Page 22 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
I pick at the dried splatter of mashed potato on my sleeve cuff and sigh. As horrible as the last three days in solitary confinement have been, I wish I were back in my cell, making little mountains out of my leftover mashed potatoes.
Getting locked up for trespassing in a restricted zone is far less stressful than being dragged to the office of the General of Barkrood Base.
The waiting room is suffocatingly quiet, occasionally broken by a burst of tapping from the secretary’s keyboard. I’m convinced the General has me waiting as some kind ofpsychological warfare. He shouldn’t have bothered. My head is already spinning.
Since the moment I regained consciousness alone in that small hospital room, the haunting scent of the disturbed Alpha clinging to my garments, the harshness of reality descended upon me when the base authorities forcefully slammed me against a wall and restrained me with handcuffs.
My stomach flip-flops and my anxious scent radiates throughout the room. The Beta secretary shoots me a filthy look, squinting down her hooked nose in distaste.
In the old days, the scent of an Omega in distress would motivate pack members to provide protection. In our modern world, it’s simply irritating.
I’m off balance, floundering in the consequences of my actions.
I hold tight to the memory of Jason’s even, pain-free breathing and the relief on Everlyn’s face.
I need to keep reminding myself it was worth it.
I’m in a part of the base I’ve never been before. It’s restricted, and I know unmated Alphas are close by.
I can smell them. Hear their heavy footfalls in the hallway just outside the door. They know I’m in here too, and I feel like a sitting duck, waiting to be devoured by a hungry predator.
I’ve never been so close to unmated Alphas before, and the swirling mix of distinctly masculine Alpha scents has my instincts on high-alert.
It makes me think about the Alpha called Viper, and I shake my head vigorously to expel the thought. I’m not ready to analyze our explosive meeting. Not yet.
“General Stone will see you now.” The secretary sneers in my direction.
I swallow.
The last thing I want to do is walk through that imposing door. I want to be curled up in my nest.
Rolling my shoulders, I swallow my fear, stand on shaking legs, and turn the brass doorknob.
Luxurious carpet muffles the sound of my steps, and the drapes are pulled tight. I squint to allow my eyes to adjust.
Sitting at an enormous, stately desk is an equally enormous man. A Prime Alpha. A leader among leaders.
My pulse quickens.
General Stone’s arms rest on the top of the desk, and despite his white hair and deep wrinkles, his muscles strain against his formal uniform. A string of medals glint on his breast pocket and gold filigree decorates the jacket.
Wiry eyebrows line his heavy forehead, and a mean frown pulls his square face downward.
I ball my hands into fists, but they won’t stop shaking.
My scent becomes stronger, transitioning from calming lavender to something more intense. Dazz says it smells like right before a thunderstorm when the ozone levels spike and the atmosphere is charged with electricity.
General Stone sits forward, his eyes sharp. “So, you’re the Omega who trespassed into a restricted zone.”
I swallow, forcing myself to keep my eyes focused on his lower face.
I figure it’s best to treat him like a wild animal. Don’t make direct eye contact. Don’t antagonize him. Don’t challenge his authority.
“Yes, sir,” I squeak.
His voice is deep, sending a shiver up my spine. “Omega Sparks, do you know what happens to soldiers who break rules?”
I shake my head, the rebellious strand of hair swaying in front of my face mockingly.
