That is when the tallest alpha finally fully regains consciousness. He lifts his cuffed hands, stares at them for a moment, then wipes blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You’ll regret this, Gross. You stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. This had nothing to do with you. Do you even know that this beta killed four alphas? The fucker is called Alpha Slayer!" He scoffs.
"Are you confessing here?" I erupt. "You admit you wanted to make an example of him?"
The alpha grimaces slightly, he probably realizes it’s not wise to talk about his real plans for Salt.
"It was just supposed to be a little lesson. A scare, nothing more. We weren’t planning anything. It was just…" He pauses, a twisted, almost amused smile crossing his face. "A joke."
"A joke?" Salt speaks for the first time, sitting in one of the front seats now, his face pale, his jaw muscles twitching. "Saying you wanted to see the Alpha Slayer take three alpha dicks didn’t sound like a joke, you bastard!"
The alpha rolls his eyes. "That’s exactly why I didn’t want that idiot coming along on this transport," he growls, glancing athis companions. "It was nothing. Just a joke. We were only going to scare you a little. No big deal."
It is obvious he is trying to downplay it, and I am not buying it for a second.
"The only joke here is what’s going to happen next. You’ll pay for this, scumbags!"
"Relax. A joke is a joke. We can continue the transport like planned."
"No. We are not continuing anything," I say flatly, folding my arms across my chest. "We wait until the right people get here to handle this. And I’m not taking my eyes off Salt, not with you anywhere near him."
Salt suddenly rolls his eyes and gets to his feet.
"I’m not sitting in here with them, in the alpha fumes. You got a cigarette?" he asks the older beta, who nods. "Mind sharing?"
"Sure."
Salt heads for the bus exit, walking a little awkwardly since his ankles are still cuffed.
"Well…" the beta hesitates, then gives in and follows him out.
I have no intention of staying inside with those assholes, so I step out as well.
Gross lights a cigarette for Salt and hands it to him. Salt takes a quick drag.
I stand nearby, watching him closely, a hint of challenge in my stare, curious what he is going to say next. Instead, he turns toward me unexpectedly.
"You’re probably expecting a thank-you."
"Expecting is a strong word. It would be nice, but I didn’t do it to earn your favor, Salt. It was my duty as your new husband."
"Good. Then don’t expect one. You know I sat in that damn hall for hours convinced you ditched me, asshole? And I still haven’t cooled off from that."
"Fair." I shrug and turn away, and there is more than one reason for that.
I can hear Salt’s heart pounding hard. I get the sense he did not let himself show how scared he really was. He is clearly trying to act tough, but his body is telling a different story. He leans against the bus, pale, his fingers shaking noticeably.
After a brief moment of hesitation, driven by a sudden impulse, I step toward him, grab the waistband of his jeans, and pull him against me, wrapping him in a hug.
But it becomes something else almost instantly.
For a brief moment, when my fingers brush his bare skin where his T-shirt has ridden up, a wave of intense, blissful heat rolls through my body. It is deeply erotic. I gasp, and he does too.
I expect him to fight me, to pull away, but he goes slack in my arms. I hear his uneven breathing, the wild rhythm of his heart. He’s shaking. My alpha instincts take over. I protectively wrap my arms around him, then I lower my head and press my mouth to his neck gland, scraping lightly with my teeth.
He lets out a sharp, breathy sound.
I respond with a rare sound, an alpha purr designed to calm distressed omegas, but I dare to use it on Salt. That sound, resonating deep in my chest, seems to have an effect. He strangely melts into me, his body reacting on a physical level, almost like his adrenaline is leaving his system in real time.
