Page 36 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
I could taste her quivering fear, shivering through the still mountain air like a live wire. It traveled through me like a bolt of lightning. When Shade radioed in from the vehicle hours ago to report he’d collected ‘The Package,’ he’d been cagey with information, but when pushed he described her scent as the moment after a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky in a brutal storm. The guy is far more eloquent than I’ll ever be. Fuck, I would have never described her scent like that. To me, she smells like some kind of flower and power, and makes my nose tingle.
My teammates are pretending to be cool, calm and collected. I know them better. Knox especially is freaking the fuck out. The dude can handle training soldiers, leading troops into battle, but one little Omega has him petrified.
When we made our plans for this unusual mission, Shade impressed on us the need to ease her into military life and keep a strict professional distance. I think they’re nervous about me scaring her. They should’ve been more concerned about our Prime Alpha with an asshole streak a mile wide.
Shade was the best bet to collect her from Barkrood Base. Being a Beta, he’s less of a threat to her. In any other situation, Shade is more of a threat than all of us combined. His wicked intelligence and disarming nature has brought countless enemies to their knees. I’ve seen him use a drone to kill hundreds of charging humans in a single strike. Fucking brutal. The spray of blood was spectacular.
She’d meet Knox next, and he’d give her the rules we agreed upon. Rules to keep her safe from us. The bite collar is probably because of my more unpredictable tendencies, and at first I hated the idea of covering her mating gland, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of collaring her. It calls to something primal inside me, the need to control and own my Omega. A physical reminder that she’s ours. The others are gonna flay me alive when they realize I stealthily attached a little tag on it.
I scratched her name into the metal with my combat knife, lovingly naming her ‘Sparkles’. A pretty nickname for our pretty Omega.
I’m watching her now, in the hole Knox ordered her to dig.
The swell of her body and her scent calls to me like nothing else. Not even the thrill of a hunt or the scent of fear on our enemies compares.
She’s round and soft, everything we’re not. She’s so short and sweet, so innocent, yet with a burning determination in her pretty purple eyes. The way she stood up to Knox had my dick hard.
At first glance, she looks overweight. The uniform she’s wearing with the large Ω emblazoned on the breast makes her look like a shapeless blob. Yet, I get glimpses of her small waist. Her breasts sit high on her small chest, bouncing lightly with each scoop of the shovel into the dirt.
And her ass.
Rut-damn. That ass is dangerous. Each time she bends over, my dick twitches. The juicy globes strain against her pants and outline thick thighs and the perfect ass for pounding.
She’s exactly what I imagined an Omega to be.
I’ve only ever seen mated Omegas from a distance, protectively escorted by their Alphas. Not her. She’s alone and afraid.
Not for long. She might not know I’m watching her, but I’ll never leave her alone again.
Chapter Fifteen
Halley
The sun beats directly down into the clearing without the shade from the surrounding towering trees. The temperature has risen well beyond what is comfortable, and the humidity has my hair sticking to my forehead. My neck is pouring sweat underneath the thick leather collar, and my distaste for it only grows fiercer.
I wipe the back of my hand across my forehead and lean heavily against the shovel. My arms feel like noodles and I’m covered in a film of dirt. Exhaustion from lack of sleep is creeping into my bones and my eyes feel as if they’re sinking into the back of my skull.
My movements are getting sloppy, and I accidentally lose my grip as I toss a shovelful over the edge. A shower of dirt rains down on me and slips beneath the bite collar. The granules irritate my sensitive skin and, in a fit of frustrated rage, I unbuckle the collar and fling it to the side.
Fresh air soothes my inflamed, sweat-soaked skin, and I moan in relief. I’ll put the collar back on before my jailer comes back. I just need a break from its oppressive presence.
It’s been hours since he ordered me to dig the pointless hole, and it seems he has no intention of returning to dismiss me. I’m at the mercy of his whim.
My muscles burn with exertion, and sweat pools in uncomfortable places and slides down my body. I can’t remember a time that I was this exhausted. The first couple of hours were easier. The ground was soft to dig into. With each shovelful of soil, the ground became harder, requiring more effort to get deeper. The hole I’ve dug doesn’t represent the amount of effort I’ve put into digging it.
I think I understand the point the Prime Alpha is trying to make. I know from watching the impressive display of the Alphas training from my deckchair with binoculars that an Alpha would have no issue digging this hole. As an Omega, I’m simply not on the same level physically. He wants to make it clear from the first day that I’m not cut out for this.
Well, the joke’s on him. I might be slower, and it might hurt like a motherfracker, but I won’t quit.
Nope.
Not if I want to save my friends.
I grit my teeth and take a deep breath, reach for the shovel, and resume digging.
I’d bleed for my friends. I’ll dig a thousand holes to keep them safe.
With each heft of heavy soil, I grunt. They’re not pretty noises either. Not the sultry sounds that echo from nests when my fellow Omegas go into heat. These grunts are guttural and torn from me without consent. I don’t care if I’m making a fool of myself. Let him hear me rising to meet his challenge.
