Chapter Seventeen #2
My tongue darts out to moisten my lips, but I stop the motion as his predatory eyes lock onto the movement.
I may have made a mistake.
I knew these clothes would get a reaction, but this is more than I was expecting.
I’d been so caught up in maliciously complying and ‘sticking-it-to-the-Alpha,’ that I hadn’t truly thought of the consequences.
Why did I think flaunting my body to a sexually repressed Prime Alpha was a smart idea?
I mean, the dude is the walking definition of tightly wound. I seriously doubt he’s so much as wanked without a say-so from the chain of command.
I shift nervously on the hard seat, and his growling intensifies, causing my nipples to harden in response. When he notices, it only makes him growl louder.
Despite myself, I internally smirk. I have him rattled.
He’s going to be in charge of every aspect of my life for the foreseeable future, but in this glorious moment, I’ve won.
Prime Asshole stares at me with a steely, unblinking expression. The vein in his forehead pulses.
“What do you mean?” I ask innocently. “This is the uniform I was provided.”
His nostrils flare and his voice shifts to a lower octave, a rumble reverberating from his chest which vibrates my bones. “Omega Sparks, return to your quarters immediately and change into something that fits.”
It’s an Alpha Command.
The tug is immediate, hooking at my belly button and dragging me to my feet, knocking the chair over in my haste. Shock lances through me as fear and outrage claw its way up my throat as my free-will is stripped.
If I thought Prime Alpha Knox might be reasonable underneath his handsome, spiky exterior, I know better now.
He’s a bastard.
Preying on those weaker than him and forcing them to bend to his will.
A complete asshole.
It’s clear he knows nothing about my designation. Omegas are naturally submissive and, if spoken to with kindness and respect, an Alpha Command is rarely necessary. We respond to love and care, not aggression.
I’ve always thought my submissive side was a weakness, something to overcome. Yet, since my encounter with the crazed Alpha in the hospital, a tiny voice in the back of my mind has hissed a truth.
It was my kindness and submission which brought him back from the brink.
I don’t need pure physical strength to bring an Alpha to his knees. My power comes from somewhere softer.
So, instead of fighting the Command, I lean into it. I let his authority wash over me.
If it’s obedience he wants, I’ll give it to him.
His eyes are glowing red, the color of rage and blood, and once I have his complete attention, I make a performance of lowering my eyes to his feet respectfully.
Following my instincts, I bend my knees to appear smaller and tilt my head, showing submission in the most primal sense.
He sucks in a deep intake of air.
I realize an Alpha Command isn’t about the words, but the intention behind them. By submitting to him, the force of his Command wavers, the compulsion satisfied by my submission, not caring the initial command wasn’t fulfilled.
Slowly, the tugging at my navel subsides, and I take a deep breath. My hands are shaking from the exertion.
I raise my eyes and straighten my spine. I arrange my features into a blank slate and reply coolly, deciding to ignore his failed attempt at controlling me, knowing it’ll be a final ‘screw you’ to his fragile ego.
“Sir, this is my issued uniform. I have nothing else to wear.”
I’m unnerved by his burning stare but summon the last of my waning bravado. I spread my legs and tuck my hands behind my back in a mirror of his stance. It makes my breasts threaten to burst from the shirt, and when his eyes dart down to my chest, my nipples respond to the attention.
His nostrils flare, and I internally smirk.
I’ve won this mini-standoff.
He might be a powerful Prime Alpha, but he’s controlled by his biology just like the rest of us.
“I wouldn’t presume to give you an order, sir,” I purr the title, “but perhaps ordering a soldier’s uniform that fits an Omega might be a solution.”
His eyes dart back up to mine and I can see the moment he realizes he lost the game we were playing. It’s disbelief followed by flaming anger. He sucks in a deep breath through his nose and expels it with force, huffing like a bull preparing to charge.
He takes a large step closer, staring down at me with a predatory rage.
Regret slams into me.
I can practically hear Dazz groaning in frustration, ‘I told you not to enrage the hot unhinged Alpha!’
He’s definitely going to kill me.
I try not to flinch as I wait for his retaliation.
“Knox!” A sharp bark from the entrance snaps him out of his trance, and I take the opportunity to scramble backwards, my ass bumping into the table, spilling the stew from the bowl.
The Beta storms forward and stands between us.
“That’s enough, Omega Sparks,” the Beta snips, disappointment dancing in his beautiful, heavily lashed eyes. “I’ll place an order for a new uniform with your measurements.”
What is happening? He’s behaving like he’s protecting Knox from me. As if I were the one flinging around Alpha Commands and preparing to murder innocent Omegas.
“In the meantime, you are to wear the clothes you arrived in today,” he says, his eyes roving over my body like it’s a loaded weapon. His eyes linger on my still puckered nipples before looking away quickly.
“Yes, sir,” I murmur. The wind is out of my sails and I don’t like the look of betrayal the Beta is giving me, as if I’ve done something heinous. I want to pout, point at Knox, and shout, ‘he started it!’
Movement in my periphery drags my awareness to the rest of the space. My focus had slimmed down to nothing but Prime Alpha Knox, but as we’d fought for dominance, we’d attracted an audience.
It’s time to meet the team.