Strong fingers grabbed hold of my upper arm, spinning me around with effortless strength. I collided with a wall of solid muscle, my hands splaying against Stefano’s chest as he backed me against a tree trunk. It was like running into a particularly handsome brick wall—all unyielding planes and ridiculous warmth.
“Going somewhere, little wildcat?” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft, like the quiet before an avalanche.
His body caged me completely—one arm braced beside my head, the other still gripping my arm, his chest inches from mine. Heat radiated from him in the cool night air, along with that pine and winter scent that made something low in my stomach tighten. It was like being trapped in a very sexy commercial for alpine-scented body wash.
“Get off me,” I hissed, pushing against his chest with both hands. “I can’t breathe with you looming over me like some deranged bodybuilder with boundary issues. Is personal space just a theoretical concept in your world, or do you actively work at being this invasive?”
His lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He leaned closer, deliberately invading my space until his face was mere inches from mine. “You had your chance to behave,” he said, his breath warm against my cheek. “Now we do this my way. And my way involves ensuring you understand exactly who’s in control.”
The iron grip on my arm shifted, his hand sliding down to circle my wrist with casual possession. His thumb pressed against my racing pulse, and something in his expression changed—a flash of satisfaction as he felt the physical evidenceof my body’s response. I hated how transparent my physiology was, every reaction on display for this alpha to catalog and interpret.
“Your heart’s racing,” he said, his voice dropping to that register that seemed designed to make omegas pay attention—the auditory equivalent of a hand at the back of your neck. “Is that fear, little wildcat? Or something else entirely?”
“It’s disgust,” I lied, my voice embarrassingly breathless. “Having your hands on me makes my skin crawl. Also, I just ran through the forest trying to escape your creepy alpha kidnapping ring, so an elevated heart rate is kind of expected. Basic biology, not some omega response to your overwhelming alpha presence.”
His smile widened, showing teeth that gleamed in the moonlight. “Another lie. Your body betrays you, Leo. I can smell it—that sweet undercurrent beneath the jasmine. The way your scent thickens when I’m close.”
My face flamed. I opened my mouth to deliver what would undoubtedly have been a cutting retort when his free hand came up to grip my chin, tilting my face toward his with a possessiveness that made my pulse jump.
“I warned you,” he said, his voice deceptively soft. “I told you there would be consequences. Did you think I was bluffing? That I make empty threats?”
Something about his tone sent a different kind of heat through me—not fear, exactly, but a primal awareness that made my skin prickle. I tried to suppress it, focusing instead on the indignity of my position and not the way my body was responding to his proximity.
“Fuck your consequences,” I spat, trying to jerk my chin from his grip. “And fuck you too. I’m not your pet or your prisoner! I’m not some omega toy you can manipulate with alpha commands. I’m a person, you psychotic control freak!”
The sound of approaching footsteps announced Marco and Matteo’s arrival. Fan-fucking-tastic. The whole alpha circus had arrived to witness my humiliation. Just add a ringmaster and some clowns, and we’d have a complete three-ring spectacle of omega degradation.
“You never learn, do you?” Marco sighed, looking me up and down with a mixture of amusement and something darker that made my stomach flip. “Such wasted potential. All that fire and spirit, and you insist on burning yourself rather than working with the inevitable.”
“He needs discipline,” Matteo said, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “Real discipline this time.”
Stefano made a sound of agreement, his chest rumbling against my palms where they remained trapped between us. Before I could process what was happening, he stepped back and in one fluid motion, bent and lifted me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.
The position was becoming distressingly familiar—my view consisting of his back and the ground, blood rushing to my head, his arm a steel band across the backs of my thighs.
“Put me down!” I pounded my fists against his back, knowing it was futile but refusing to go quietly. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking skin you alive and make a wallet out of your?—”
Crack!A sharp, unexpected smack landed on my ass, the sting radiating through me even through the sweatpants. I gasped, more from shock than pain.
“Did you just—” Another smack, harder this time. “Stop that!”
“No more warnings,” Stefano stated, carrying me back toward camp with long, purposeful strides. “No more chances. You’ve lost the privilege of freedom.”
“I never had freedom, you delusional dictator!” I continued to struggle, though with considerably less effectiveness given myposition. “What exactly do you think you’re going to do? Spank me into submission like I’m a naughty child?”
The bark of laughter that escaped him sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t amused laughter—it was the sound of a predator who’d just cornered particularly interesting prey. “Precisely.”
My stomach dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m very serious,” he replied, and there was something in his voice that made me believe him. “You need to learn that actions have consequences, little wildcat. And since you refuse to listen to words, perhaps your body will absorb the lesson better.”
We reached the camp, where Stefano bypassed the chairs and headed straight for a fallen log at the edge of the firelight. He sat down, and in one smooth motion, he flipped me over so that I landed across his lap, face down, ass up, in the most humiliating position imaginable. The blood that had rushed to my head now flooded my cheeks as I realized all three alphas had a perfect view of me arranged like the world’s most reluctant omega offering.
“What the actual fuck?” I bucked wildly, trying to push myself up, but his hand between my shoulder blades pinned me down effortlessly. “Don’t you fucking dare! I’m not a goddamn child! I’m a twenty-one-year-old adult who you’re physically assaulting! How is this ‘protection’?”
“No,” he agreed, his free hand resting with casual possession on my upturned ass. “You’re an adult who refuses to behave like one. So now you get treated like the defiant brat you’re acting like.”
“I’ll kill you for this,” I snarled, though the threat sounded pathetically weak even to my own ears when I was bent over his knee like a nineteenth-century schoolboy. “I’ll wait until you’re sleeping and carve your organs into festive shapes for my Christmas decora?—”
