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“Fuck you. I don’t have to wear it…”
“Wrong.”
“…I don’t have to go to your stupid party…”
“Your party…”
“I don’t have to do anything.” I coil the vines up his legs, shocked by how easily they come to me. Since caging thoseAlphas on the streets of Dark City, it’s felt less like drawingwater out of a deep, deep well and more like flexing my fingers. The vines come so easily to me now that it scares me sometimes. All the time. Every time.
What scares me more? When my vines come for Adam, they don’t produce thorns…
“You’re not a child. Don’t make me punish you like one.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Bend you over my knee.”
He drops his gaze to my hips and I burn all over. I open my mouth, seconds from dropping to my knees and begging him to order me to present for him, when the doors to the room burst open. “Don’t you dare!”
Sierra throws herself between Adam and me with both arms spread to the sides, like a referee at a boxing match prepared to block us from going at one another. “Do you know how long it took Meredith to do her makeup? If you mess it up for the third time, she’ll skin me and kill you both.”
Adam grins and I hate the way it makes everything below my waist dissolve. I’m a puddle of melted knees, looking at him like this. I can’t believe I confessed to falling…no…it was a moment of weakness, nothing more. Right now, I’ve got a clear head and I remember that the Berserker of Dark City is really just a dick with occasionally good intentions and a suit perfectly tailored to his trim hips and his broad shoulders.
Way too perfectly tailored. I bite my bottom lip, hating Pri in this moment.
He clears his throat and my gaze pulls back up to his face. His beard’s grown back in and that’s not helping, either. I told him never to cut it and he’s a man who understands direction. It’s an unruly mess, almost as bad as his hair, and the contrast looks absolutely deadly against that suit, which is all crisp lines in overlapping shades of grey.
The dress Pri fitted me for arrived earlier and a woman called Meredith helped me with my hair and makeup, but she had a bit of a rough go of it. The first time Adam came into my room and saw me in a tight black dress with spaghetti straps and a slit all the way up to the hip, he advanced on me wordlessly, grabbed the dress by either side of the slit and tore it all the way up the side. Then he bent me over the vanity.
Pri, being the clever woman she is, sent me three backup dresses. The second dress didn’t survive Adam’s lust either, so we’re on the third now — a maroon number that weirdly doesn’t clash with my red hair and that has long sleeves. I hope, for my own sake, that we don’t have to go to dress four because it’s dark green velvet and makes me feel like Garden Girl, much less like the Omega of Dark City.
I’m the Omega of Dark City.
I swallow hard, fists balling and clenching as Adam’s glare fixes itself to my dress’s deep V. “Sierra, you’re going to move out from between me and my Omega. My Berserker doesn’t like that shit.”
Sierra curses, but backs up to the door. “Just…stay calm, Berserker.”
“The fuck am I supposed to do that when my Omega’s bein’ a naughty fuckin’ girl?”
I feel heat flood my face and take a half step back that pulls Adam a full foot forward and makes Sierra curse again. “Dragnovic…” she hisses in warning.
I’m getting hotter and hotter and push my hair back over my shoulder and fan my neck. My hair…it’s actually beenstyledfor the first time in my life. It’s been coiffed into curls that fall all the way down my back. Half of it is up in braids and twists that look kinda pretty, keeping it off of my face.
I can’t really wear makeup with all my freckles…at least, that’s what Adam said. He took one look at me with makeup on and I thought he was gonna kill Meredith. Then after he fucked me the first time, he told Meredith to wipe off the shit. She reapplied lipstick, blush and some smoky eye makeup that makes my eyes itch. I haven’t worn makeup before in my life. Have never worn a dress, either. Not sure I like it, but I do like the way Adam looks at me when I’m wearing it.
“Everybody out,” Adam orders.
“No way in hell,” Whiskey says, making me jolt. She appears like a spectre in the doorway behind Sierra. “You two need adult supervision.”
Adam glares at Whiskey, but she doesn’t back down. She stands at the door, keeping it propped open with one foot, and adjusts the lapel of her suit jacket since she refused to wear a dress. Calling it a suit is even a bit of a stretch. In all black with a leather sling crisscrossing her chest underneath her jacket, she looks ready for combat.
Finally, he sighs and removes his suit jacket. He tosses it to her and unbuttons his cuffs, then begins methodically rolling up his right sleeve. Oh. My. God. Why is this so attractive? I’ve seen his forearms before, but watching the starched white material move slowly up, up, up over his tanned, scarred skin, watching the muscles ripple beneath it, standing taut, and then relaxing…oh my…
I glance at the vanity behind me, looking for a weapon. I grab the mirror and hold it out in front of me like a sword. Adam smirks, “I look like Medusa?”
“What?”
“Not gonna use a mirror to turn me into stone.”
