Page 8 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
Dazz snorts, throwing his hands into the air as if he’s addressing the universe. “Screw having only one. I want a whole damn Pack! I’m not afraid to admit I want to be the center of their attention. Imagine it, ladies. The scents, the passion, the pleasure…” He grins and winks at me. “I’d have a great big bed, and we’d all curl up together and sleep all day and bang all night.”
Ember clicks her tongue. “Trust you to want what doesn’t exist anymore. Packs are extinct. Alphas don’t share Omegas.”
“We’re dreaming here, Em. Dream with me! If we’re satisfying my every whim, I’ll add a female Alpha to the mix.”
Female Alphas are almost as rare as male Omegas.
He looks over at me, his eyes wide and expectant.
“I think I’d like to travel, ya know? See the world.”
I don’t say myactualdream out loud. I keep it tucked tightly in my heart. It’s too tender to let it out into the cruel world.
I dream of my Prime Alpha taking me far away from this military base.
Of him loving me despite my flaws and failings.
Of my broken, jagged parts slotting into the cracks of his, and supporting each other through the trials life provides.
“Yeah, well, you can’t leave. You’d end up dead, or worse, in the Companionship Program,” Ember snaps, fear quivering beneath her false bravado.
I press my lips together and stand up, busying myself with packing up our little oasis – the click of the deckchairs folding closed, signaling the return to reality.
It hurts to hear the words said aloud, but she’s right. If I leave the safety of The Omega Division, I won’t last a week before I’m snatched by the government or rogue Alphas. Omegas are treasured in our society… but not if they’re broken like I am.
Alphas can’t be trusted.
I wrap my towel around my shoulders to ward off the cooling evening air.
I sigh heavily.
“Yeah, I know. It’s just a dream.”
Chapter Two
Halley
I’m on my hands and knees in a dimly lit supply closet, digging through a poorly organized shelf, looking for the spare supply of pre-rolled bandages. I cautiously brush aside cobwebs and shift dusty boxes around, feeling my frustration grow by the minute.
Why does every supply closet have one of these shelves? The place where goods are shoved when they don’t belong anywhere else.
I can relate so hard. I don’t belong where I should.
I catch my purple-colored eyes in the reflection of a bedpan and scoff. Trust me to be having self-reflective epiphanies beside a stack of bedpans.
Who needs a therapist when you’ve got a mop bucket and a roll of paper towels to talk to?
Sitting back on my haunches, I blow a strand of long, wavy brown hair out of my eyes. This particular strand is determined to rebel against the regulation bun. No matter how much sticky gel and painful pins I secure it with, it always escapes.
“Sparks!” The door to the supply closet bangs open and I jump, the contents of the shelf spilling onto the floor.
I’d recognize that voice anywhere, and a wide grin spreads across my face as I turn to the figure standing in the doorway.
A female Beta points an accusatory finger at me. “You sneaky little shit! I didn’t know you transferred to hospital duty.”
“Why would I tell a gossipy witch like you, Everlyn?” I exclaim, laughing and playfully punching her in the shoulder.
We’re old friends. In fact, she was the first friend I made when I arrived at Barkrood Military Base in the middle of the night in my father’s beat-up truck.
