Page 13 of First (After the End #1)

“A bit. You hate Lord Larsen, and probably the other noble houses, too—and who can blame you? You usually procure your bed partners in less official ways. You don’t appear to be sexually interested in me, not in the slightest, which tells me that all this is to provoke.

In my opinion, it will work. Oh, and despite having become general, you still enjoy sleeping on the floor.

” His eyes narrow, and I glance at the pallet next to the bed.

Just a handful of blankets laid out on the hard ground.

“It doesn’t take outstanding observational skills to tell that you prefer a rougher surface. ”

“You have them, though.”

“What?”

“Outstanding observational skills.”

“Oh. Well, healing and paying attention do go hand in hand.” I lean back a little, palms flat against the mattress. “So, should I take off the dress?”

His smile spreads across his handsome face. I guess he is intimidating, but maybe I’m in shock. That, or there must be something else wrong with me, because my fight-or-flight reflex has yet to kick in. “You are very forward,” he muses.

“For an Omega?”

“For anyone.” He’s not displeased, I don’t think. “Surprised that a dyed-in-the-wool conservative like Lord Larsen hasn’t trained the impertinence out of you.”

“I wouldn’t call asking simple, straightforward questions impertinence,” I say.

But then I add, reluctantly, “Lady Larsen and Lennart have been keeping me out of his sight. For a while, I think they even managed to convince him that I’d never formed a single opinion.

” I shrug, still unsure about whether I should be getting the nakedness thing going.

Maybe the reason is that I’ve never been a procrastinator. Simply put, I’d rather be fucked now and get it over with, than spend hours biting my nails.

“You know,” I muse, studying the general, “you’re not too dissimilar.”

“Who?”

“You and Lord Larsen. Maybe that’s why you don’t get along.”

He snorts. “The reason we don’t get along is that he’s a sociopath who would drive this stronghold and all who live in it into the ground, if allowed.”

“He thinks the same of you.” His deep scowl nearly makes me chuckle. “Oh, I’m not saying he’s right. But I’ve been in the room while you were being discussed. Several times. The nobles, they don’t understand—”

“There is nothing for them to understand,” he drawls. “They just need to do as they’re fucking told.”

This time, I do laugh. “Do you really think they’ll bow to you, sir? They’re members of the Great House Larsen. The only way this will end is if one of you steps back—or in bloodshed. Bloodshed, I would like to add, that will befall not just the two of you but thousands of innocent bystanders.”

He doesn’t appear to be affected by my words—except for the muscle twitching in his jaw.

When he moves, I expect him to finally come for his prize—me.

All he does, however, is pull one of the chairs by the bed closer and sit across from me, elbows on his knees as he leans forward.

He unlatches his cloak, letting it pool behind his back.

His eyes never once let go of mine.

“How lucky I am,” he says at last, a sarcastic tinge to his tone. “I expected a mediocre fuck and received some fine sociopolitical analysis from a cold Omega who knows very little about the true nature of the events that led us to where we are today.”

A burst of annoyance pops inside me; I tilt my head with acerbic sweetness. “Aw, ‘mediocre’? Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“I plan to be hard on you.”

“That’s what I heard, and yet…”

Could that be the issue? The reason I’m not bruised and bleeding, pleading for my life in a corner of the room? Maybe General Agard wanted to take me by force to punish the Larsens, but I’m not attractive enough for him to make that happen.

But I don’t believe so. I think that he might like this. Talking. Being challenged. The pushback. It’s there, in the tug at the corner of his lips, the fine lines webbing his eyes. “Has Lennart taken you already?” he asks.

“You know how the noble-born are. It’s forbidden to take an Omega ahead of their—”

“Mating, yes. Has he taken you?”

I don’t say, but the general knows the answer.

“He hasn’t, huh? Is that because you’re cold? Likely not pliant enough to take a knot? No children, probably.” A cruel twist in his eyes. “Are you no fun, Sofia?”

The jab hurts, but I smile through gritted teeth. “Apparently. Now that I have failed all the Alphas in my life, what shall I do with myself?”

“What will you do with yourself? After I return you, used, soiled, what do you think House Larsen will do? What do you think your beloved Lennart will do?”

“I don’t know, sir.” I lean forward. “All this talk of fucking me against my will, of ruining me just to get back at Lord Larsen, and yet here I am.” I point at myself with a flourish. “Still untouched.”

“And yet eager to be rutted.”

“Someone in this room should be.”

Another twitch of his mouth. His eyes flash with amusement and heat. “Mark my words, Lady Larsen: I am your Alpha tonight. I can make what’s about to happen extremely painful.”

“And I’m going to ask you one more time: is this the part where I take off my dress?”

His eyes drop to my neckline. My breasts. Then the place where my hip joins my leg. And just when I’m about to ask again, he’s right in front of me. Crowding me against the bed. Palms on either side of my knees.

“But what if I want to fuck you in your mating dress, Sofia?” His face is just an inch from mine. His breath, not quite steady. “What if I want to send you home wearing it, stained with my come all over it? What then, hmm?”

All at once, I cannot think. And it becomes even harder when he leans further into me, his nose running up the column of my neck as I try to hold myself as still as possible.

“What the fuck,” he murmurs into the hollow of my throat, and I shiver.

“What?”

“I’ve met cold Omegas before. They usually smell like Betas.”

“I don’t?”

“You… Fuck.” He inhales again, deeply. But this time, afterward, his tongue licks a stripe at the base of my neck.

I shudder. He does, too.

“You smell so fucking— No one could mistake you for anything but what you are.”

He inches back, face just centimeters from mine. We’re both breathing hard.

“They told you to keep the veil on?” he asks.

I remember Lady Larsen’s words. Nod. “I don’t know why.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t want me to see you.”

“Why would they—”

“Because you’re a little too beautiful for your mate’s peace of mind.”

“Lennart is beautiful, too,” I say weakly.

A soft snort. Once again, he nuzzles the hinge of my jaw. “You could do better. You deserve better.”

“Is that what mating is about? A race? Acquiring the best you can?”

“I don’t have the faintest idea about mating. Now, fucking…” His teeth close gently around my throat. A groan rises from his chest. “I take it back. This is going to be nice. It’s going to be more than nice.”

“What is?”

“Fucking you. I’ll try to break you in gently. So you’ll be able to take a couple of rounds. Hell, I might need more than that from you.”

I close my eyes, mortified—and warmer than I’ve ever felt. Something pulsates at the base of my stomach in liquid bursts. “I hope you enjoy it,” I manage to say.

Which makes him pull back. Again, there’s that look of surprised amusement on his face. “You hope I enjoy it?”

I nod, realizing how weird and backward this sounds, but…

“I don’t know if I would be able to enjoy sex anyway.

And since I’m only here as a pawn in a game between two Alphas…

I understand that I cannot be afforded the privilege of being wanted for myself.

But if my body has to be defiled, I’d at least hope for the defiler to enjoy the process. ” I exhale a laugh.

He listens to me open-mouthed, eyes all pupils. And when I’m done, he asks, breathless, “What are you doing to me?”

I blink, confused. Then shake my head.

“Where the fuck did they even find you? Are you some kind of—weapon that they built to take me out?”

“I don’t understand.”

“The fucking scent. And the face. The tits, and these outrageous things you keep saying, like I haven’t been thinking of putting my knot so deep inside you, you’ll feel in it in your throat—”

A chime interrupts us. A beat later, the automatic doors swish open.

I half expect his brother to walk in, or maybe the head of his guard. Instead, a slight Omega man of average height takes a few steps inside the chambers. From my cage made of Gabriel’s arms, I scan his curly hair and thin lips, unable to place him. “Sir,” he says, “something happened.”

With a deep, displeased breath, Gabriel straightens to his full height. He doesn’t look away from me as he adjusts the ridge of his cock through his combat suit, then asks, “What?”

I feel cold. Empty. As if rudely awakened in the middle of a particularly good dream.

“The drainage system.” The man glances at me. I’ve experienced disapproval before, but I now know what it’s like to be held in absolute contempt. “South wing.”

“Shit. I’ll be right there.” He runs a hand through his hair, stares me down for a few moments, as if trying to figure out what to do with me, and then simply orders, “Stay.”

I pout. “What if I want to take a night stroll around the military quarters?”

“You will be killed on sight, that’s what.”

I glance at the beast who seems on the verge of taking a nap while lounging at his feet. “Will your…guard cat be here to ensure my continued presence?”

“I told you—she does whatever she wants.”

Alex yawns in response, then begins to lick her paw as her master leaves the room.

“Gabriel,” I call when he’s at the entrance. I was, at least to a degree, responsible for his most recent erection. I think we’re on a first-name basis.

But I still don’t know what it is that prompts me to say, “Tomorrow, when Lennart comes to collect me…if you send me back to him untouched, all this theater will have been in vain.”

He smiles, predator-like. “In that case, maybe I won’t send you back at all.”

My stomach flips. I watch Gabriel cross the threshold with Alex in tow, and tell myself that I’m relieved to be left alone.