Page 74 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
The rope slings around my ankle and yanks me into the air.
Fucking Blaze and his fucking traps.
My body slams against the ground as the rope jerks me up, higher and higher.
I dangle upside down, the forest floor far below me.
Blaze is nowhere in sight, and I’m not sure what’s worse. Him being here to gloat or him not being here at all.
I’m never this careless. I’m thinking with my dick and acting like a rookie.
“Shit,” I curse, and strain to reach my knife strapped to my utility belt.
A branch snaps from behind me and I tense. The last thing I need is for someone to witness this pathetic display.
Viper steps out of the trees and into my eye line.
He looks up at me and smirks. “Need a hand?”
I glare at him. “Fuck off.”
Viper snorts and steps forward. He stretches up and saws at the rope with his hunting knife.
“We underestimated her.”
“Yeah, and we underestimated her effect on us.”
“I can barely run with my dick so fucking hard,” Viper mumbles as he cuts at the rope.
Nothing is happening.
“Fucker used Kevlar fiber rope, didn’t he?” I sigh. The special rope is resistant to cutting.
Traps are one of Blaze’s favorite ways to play with his prey, and I’m not enjoying being on the receiving end.
There’s a low chuckle and I glance up to see Blaze leaning against a tree, watching us with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. Great, it’s a fucking party. “Get me down from here, dickhead.”
“You’re supposed to say ‘pretty please’.”
I narrow my eyes, letting my promise of retribution glow in my glare.
He sighs, knowing better than to push my buttons when I’m this angry. “Fine. But you owe me a blow job.”
“Fuck you,” I growl. I gave him one blow job a few years ago when we were both in rut and he will never let me forget it.
“Viper, why are you helpin’ your competition?” Blaze asks, cocking his head to the side.
Viper stops his actions and steps away from me. “This isn’t a competition.”
“Isn’t it?” Blaze goads, leaving the implication unspoken.
Only one Alpha will have the pleasure of chasing and capturing an Omega. The act is primal, connected to our most basic desires to claim a mate, and it’s an experience we’ll never have available to us again.
Blaze steps forward, his icy blue eyes intense. “She’s an unmated Omega, and she’s alone out there dripping with slick, waiting for you.”
Viper’s nostrils flare.
