The upset women skittered away as he stepped closer, the Alpha offering a hand in a gesture that reminded Brenya too much of Jules’s offered palm from the night before. And what had happened when she’d taken it.
“I don’t care.” And Brenya turned away from him, stiff. “I’m not leaving them… now that they know.”
Gently spoken but clear, he added, “I’m authorized to use force if you try to escape the room. I strongly suggest you stay ten paces away from all access panels. The console is off limits. Please do not put me or my Brothers in a position where we would have to hurt you.”
16
The way Brenya’s eyes burned when she was angry, it took a godslike level of self-control for Jules not to drag her down to the floor and kiss her until she was as drunk on him as he was on her.
He had not had her to himself when she was clearheaded yet. Though Jules had known she would be fierce. Meek women were not trained to handle major external repairs on Domes. No. Engineering grunts had to be decisive, quick-thinking, and fearless.
Even if all that hard-edged resolve was packed into one slight Omega body and wrapped in the personality of someone genuinely kind.
Jules very much looked forward to getting to know her. Giving her everything she might ever ask for.
“Your hair. I like it this way.” Simply said, Jules configured his face into the right expression for the moment. And it worked. Brenya was analyzing every microexpression, misinterpreting, questioning her evaluation, recalculating, and then a quick telltale flush when he added, “You are very pretty, Brenya.”
Compliments were not something his mate knew how to navigate. They confused her, made her blush, made her deeply uncomfortable.
“Iloveit, even.” Warm smile growing, Jules’s eye twinkled as he said, “I love your hair like that.”
A purr. Subtle, inviting.
And then female fingers were nervously touching the shortened ends that waved by her ears. Her thoughts redirected to self-consciousness. Girlish cuteness.
Lucia had done well.
Brenya looked delicious.
And he would eat her. Swallow her whole and keep her inside him, safe.
Starting now. “Everything you said to Lucia was correct. Everything but this, I’m not responsible for it. I did not authorize the shipment of Omegas. Nor did I know they were in the air.” Another carefully calculated expression, one of vulnerability coupled with an encouraging softening about his mouth. Not a smile, but something disarming, hinting that there was warmth waiting if she would creep nearer.
And he? Jules made damn sure his effect on her was muted.
The pair-bond was open, his inner demons still and ready. To love her.
But he couldn’t force it. That would never work. He could only entice her to accept.
His wonderful mate had grown more savvy in such a short time, eyeing him with open suspicion. As she should.
Next, Jules softened his posture, dropping his head subtly to the side. Appearing approachable so she might engage. So he would not intimidate her. “You were in my arms all evening. You know I did not access my COM.”
There it was, another charming blush. Followed quickly by a look of insecurity as the light within her flickered.
Jacques had done a number fucking up this woman, and it might be years before Brenya believed she was desirable as a person and not just as an Omega.
“Please,” he said it softly.
Her breath caught like she might speak, but Brenya closed her mouth and pivoted as if she was going to head for the door—to flee to her clock room and suffer alone while Jacques forced her to climax from his prison cell.
Jules would not let that happen. She needed safety and reassurance, not retreat and rumination. Sheneededhim. More than she might ever realize. “Please, Brenya. I’m right here waiting for you to ask me.”
She already knew the answer; he knew that. So when she looked at her feet and seemed so deeply sad when her little voice asked, “Was it your idea?” he wanted to lie.
But he didn’t.
Jules was also very careful not to move too quickly or startle her as he let her see behind the curtain just a little. “The playbook of tactics I have crafted is full of far more invasive, world-ending strategies—such as the virus I have hidden inside you or mental manipulation techniques that would break morale. A shipment of Omegas is child’s play. A move those who stand against me will ultimately find weak—a distraction that will unbalance my opponents for a few days, nothing more. Now, if the women had been infected with gonorrhea or lice, that would demean the males, require medical intervention, shorten tempers from itching and burning urination. Do you get my point, Brenya? I would have struck much harder and with targeted consequences. You’re analyzing the scenario from a victim’s point of view; you’re thinking of the Omegas and seeing a parallel to your history with Jacques. But, have you asked yourself what wasreallyon that ship?What had to get here?Why was a distraction of that nature necessary?”
