Page 49 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
Another sob shakes my chest, the sound visceral and raw.
He exhales, clenches his jaw, and clears his throat.
“Yes, well. Such a… sleeping arrangement isn’t how we do things in this squad. This,” he gestures to my shivering form, “is a break from protocol.”
I squeeze my knees to my chest tighter. I can feel tears prickling in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall when he can see me.
“Every Omega has a right to a nest,” I say with a strength I don’t feel.
He stares at me like I’m an alien creature that he’s desperately trying to categorize and is coming up short. Finally, he nods once, his expression serious and unreadable. “This is a temporary solution, nothing more. You’ll need to find a way to make do with fewer supplies.”
Frustration wells within me, bubbling in my throat as I fight not to throw an epic Omega tantrum. Our designation is infamous for explosive outbursts of the emotional variety and I refuse to indulge in that stereotype. No, I’m going to prove to this ignorant Alphahole that I’m more than what he expects of me.
So, I nod like a bobblehead, desperate for this conversation to be over so I can breathe again.
“0600, Omega. Don’t be late,” he says and strides out of the room.
I collect the strewn blankets and pillows from the floor, painstakingly arranging them in a semblance of my sad nest.
It’s a desperate, frantic instinct that is only amplified by my shaken nerves. I flinch at every hoot of an owl and the creak of the ancient trees swaying in the gentle wind.
I wait until I’m certain I’m alone for the tears to come, and once they start, they don’t stop.
I shove my fist in my mouth to stop sobs from escaping, and release my emotions. It’s exhausting, but by the time my eyes run dry, I still don’t fall asleep. My body remains in a constant state of awareness. It won’t be calm. Not now that I know it’s not safe to sleep.
Chapter Twenty
Halley
I don’t get a wink of sleep.
When the soft sounds of night change to the bright chirps of early morning, I stiffly untangle from my nest. It feels tainted. Like it’s somehow shameful.
A renewed dislike of Prime Asshole has settled inside me, deep in my very sense of self. It’s been a long time since I felt ashamed of my designation.
I’ve spent years working through my self-loathing created by growing up as my family’s dirty Omega secret, only to have it dredged out by Prime Asshole Knox in one day.
I’m more determined than ever to prove him wrong. I may be an Omega, and I may need a nest, but I’m not weak.
There is a bowl of unpalatable oatmeal resting on a side table, and I hesitate before deciding to eat it. I didn’t like being called a thief last night, and I don’t want to be accused of taking what isn’t mine again. But why else would it be here if not for me?
My growling stomach decides for me, and I hastily consume the tasteless food.
I dress in my filthy Omega Division uniform, my nose wrinkling at the still damp sweat stains under my pits and the gritty feeling of dirt in the seams. I take a brief moment to wonder where the other squad members slept last night, because they certainly didn’t sleep in the bunkhouse with me. Why didn’t they put me in a separate tent if they didn’t want an Omega in their space? I don’t understand how these males are acting around me, and the only consolation I can find is that I don’t think they understand their own actions either.
At the threshold of the tent, I steel myself for the coming day with a deep inhale. I exhale with a whoosh and step through the tent flap.
At the heart of the compact base lies a spacious open area, adorned with tufts of sturdy grass emerging from the gravel and rocks, and that’s where they are. All four squad members, chatting casually, like it’s just another morning.
It’s the first time I’ve seen them all together, and in the early morning mist, they look utterly formidable. A wall of muscle and confidence. The perfect soldiers.
I stop to stare for a moment, my eyes raking over their bodies, taking in every inch of them. From their many scars to the heavy boots on their feet. Broad shoulders, lean muscles and toned limbs.
Whatever deity exists needs to grant me strength not to drip slick.
They wear a matching outfit; dark green trousers tucked into black leather boots and a tight green shirt with their callsign name and rank emblazoned on the chest.
Prime Alpha Knox.
