I bet ‘Punish the Omega’ is scrawled at the top of his agenda.
His good mood from our hot chocolate night by the fire is gone, and the antagonistic smirk is back in his rightful place.
The dickbag looks almost giddy with the idea of throwing me around under the guise of training.
Prime Asshole is waiting. He’s wearing his usual military attire, and I don’t understand why the sight of his tight shirt and camouflaged trousers still causes a stirring inside me.
He hates you,I try to remind myself.
Except, I don’t believe that’s true anymore. I think he simply doesn’t know how to behave around me.
“Well? Are you ready to admit defeat?” He folds his arms, widens his stance, and my eyes flick to his thickly corded muscles. My traitorous inner Omega swoons as his shirt tightens around his biceps.
I tear my gaze away and fixate on his boots. Tuffs of hardy grass are pushing up through the rocks and dirt, fighting for life despite the harsh conditions.
I shouldn’t be here.
Omegas don’t fight. It goes against every biological urge, against our very nature. We nurture and provide comfort. We create life and preserve it.
Except that’s another lie I’m telling myself.
That’s why I’m here. I’m not a typical Omega. I never will be ordinary and this is my chance to prove I’m worth more. To prove Omegas are capable of more if we put their minds to it.
I’m scared and out of my depth, but this isn’t where my story ends.
I tightly squeeze my fist, feeling my knuckles crack, as I forcefully bite my inner cheek to suppress my appalled Omega instincts.
Run. Flee. Submit. Submit to Prime Alpha. Submit.
The instincts are powerful. They rise up and up. My entire body trembles as I fight against myself. I focus on the thick, white scar that crossed over the bridge of Knox’s nose, the deep scar that tells a story of its own, to center myself.
“Do it, Omega Sparks.”
He says my name, and it’s enough to break through my body’s demands.
With a primal shout, I burst forth like a firework.
I want to slam my clenched fist into his smug face, but he’s too tall. I can’t reach, so I settle for throwing my punch at his gut.
He doesn’t even flinch as my fist collides with him. Prime Alpha Knox stands tall, arms still folded over his broad chest, unmoved by my pathetic attack.
My forward momentum puts me off balance and I trip on my own feet, clumsily stumbling.
Pain radiates from my hand and I clutch it to my chest, swallowing the howl of pain straining to escape.
My ego hurts almost as much as my fist.
Prime Alpha Knox lets out an exasperated sigh.
I glare at him through the single rebellious strand that has somehow managed, once again, to escape from my tight braids.
“Terrible.”
I rub my hand and grimace at the pain. It’s exactly what I expect punching a brick wall would feel like. Knox is pure rigid muscle.
“What was that, Omega Sparks?”
I frown at his condescending tone. “A punch?”
