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“Fight me all you want—you’re mine no matter what, and I’ll enjoy the challenge—but if you escape, I’ll send your sister to the slave market. Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll give her to my second in command instead of sending her to the harem. Understand, tiny tigress?”
Her bottom lip quivers and tears shimmer in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. She lifts her chin and drops her arms to her sides.
The rise and fall of her pert breasts under the layers of filth catch my attention. I trail my fingers along her jawline and skip over my knuckles wrapped around her throat to tease the collar of her shirt.
White-hot agony slices along my ribs. I react on reflex and knock her arm aside before grabbing her wrist and pinning it to the bulkhead above her shoulder. My blood drips from the small paring knife peeking from her fist.
Sensing her next move, I spin her around, twist her arm to the small of her back, splay my fingers over her shoulder blades, and press her front against the wall.
“Drop them both,” I snarl into her hair.
Two knives clatter to the floor.
Pride and fury war within me.
This conniving female is mine. I adore her tenacity and resilience. It’s no wonder she’s survived into adulthood. She’s shameless.
I’ll have fun breaking and taming her.
With rough movements, I frisk her, careful not to touch her bare flesh for fear of losing control, but checking her from top to bottom. She grunts as I squish her against the wall with my bulk. I can’t help but smirk as I snarl into her hair.
“Bad girls get punished. Are you ready, tiny tigress?”
Chapter 3
Bette
Panic closes my throat as the giant alpha presses his front against my back. He’s too big. Too strong. He overshadows me in every way.
I must have lost my mind when I tried to stab him. Only an idiot would provoke someone so dangerous.
The aroma of his blood stands out among the others. Full of rich, spicy alpha pheromones, his scent calls to my omega self in ways none of the other alphas have.
He tilts his hips. I freeze in terror as his massive shaft grinds against my lower back.
There’s no way I’ll survive his rutting.
He releases my wrist and rips the back of the old, stinky shirt from collar to hem before pushing it off my shoulders. I fight to keep it on, but he yanks the fabric off my arms and captures my hands against the walls with his much larger ones. With the side of my face plastered against the rough surface and his bulk flattening my entire body, I stare at his knuckles as they engulf mine.
I should stop fighting. There’s no way I can win against a monster like him, but my heart aches for freedom. I can’t control my reaction to him anymore than I could stop my rampage when I saw the alpha manhandling my sister.
“No, stop, don’t hurt her,” Hera cries over the sound of waves and fighting.
My heart pounds against my sternum, and dread climbs up my throat.
I open my mouth to tell her to be quiet, but the brute pulls my hands to the small of my back and pushes the filthy bottom half of my disguise down my legs. I grit my teeth and lock my muscles against the urge to kick him.
Expecting the worst, I stumble when he pulls me away from the wall with my regular clothes still intact. My faded shorts and sleeveless shirt offer little protection against leering eyes, but I welcome them considering the alternative.
Long-buried memories resurface. Dread twists my insides as I remember feminine screams, masculine grunts, and bare flesh slapping together as fire, water, and oil swirled in a deadly mixture.
The gigantic alpha pulls off his belt. Bile sours the back of my tongue.
I blink in confusion as he wraps the warm leather around my wrists, securing my arms behind my back.
“Just in case you get the notion to jump in the water,” he gathers my hair in his fist, “no one except me will come in after you…” with a twist of his wrist, he tilts my head, exposing my neck, “if I decide you’re worth it,” he snarls.
The hairs on my nape lift as his breath ghosts over my temple, our height difference so great he’d have to bend a lot further to reach my ear.
