Not just threaten him with murder, or lash out. But kill him.
She’d already devised three ways she could do it. Strangle him with the sheets in her nest. Bash his head in with the nearby vase. Kill herself.
That would assure his untimely death.
But Brenya could not bring herself to reach out for a single weapon. She just wasn’t built for violence. Not that he didn’t deserve it.
Warmed by his chest, Brenya panting, her face turned from his, refusing to look at, acknowledge, or speak to him.
Stiff, even as he’d adjusted her standard Beta Sector jumpsuit, one arm engaged around her middle. The Omega enraged.
This was not the seeping in of hisanger issues. This was her.
Right?
It had to be. She had every reason to be furious.
She’d been manhandled into this clothing that wasnothis used shirt while her malfunctioning brain had tried to process what he’d disclosed about the locations of the virus. Panicking over how she would get to them and destroy them.
Trying to remember each detail.
Worried. Deeply, deeply worried.
Because one place it had been hidden away in was outside of her power and beyond her skill. One untouchable secret location that doomed everyone in the Dome one way or another.
And this mate, this deceitful Beta… he’d stolen a vow from her, tricked her into a promise.
Ripped it right out of her chest. Assured she’d have to keep it.
Knowing what she now knew, Brenya couldneverleave Bernard Dome.
Ever.
Under any circumstances.
Because he’d told her…
Told her…
She couldn’t even think it without feeling her eyes burn and her legs shake.
And before she could process it. Before she could vomit or run… he told her he was taking her to Jacques.
That it was not an optional meeting.
That it was necessary to her health and wellbeing.
That he would physically carry her there kicking and screaming if he had to. And she had.
Kicked.
Screamed.
Begged.
Sobbed.
There was nothing else she could have done. One moment, she’d been content in her nest; the next horrified, and then immediately destroyed.
