Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Halley
I stir awake to a symphony of birds chirping their morning song.
“Ughhhh.” I fold my under-stuffed pillow over my ears. “Why are you so cheerful? Let me sleep, you twittering dickbags!”
Trees are a rare sight at Barkrood Base, and I’d forgotten just how noisy wildlife could be.
Don’t they know I’m operating on fumes here? I need my sleep. Even the birds want me to suffer in this forsaken training camp.
I try to drift back to sleep, but bright dawn light seeps through the weathered canvas walls of the tent, casting a warm glow inside.
“Fine, Mother Nature, you hateful bitch. You win.” I’ve never been accused of being a morning person.
My mouth opens in a jaw splitting yawn, and I uncurl into a long stretch. I wince as my stiff muscles scream in protest, sucking in an inhale of air.
It’s been three long, painful weeks of running that damn obstacle course, with Viper and Blaze pushing me harder each time.
Their touches lingering longer and their gazes getting hotter. I would’ve given up long ago without the promise of Blaze’s encouraging touches, or Viper catching me when I fall.
At this point, it’s the only thing getting me out of bed.
That and the constant anxiety about protecting my Omega family.
It hovers in my mind like a storm on the horizon, thunder rolling threateningly the moment I remove my attention.
I can’t let myself fail. If I don’t try my absolute hardest and The Omega Division is shut down, I don’t know how I’ll be able to live with myself.
I love those three Omegas more than anything else in this messed up world, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.
It’s also been weeks since that cursed experiment that resulted in Viper’s cock rutting against my ass. I’m plagued with dreams of Knox growling against my throat, his voice burrowing deep into my core. My inner Omega’s submissive side yearns to please the stern Prime Alpha.
Then there’s Shade and his reassuring presence.
The soft, “Well done, Omega Sparks,” spoken after I’m done with a rep of push-ups, is intoxicating. I’m addicted and I’ll keep pushing myself to the edge just to hear him praise me. I’m sick in the head, that’s for sure.
Licking my dry, cracked lips, I grimace as my mouth feels like cotton. I feel worse today. I’m actually worried I might not be able to stand, let alone perform the training drills.
The last time I felt this worse for wear was after Ember procured a bottle of moonshine from a soldier who wanted to get into her nest, and we indulged a little too much. I swear, after that monster hangover, I still can’t smell alcohol without gagging.
I groan, slowly kicking the scratchy blankets off my overheated body to the bottom of the bed.
The cool morning air feels nice on my sweaty, exposed skin.
I surreptitiously sniff the blankets, and tingles flicker in my core as I detect Viper’s scent of gunpowder and roses. He’s been the one to tuck me into bed every time I collapse from exhaustion, and the little bright spark in my chest where my affection for him resides burns a little brighter.
I rub my hands up and down my exposed arms as a dangerous feeling coils inside me. The giant Alpha and I have barely spoken a few words to each other, but I feel such a strong bond with him. I know it’s him I reach for when the O-space arrives.
I glance around the tent and see that everyone else is gone. The beds have each of their distinct scents lingering on them, so I know that they slept here during the night.
An odd contented feeling settles behind my breastbone. My inner Omega likes that our Pack all slept in the same place last night.
Wait. Our Pack?
No.
Nuh-uh.
Don’t even go there. Omegas like me don’t get mates. We’re defective and sent to The Omega Division for a reason.
Besides, mating Packs don’t exist anymore. These guys are a squad of super soldiers. Just teammates.
Right?
Sure, they seem bonded beyond what is typical for work colleagues, but what do I know? This might be normal for military units.
I shake my head and wince as my body protests the movement. Tension radiates through every muscle and joint in my body. I feel wrung out, like all the moisture has been wicked from my pores.
I reach for the cup of water that’s placed at the side of my bed and drink. The cup smells like Blaze. He’s been the one to make sure I eat and drink enough.
Our Pack cares for us.
Frickity frack, frack.
This is bad.
I’m getting attached to this Pack rapidly, even though the time I’ve spent with them hasn’t been the easiest.
Okay, it’s been fracking awful. It’s ridiculous that I’m so affection starved even basic human kindness has me swooning.
My Omega doesn’t give a shit. She’s never had the chance to be around potential mates before, and she’s restless. I’ve always felt a deep yearning for a mate, but I’ve never experienced an urge this strong.
I know why I won’t, why I can’t, indulge these feelings.
They wouldn’t want me once they know what’s wrong with me.
I run a hand through my messy hair, wincing as my biceps burn in protest.
I know I have to get up. Prime Alpha Knox will not be pleased if I lie about in bed.
A mental image of the harsh Prime Alpha dragging me out of the tent by the hair flashes through my mind.
And then another image of him pulling my hair for an entirely different and pleasant reason springs forth.
He’d be a controlling, dominant lover. Another kink I’m not interested in.
Another lie.
The errant thought makes me launch up and out of bed.
I try to comb out my hair, but as usual, it’s not cooperating. I hastily throw it into a messy top knot and huff when the rebellious strand immediately breaks free.
I look and feel like a rut-damned mess and I try hard not to care. My Omega instincts are screaming at me to look my best for our mates.
Frack.
I mentally sit my naughty Omega on a step stool, hold her shoulders, stare in her face and say the words slowly but firmly.
They are not our mates.
Especially that rutting dickbag, Knox.
Footsteps crunching on the gravel outside the tent is the only warning I get before a large Alpha frame enters the bunkhouse.
“Ah-ha, sleeping drop-dead-gorgeous beauty has risen from the dead,” Blaze announces with a wink, and my core clenches in response.
He’s holding a bowl and a steaming mug. I raise an eyebrow inquisitively.
“Thought I’d bring you breakfast in bed today,” he shrugs, handing me the bowl and placing the mug on the small bedside table beside the empty water cup.
My stomach rumbles, and he snickers.
Blaze has been bringing me food and drinks. He escorts me to the food tent, and insists on plating up massive servings that I can never finish. Of course, I think it’s all a ruse to watch me eat.
He’s a such a weird dude, and I’m starting to like it.
I sit on the edge and shovel a mouthful of cereal in my mouth. It’s bland, flavorless, and I eat like a woman starved. I’m drained. I think all my energy evaporated into sweat and carbon dioxide from my heaving breaths.
I hope they’re going to take it easier on me today. Knowing Prime Asshole, probably not.
I glance back up at Blaze who is standing in the same military stance as Knox, feet wide, hands behind his back. Yet, he makes it look so different. So very, very different. He’s stock still, not a single muscle moving, and he’s staring.
It’s intense and heated and a little deranged.
I almost choke on my cereal, and force myself to swallow.
He’s watching my lips as I chew like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. He has no shame about staring.
Yesterday, I decided to forgo shame as well and stare right back. If he’s going to disregard standard social rules, then so can I.
His eyes are so pale they give him an otherworldly appearance. Add in the scars and the wild hair cut, I can safely say I’ve never met anyone like Blaze.
He’s actually quite boyish looking in the face. It’s not because he has an innocent appearance by any means, but because of the underlying feline mischief that seems permanently etched on his face.
It isn’t just his movements that remind me of a lithe cat, it’s his behavior too.
There was a stray cat who lived in my familial pack’s wood storage shed during winter and the nearby forest in the summer.
It craved affection and would often come up for a pet, only to change its mind halfway through and viciously claw the offered hand.
When I look at Blaze, I can imagine the exact same scenario happening. He’d draw you in, begging for attention, only to change his mind abruptly and happily watch you bleed.
I hold on to that image as he watches me eat with predatory, hungry eyes. A thrill zips through me and settles between my legs.
Just a gentle reminder. Don’t pet the deranged Alpha, Halley.
“You purr for Viper,” Blaze pouts. He says it like I’ve mortally offended him, and the jealousy is clear.
I don’t respond. I’m not sure why my purring upsets him. If anyone should be upset, it’s me. Does he not realize how unnerving it is to perform such an intensely intimate act almost involuntarily?
I sip on the coffee and moan at the strong flavor.
Oh yes, I don’t think there has ever been a time I’ve needed coffee more in my life.
Blaze’s eye socket twitches and he releases a deep breath. “Fuck, Sparkles. Do that again.”
I halt with the steaming mug pressed to my lower lip and lock eyes with him. He gives me a wide, salacious grin, and winks.
My pussy clenches.
What the rut-damned frack. I’m screwed. Even the insane one is turning me on.