully to his presence. The hairs on my arms are raised, my heart pounding, and my scent is growing stronger by the second.
“You will not touch anything without permission, and you will not speak unless spoken to. If I have to repeat an order, there will be consequences.” He looks down at me like I’m a bug he’s considering crushing.
I open my mouth and his eyes narrow in warning. I quickly close my mouth.
“Your purpose here is to pass the basic requirements to be cleared for frontline duty. That is it. You are not special. We will not be friends. You are a means to an end.”
My eyebrow twitches.
He speaks about me like I’m a possession of the army, a thing, not a person.
The attraction simmering under my skin twists into something akin to distaste.
This Alpha is a piece of work. It’s not fair that someone who looks so good can be so rotten inside.
I decide then and there that no matter how violently my Omega wants to submit to him, I will never give him the satisfaction.
I open my mouth to tell him as much, but he holds his hand up to silence me.
“This team is unique. We are a small four-man cell with the highest clearance level, experience, and skills. We’re the best of the best and do not tolerate mediocrity.
You will either rise to meet our standard, or fail, which would be a blemish on our otherwise spotless record.
Failure is not an option. Do you understand, Omega Sparks? ”
I don’t speak. I don’t nod. Because I don’t understand.
Why the hell would the General send me to train with some commando macho Alpha machines?
I was expecting to be slotted into a recruit class and do my best to scrape by on the minimal requirements.
I am so rut-damn fracked.
“Further, there are three unmated Alphas in our team. The presence of an unmated Omega is not ideal.”
He thinks this situation is not ideal? That’s an understatement.
I didn’t ask for any of this to happen. I’m certainly not okay with being exiled to a remote ‘black site’ with no contact with the outside world while at the mercy of three rampantly horny Alphas!
Panic wells up within me, vicious and hungry. My inner Omega thrashes in my chest. She’s skittish and desperate to escape.
I need to nest.
To burrow until I feel sane.
I stare at the bare mattress, tauntingly devoid of nesting materials.
“While you are a guest with our team, you are to be considerate of your…” his nostrils flare as he swallows, “urges.”
Urges?
“All measures will be taken to keep your stay with us professional,” he grunts in a rehearsed tone, then hands me a package. Looking inside, I fight the need to roll my eyes.
“The suppressant pills to be taken daily,” he says in his monotone, curt voice.
I want to reply with a sassy, “no shit, genius,” but I figure Prime Asshole wouldn’t take kindly to that kind of backchat. The pills are the same kind that I’ve been taking my entire adult life. Every morning, like clockwork, I take two suppressant pills that dampen my scent and sex drive.
“Scent-canceling body wash is to be used daily,” he recites, his nostrils flaring again. It feels like an accusation, like I’m so smelly he thinks I need to be told to wash myself every day. Besides, I was stuffed in an airless metal box to sweat overnight. Of course I smell ripe!
I pluck a plain bottle of liquid out of the package. There is no label detailing the ingredients, only a bright orange label that says, ‘Maximum Strength Scent Deodorizer.’
I gingerly place the package on the bed, already missing my gentle lavender soap.
He turns to me, spreads his legs, and stands rigidly with his hands behind his back. The classic military stance I’ve seen used by the Beta soldiers on base a hundred times each.
Yet, when he does it, it looks different. Like fracking sin.
I bet he wouldn’t do it if he knew how tempting the fabric pulling across his chest looks.
“As of this moment, you are temporarily part of this team. You will eat with us, train with us, sleep with us—”
I choke on my spit. Did he just say…?
“Sleep in the same bunkhouse as us,” he snarls, apparently disgusted by the mere suggestion of sexual contact with me.
Fine by me. I have years of experience looking with no touching.
“Do you understand?” he says again, his voice louder.
“I-I understand.”
“No.” I flinch. His voice is like a crack of a whip, striking with stinging force. “You will address me as Prime Alpha Knox, or sir. This is your only warning. Try again.”
“I understand, sir.” My back molars ache as I clench my teeth together and grit through the words.
He looks down at me for a long moment with an unreadable expression on his face.
I still don’t make eye contact, not wanting to disrespect or challenge him.
In my peripheral vision, I notice a thin, white scar that runs over the bridge of his nose and onto each cheek.
It’s old, healed, and perfectly symmetrical. It’s odd. I thought Alphas didn’t scar.
My fingers twitch with the need to touch it… soothe it… make it better.
Knox eventually moves and produces something from behind his back. There’s a hesitance in his movements, and I’m desperately curious about what is making this purposeful man reluctant.
In his large, callused hands rests a thick leather strap with a metal clasp. Hanging in the middle is a small tag attached that reads ‘Sparkles.’
A collar. It’s a freaking collar, like a dog wears. With a dog’s name on the tag.
I blink.
“From this moment on, you will wear this bite collar at all times. For your safety and ours.”
I look up at his handsome face, searching for the humor. There is nothing but his consistent steely, steadfast scowl.
My heart races, a wild stallion galloping against my ribs. Each breath is a shallow gasp, as if the air has thinned and turned elusive. My hands tremble. Edges of my vision become hazy. This can’t be real. It has to be some sick, twisted joke.
White hot outrage and anger bursts from within me.
“I won’t wear a collar like an animal!” I shriek, backpedaling and pointing at the leather strap laying on his outstretched palm like it’s a venomous snake.
His eyes narrow and his fingers curl the collar into a vise.
“Calm yourself, Omega Sparks. You will do as I say while you are part of my team.”
“Like frack I will! You’re not putting that thing on me.” I jab my finger at the offending object.
“You’re a soldier under my command and you will obey me.”
His words send chills running along every inch of skin exposed. He’s an asshole. His words are crude and purposely inflammatory, but he’s right.
Alpha Prime Knox is the authority figure here. He’s in control of my fate. He owns me.
“And if I refuse?” My voice is hoarse and weak.
Long strides eat up the short distance between us in a flash. He looms over me, his large body towering, making me feel insignificant. His scent is heavy in the air, like a freshly penned letter and a spice bazaar. The simmering attraction is still there, and it makes me angrier.
“Make no mistake, Omega Sparks. Your designation changes nothing.” His voice dips lower, the deep vibrations felt between my thighs. “You’re just another soldier to me, and I’ll punish you like one.”
His huge hand clamps down at the back of my neck, squeezing tightly in a distinct submissive hold, and I immediately go limp.
My stomach flips and breath hitches as his touch sends a jolt of electricity through me. This is how an Alpha commands submission from his Omega.
His fingers are so close to my gland. So close.
With nimble fingers, he buckles the collar around my throat. One side dips lower and covers the delicate bend between my neck and shoulder. The cool leather presses into my mating gland.
A whimper slips from my lips.
It’s pitiful and uncontrolled. My gland is hyper sensitive, and having a foreign object touching it is sending me into overdrive.
My scent blooms… or at least it should.
I sniff the air, seeking out my perfume that should be swirling in the tent. Instead, I sneeze violently. An artificial scent clings to me. It’s unpleasant and strong.
“The collar has scent-canceling properties,” he says, holding his hands behind his back after wiping his hands on his trousers, and looking down at me with his signature frown etched into his features. “It’ll help with your… odor.”
I splutter. Odor?!
How dare he comment on my scent when I can smell the Alpha pheromones dripping off the canvas walls of this tent.
My nose twitches at the musky smells mingling in the space. What did they do in here? Spray the whole thing down with spunk?
I shake my head before my horny Omega brain runs off with the thought, and expel the lingering scents in my nostrils. I’ll have to get used to dealing with unmated male scents. If they have shitty personalities like Alpha Prime Knox, then I’ll be fine.
What a fracking cockwomble.
I chew the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from spitting curses at him while I squirm and adjust the collar around my neck.
It’s stiff and digs into my skin, but it’s not too uncomfortable.
It’s more the indignity of being forced to wear a damn collar that stings.
As an Omega, I’ve always known that I’m at the mercy of those with more authority than me, but this collar is a physical reminder of my submission. It’s humiliating and degrading.
With one last withering stare, he turns and marches away, leaving the flap of the tent hanging wide open.
Prime Alpha Knox is a grade-A douchebag, and no matter how good he looks or smells, I’ll never forgive him for treating me like an animal.
A clipped bark shouts from outside, “Omega. Come.”
So much for a warm welcome.
I take a step, and the silver tag at my throat jingles.
If this collar is for practical reasons, then why is ‘Sparkles’ engraved on it like a pet?