Page 20 of Hard Knot

He’s not like all the Alphas who end up in a place like Hard Knot Academy.

The thick, charged air between us is nearly suffocating. His presence fills the room, commanding attention in a way that makes my instincts both wary and maddeningly aware of him.

C’mon, Abbie. Don’t act like a typical Omega. Stand your ground!

I prepared myself to try to keep my tone even, even as my body betrays me with a heat pooling low in my stomach.

“Let me guess,” I say, forcing my voice into something cool and sharp. “You’re a crazed fan who got lost?” I can only assume he’s insane to be so confident about being here of all places. “If you think sneaking into the girl’s changing room is going to get you anything, think again.”

He smirks at that, the kind of infuriating, self-assured grin that makes me want to smack him.

Or kiss him.

“Crazed fan?” he repeats, his voice low and dripping with mockery. “Not quite. But I’ll admit I was watching. Hard not to when someone’s lighting up the stage like that.”

I snort, folding my arms across my chest. The movement draws his attention for a flicker of a second before his gaze snaps back up to mine.

He’s toying with me…

I realize, and I’m not hesitant in testing to see how far I’ll let him push.

He’s about to learn that I don’t bend easily.

“Who are you, anyway?” I demand, narrowing my eyes. “You don’t exactly look like a Knot Academy student. You do know about the mockery “Hard Knot Academy” name it seems, but I guess social media could help with that.” I shake my head before tilting it to one side to observe his reaction carefully. “Not that they give me a fucking welcome packet when new people show up.”

He chuckles, and the rich sound rolls over me like thunder.

Damn him.

“Carter,” he says simply, his hazel eyes gleaming with a predatory edge. “Carter Giovanni.”

Giovanni…Italian…god. Even his surname is powerful. Fuck me.

The name carries weight, though I can’t place it immediately. I can only wonder if he’s involved in the black market in some way. Hell, maybe even the mafia.

Would I even care? No…I can handle danger.

Still, the way he says it, is like he expects it to mean something to me.

It rubs me the wrong way.

“Elizabeth Abercrombie,” I mutter in response, my tone clipped. It feels strange to say my full name aloud, like a reminder of someone I’m not anymore. No one ever asks for my name these days. I’m just named by all the various nicknames they’ve bestowed upon me for my five-year track at this damn academy.

Something shifts in his expression, a flicker of amusement as he tilts his head slightly.

“Elizabeth,” he murmurs, testing it on his tongue. “Hmm. I think I like ‘Abbie’ better.”

I roll my eyes so hard I think they might fall out of my skull.

“You haven’t earned the right to call me that.”

His smirk widens, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

“And what would I have to do to earn it?”

A wicked grin tugs at the corner of my lips before I can stop it.

Two can play at this game.

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