Page 78 of Knot My Sin

My boss is an asshole, but a really good alpha.

“Rise and shine, buttercups,” Ambrose crows as he picks up some large scissors. Everest chuckles as he grabs some shears as well and they begin to cut off the alphas’ clothing. “That’s just nasty, fuck. Is it molding? Gross.”

Moving over to them, I take in Craig’s paunch, Bruce’s yellow eyes, and Mark’s greasy hair. Their scents are noxious, and their bodies are fighting against their natures. Most alphas have great bodies, glowing skin, and look healthy.

These alphas appear sick.

“Preying on omegas is making you weak,” I growl, getting in Craig’s face. “We are made with instincts to protect them, and the way you hurt my omega is disturbing.”

“Trey gave her to us,” Bruce snivels, attempting to writhe away from Everest’s shears. Asshole is going to get cut that way, and I don’t want this to end too quickly.

Pulling a knife from my back pocket, I open the large blade, holding it to his throat.

“Hold still,” I grunt. “I don’t care if he forced you to fuck her, which I know didn’t happen, it was still wrong. She was sixteen years old!”

I gulp in a breath, attempting to relax, because I need to pace myself. I can’t lose control. I’m better than this.

“Any of you know where Trey lives?” Ambrose asks nonchalantly, tossing the rest of Craig and Mark’s clothes to the side. The man has no problems with being productive.

Everest leans back as he surveys his handiwork. The three of them are naked now, pathetic dicks hanging out in the wind.

“No, man,” Bruce blubbers. Pathetic. “We were blindfolded the entire time whenever we went to visit him. The man is a hermit, but he does occasionally have people over for big business meetings.”

“So it was dinner and a show?” Everest asks, lips pursed. The scent of fried onions is growing stronger, along with the stench of body odor. All I need is for one of them to shit themselves.

“I mean kind of?” Craig rumbles. Ambrose turns away, to both compose himself and find his next weapon of choice.

“Go on,” I grunt, almost sounding bored. Instead, my heart is beating hard. I can feel the rage inside of Amb just before he locks it down. He’s heard her cries and screams more than I have while she sleeps, and now some of the rapists who hurt her are right in front of us.

“No one is able to find an omega as young as he did,” Craig explains. “She was so well trained, fuck, it’s the best night of fucking I’ve ever had. She split so perfectly around my cock.”

“Speaking of splitting perfectly,” Amb mutters, picking up a very sharp, delicate blade. “Don’t move or I may just cut the entire miserable thing off.”

Amb starts with Craig, dragging a chair over to him. The screech of the metal legs on the ground never fails to make the men we’re punishing cower.

“What are you doing with that knife, man?” Mark screeches, kicking his feet out.

Grinning, I turn to the wall display, hitting a button that turns the hooks Mark and Bruce are hanging from away from Craig. Mark accidentally kicks Bruce in the knot, making me howl with laughter. Fucking idiots. Lifting a bat, I toss a high volt taser to Everest.

“Let’s loosen them up for Amb, babe,” I say, grinning maniacally. Here, I get to let my crazy out. At home, I’m protective and a little growly, but this allows me to keep such great control.

If all alphas were killers, maybe the world would be a better place?

Standing in front of Bruce, I give him a sick grin as I swing at his ribs with all of my strength. Everest howls as he sparks the taser in Mark’s face before shoving it in his side, while Amb starts to sing Shake It Off by Taylor Swift as he begins to cut up Craig’s cock. Hmmm… fitting.

“You’re fucking sick. Help! Oh God! I need that!” Craig screams as he cries.

God, he’s annoying. I start to sing Shake it Off with Amb as I continue to tenderize Bruce before I toss the metal bat away. Hmm… I think I want to try my skills at Penis Picasso too.

“How’s your masterpiece going?” I ask, walking around the bodies to glance down at Amb’s handiwork.

“I think it’s coming along,” he says with a smirk. The penis is sliced open in three parts like a banana as he works, and Craig is completely passed out. “I want to see how my knife handles his knot.”

“Best penis artwork buys dinner,” I grunt, moving to pick up a scalpel. Huh, I should be able to do decent work with that.

“Wait, fuck, don’t pass out, douchebag,” Everest complains. “What are we doing now? I don’t want to be left out!”

Snickering, I look over the blades on the table and pick up one of Everest’s favorites. It’ll work like a scalpel, but the handle will fit better in his palm. Bruce is hanging dazed in front of me, as I hand the scalpel to Everest.

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