Page 43 of Knot Your Rebel

Desperation.

A feeling I find myself steeped in all too often these days. It’s on replay constantly, the fervor of my need hammering like a drum roll every minute of every day that I’m away from her.

Her footsteps grow louder the closer she gets, and my heart rate kicks up into overdrive. Is it wrong being turned on, knowing that I’ll probably scare the shit out of her? Probably. Do I let it stop me? Nope.

When she’s just outside the door, I reach out and grab her, pulling her into my chest and throwing my other hand up automatically around her mouth to cover the scream trying to force its way out. She struggles against me, hitting my arms and trying to say something, but I can’t understand what she’s saying.

A few seconds later, the painful slice of teeth cuts into my skin. Blood trickles from the site as she immediately lets go. The bond snaps into place like a gun going off, and I can feel the absolute horror radiating down the bond. Her scent has turned bitter. She didn’t intend to bite me. That’s pretty obvious, right? I’m warring with myself. The alpha side is thrilled the omega has claimed him. The human side is trying not to feel hurt at how absolutely appalled she is by her actions.

Pushing the feelings aside, the instinct to soothe her kicks in. “Shhh… relax. It’s just me,” I whisper into her ear, a purr simmering in my chest. “If I move my hand, are you going to be my good little omega?” She nods, letting me know she hears what I’m saying. “We can talk about this, but you need to remain calm.”

Again, she nods. The whites of her eyes are like a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounds us. Suppose turning on the light may have been a helpful idea, but I like the anonymity the dark gives, initially. Pulling her with me, my fingers finally find the light switch, and I flip it on.

She struggles so beautifully, my little Rebel. Even though she’s agreed to be quiet when I move my hand, I haven’t done it yet. The need to keep her close wears on me, but I eventually give in.

I remove my hand from her mouth, and she abruptly gasps in complete horror at the blood dripping from the spot where she bit me. Her lips have a cherry hue where my blood has started to seep in.

“No…” she whispers.

“Oh, yes, looks like your omega wants me just as much as my alpha wants her.”

She scowls while the tips of her ears turn a soft red. So she does want me. “That may be true, but the human side does not want you.”

Her words are wobbly as if she doesn’t even believe them.

I give her my best shit-eating grin. “Well, looks like you’re officially stuck with me now.”

Granted, I realize that doing some crazy shit lately is probably not helping my cause. The way she reacts to certain things makes me think that maybe these are trigger warnings. Or maybe it’s just self-preservation.

I walk towards her, caging her against the wall behind where she's standing. Her gaze is unsteady, her breathing labored. If I put my hand to her chest right now, I bet her heart would feel like a bass drum at a rock concert.

My attempt at sending calming vibes down the bond starts to work after a few minutes.

“I bit you,” she says breathlessly, as if she can’t believe it.

I can’t help the smile of pride that forms on my lips. “Sure did.”

Her gaze is glossy and fucked as those gorgeous golden eyes stare up at me. There’s a hint of awe as if she feels seen for the first time in her life.

The truth is I do see her. I have since the first night where she got stupidly drunk in the bar to drown out the feelings. There’s a sadness in her that calls to me like a wounded soldier on the battlefield, seeking any type of help or reinforcement I can provide.

I don’t know how to help. I’ve never had strong feelings like these towards a female, let alone an omega, before, and I truly believed I would walk through this life alone. Then I saw her. Before her, females were there to quench thirst and desires. A means to an end. They knew the score when they walked into my room. I’ve never promised them anything more. But I will give her everything.

seventeen - tate

. . .

She’s caged in my arms, a wild look on her face as if she’s planning on running. I can see her brain spinning a million miles an hour. That’s not going to happen. Maybe things are moving fast, too fast, but I’m caught in her spell. It’s witchcraft. I’m hers.

I have no defense against it. The heat between us burns like an inferno. Common sense urges me to take things slow, but my body demands more. This wickedly sexy little omega has me fucking hooked, she’s like an aphrodisiac or a love potion.

My lips connect with hers, boldly parting them with my tongue. She brings out this visceral need in me, a reaction I’ve never experienced before. Her fingertips gently dig into my skin, and my hand slides up her body and wraps around her throat. I massage it lightly with my thumb, feeling the pounding pulse of her heartbeat in her vein.

Her body goes lax in my arms. The combination of spice and cooked apple notes mixes with her feminine scent, and I’m hard.

I want to make her knees weak.

I want her heart racing like a freight train headed down the tracks with broken brakes.

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