Page 28 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
“Of course there are no windows. We’re traveling to a black site.”
He says it like I should know what a black site is and why that means I can’t have a window. All I know is it doesn’t sound like a cozy vacation spot.
The car manufacturers definitely did not take an Omega’s short stature into account when they designed the vehicle height. After heaving my pack inside, I take three attempts to climb up into the vehicle. As the doors slam shut behind me, I swear I see a small amused smile on the Beta’s handsome face.
I fumble around in the pitch black darkness until I find one of the bench seats, and settle down onto it. The metal is cold, and it quickly chills the backs of my thighs. With a jerking gear shift, the engine roars to life.
I never thought I was claustrophobic. Omegas love to burrow into small spaces for comfort, yet the oppressive darkness feels as if it’s closing in on me.
I latch onto the only other thing I can focus on – the Beta’s scent permeating the interior. It’s doing things to my brain. A dark chocolate scent and a hint of his sweat, but now that we’re in an enclosed space, I can smell another layer in his scent.
It’s heady and masculine, unlike any Beta scent I’ve ever encountered.
No, that’s not true. Something at the back of my mind is niggling at me. I’ve smelled him before. I strain to drag the memory to the forefront, picturing his handsome face.
Oh.
It hits me.
He was the Beta with the gun in the ICU that day. He was the soldier begging the Alpha not to make him shoot.
I flush all over. That means he knows what I did with the Alpha. Maybe not everything, but enough to know I’m a rebellious Omega with a suicidal streak.
So much for a fresh start and making a good first impression.
I close my eyes and try not to let myself spiral down a rabbit hole, but all I manage to do is focus on his alluring scent.
My pussy throbs.
Chapter Ten
Halley
Every jolt from this rut-damned troop carrier sends a shockwave of discomfort through my behind and lower back. Seriously, they could have at least thrown in a squishy cushion – this must be some sick initiation ritual.
Traveling in darkness with nothing but the monotonous drone of the engine to keep me company makes me feel like I’m stuck in a never-ending purgatory of impending doom. I don’t know how long we’ve been traveling, but it feels like hours. Maybe even a day. With no distractions, my mind wanders.
The same topic is on repeat.
The Alpha.
Lieutenant Viper.
The way his hands felt, so strong and sure, yet almost reverent in their touch. His vibrant green eyes fighting through the haze of Blood Lust like sunshine reaching the forest floor. The orgasm he ripped from my body with almost no effort. The feel of hisrigid erection pressed so firmly against my aching core. I almost fool myself into believing I felt the swell of his knot.
When I’m not thinking about Viper, I’m thinking about the Beta in the front seat of the car. And when I’m not thinking about either of them, I’m fretting about my situation.
My sweaty hands wring the hem of my shirt into a tangle of knots with fraying edges. My mouth is dry and I sip at my canteen, spilling water down my front with each sway and jolt of the truck.
I squirm, trying to find some relief by tucking my knees up and squeezing them against my chest. My inner Omega is begging to be released, and I’m desperate to do something, anything, to relieve my climbing anxiety. I try my best not to think about what awaits me at the end of this drive, but the suspense is killing me.
What if the team doesn’t like me? Or worse, what if they like me a little too much? What if there is an Alpha on this team? A rabbit hole of worst-case scenarios tumble through my mind and I smell my scent sour with distress. I’m going to be entirely at this team’s mercy, trusting them to keep me safe and protected… Who will protect me from them?
“You’ve got this,” I whisper to myself. I rest my cheek on my knees, squeezing my eyes shut in a futile attempt to summon some inner calm. The vehicle bounces over a pothole, and I’m launched forward, my teeth knocking against one another.
I groan.
Just when I consider banging on the wall to the driver’s cabin and begging for a bathroom break, the vehicle slows down. The gears shift, and we make one turn, then another, and another. It feels like we’re winding up a corkscrew, and my stomach does somersaults with every twist. And finally, mercifully, the constant turning stops. I hear the familiar sound of tires crunching over gravel, and the truck rolls to a shuddering stop.
