Page 95 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
Frickity frack, frack.
This is bad.
I’m getting attached to this Pack rapidly, even though the time I’ve spent with them hasn’t been the easiest.
Okay, it’s been fracking awful. It’s ridiculous that I’m so affection starved even basic human kindness has me swooning.
My Omega doesn’t give a shit. She’s never had the chance to be around potential mates before, and she’s restless. I’ve always felt a deep yearning for a mate, but I’ve never experienced an urge this strong.
I know why I won’t, why Ican’t, indulge these feelings.
They wouldn’t want me once they know what’s wrong with me.
I run a hand through my messy hair, wincing as my biceps burn in protest.
I know I have to get up. Prime Alpha Knox will not be pleased if I lie about in bed. A mental image of the harsh Prime Alpha dragging me out of the tent by the hair flashes through my mind. And then another image of him pulling my hair for an entirely different and pleasant reason springs forth. He’d be a controlling, dominant lover. Another kink I’m not interested in.
Another lie.
The errant thought makes me launch up and out of bed.
I try to comb out my hair, but as usual, it’s not cooperating. I hastily throw it into a messy top knot and huff when the rebellious strand immediately breaks free.
I look and feel like a rut-damned mess and I try hard not to care. My Omega instincts are screaming at me to look my best for our mates.
Frack.
I mentally sit my naughty Omega on a step stool, hold her shoulders, stare in her face and say the words slowly but firmly.
They are not our mates.
Especially that rutting dickbag, Knox.
Footsteps crunching on the gravel outside the tent is the only warning I get before a large Alpha frame enters the bunkhouse.
“Ah-ha, sleeping drop-dead-gorgeous beauty has risen from the dead,” Blaze announces with a wink, and my core clenches in response.
He’s holding a bowl and a steaming mug. I raise an eyebrow inquisitively.
“Thought I’d bring you breakfast in bed today,” he shrugs, handing me the bowl and placing the mug on the small bedside table beside the empty water cup.
My stomach rumbles, and he snickers.
Blaze has been bringing me food and drinks. He escorts me to the food tent, and insists on plating up massive servings that I can never finish. Of course, I think it’s all a ruse to watch me eat.
He’s a such a weird dude, and I’m starting to like it.
I sit on the edge and shovel a mouthful of cereal in my mouth. It’s bland, flavorless, and I eat like a woman starved. I’m drained. I think all my energy evaporated into sweat and carbon dioxide from my heaving breaths.
I hope they’re going to take it easier on me today. Knowing Prime Asshole, probably not.
I glance back up at Blaze who is standing in the same military stance as Knox, feet wide, hands behind his back. Yet, he makes it look so different. So very, very different. He’s stock still, not a single muscle moving, and he’s staring.
It’s intense and heated and a little deranged.
I almost choke on my cereal, and force myself to swallow.
He’s watching my lips as I chew like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. He has no shame about staring.
