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A sob wrenched free of my chest, the absolute unfairness of the entire fucked up situation breaking the last bit of sanity I hadn’t realized I’d been clinging to. Burying my face against his chest, I inhaled his soft cotton scent, my fingers curling against the soft material of his shirt. His stomach was a slab of muscle under my fists.
“Hazel,” he whispered against the crown of my head, his tone pleading, “sweetheart, you have to calm down.”
I tipped my head back, his face blurry through my tears. “I can’t do this. I won’t do this,” I vowed, shaking my head. “I’ll kill him.”
“His council would kill you,” Morris pointed out, his chest expanding with a sharp, worried breath. His hands came up to frame my face, the rough calluses of his palms somehow soothing. “Hazel, you can’t?—”
“What I can’t do is live like this,” I hissed. “I won’t. I don’t care if they kill me.”
His eyes blazed as he pressed me against the tree, his massive body pinning mine in place. “Hazel, I need you to trust me.”
A scoff ripped from my throat. “Trust you?” I tried to bat his hands away, but he didn’t budge.
His green eyes were practically glowing as they met mine, trying to convey something his words couldn’t seem to. “Hazel, please. I’m begging you to just trust me. I promise this will all make sense, but I need you to just hang in here for a little while longer.”
“Why?” My eyes searched his, desperate for answers. For a single shred of hope.
His eyes slid shut, his forehead dipping to press against mine for a heartbeat. “I can’t answer that right now.”
I jerked back, my head hitting the trunk of the tree hard enough that spots danced in my vision.
“Hazel.” He barked my name, his fingers coming up to gently inspect the area.
“Get off me,” I hissed, shrinking back as much as I could. “You’re just like them.” I lifted my chin a notch, daring him. “Go ahead. Tell the High Alpha what I said. See if I care. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll decide I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
Morris’s head tilted to the side. “He won’t do that.”
“Oh, no?” I snorted.
“No,” he replied, his tone firm. “Don’t you get it?”
“Get what?” I spat.
His breath fanned across my face, minty and fresh. “You’re worth everything, Hazel.”
7
Hazel
Morris’s words were still ringing in my ears as we left the seclusion of the tree and stepped back onto the path. Thankfully no one was milling around as we walked toward the meeting house. As his boots hit the bottom stair, the door pushed open and I recognized Jared, an older alpha from the inner circle, standing there.
His lips twisted in a sneer, the lines of his leathery skin contorting into a mix of hunger and hate as he watched me ascend the steps. As soon as I was within reach, he grabbed for my arm.
I flinched away as Morris stepped between us, his body shielding me from the assault. “The High Alpha’s omega is not to be touched.”
Jared sucked in a breath through his yellowing teeth as he rocked back on his heels. “Don’t forget your place, beta.”
Morris didn’t twitch. “My place is protecting the High Alpha’s omega from any and all threats.”
Jared bristled and leaned down, a whiff of his moldy leaves scent assaulting my senses. “That’s right, because all you’re good for is protecting, right? Can’t knot the bitch, can you, beta? Can’t make her scream?” He used the word like a slur. Like that somehow made Morris less of a man.
As if forcing your knot into an unwilling hole was somehow the mark of a leader.
Morris’s head tilted to the side. “If you have to rely on knotting a woman to make her scream, then I’m pretty sure you don’t know what you’re doing, alpha.” Derision dripped from his words.
Jared growled and stepped forward, his barrel chest bumping Morris and sending me skittering backwards as the cloying, acidic scent of pheromones permeated the air. To his credit, Morris didn’t back down. He was easily twenty years Jared’s junior, but the only size Jared had came from genetics.
Alphas were naturally taller, stronger, and more fit than betas—and definitely than omegas—but Jared had been content to rely on his natural genetics instead of enhancing them. His chest and stomach were solid, but round, and I knew for a fact from the way he liked to stomp around shirtless in the hot summer months that he had zero muscle definition.
