Page 33 of Knot Your Rebel

“Sleep, Rebel. You’re okay. We can talk about things tomorrow before I bend you over my knee and make that ass red with my finger prints. What you did, staying here tonight, was reckless. The fact that you tried to have Nova lie to us about it was even worse. Whether you fucking like it or not, you are my damn responsibility, and I do not take that lightly. So, you will obey me. You will behave. And you will not put yourself in compromising situations like you did tonight. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she mumbles at me, and I can only picture the eye roll that would accompany it had her eyes been open.

Grabbing her chin, I force her to look at me. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now sleep.” Her eyes slide closed, almost on command.

I am the only fucking fallen pervert of an angel allowed in this room.

As I creep closer to the window, I start to see the marks where the intruder used some sort of pry bar to open it. I make a mental note to either move her out as soon as possible or install the best fucking security system money can buy, but I have a feeling I’d still spend most of my time here.

She needs rest. No matter how much I want to crawl into bed beside her and fuck her while she sleeps, I can’t. There’s been enough emotional violation of her being tonight. Just this once, I will refrain.

I pull off her shirt first, and then her pants before dragging the new sheets up and over her legs. I slip my own shirt over my head and down her body. Inhaling deeply, she moans and pulls the cotton material to her nose. My alpha puffs in pride, watching our omega crave our scent.

She dozes off, this time, not waking when I touch her. Leaning down, I press a kiss to her forehead. Sleep well, mate.

As I’m closing the door to her room, I’m shoved in the arm. “Why the fuck did you mark her?” The angry glare of her best friend greets me.

“Because she’s fucking mine,” I growl.

Her hands have found her hips, and she sticks one out to the side in that typical annoyed woman pose. “You had no right. You’re a dirty bastard for doing that without her permission because I know damn well she probably didn’t give it to you. She’s not reckless like that.”

I cock a grin at her, full of evil. “Can’t change it now, can we? Like I said before, she's mine, and if I had my way, she’d already be living with me, so just chill out.”

An audible gasp greets my ears like she’s aggrieved at my pompous attitude. Sorry, sweetheart.

Walking away from her, I make eye contact with Gunnar, who looks like he’s trying so fucking hard to keep his shit together. A grin threatens to break free, but then his eyes search behind me for Nova, and the corners of his mouth fold down.

See, fucking beta whipped.

My feet stop beside the leather couch, where I found Rebel when we came in, and I grab a blanket from the back, preparing to lie down.

“You’re not staying here.” That feral glare is back as I look at Nova’s face.

“Okay, I’ll make it easy. You let me sleep in peace on this couch here tonight…”

“Or…”

“Or I’ll go grab Rebel now, and we can go to my place. Think very carefully about your answer. You don’t know me, and you clearly don’t trust me. Do you want me to be alone with your friend, passed out drunk, and not able to fight back?”

“Ughh! You’re a…a…” I raise an eyebrow, watching as her face reddens, while she sputters over her response. “Bastard.”

I tap my chin, trying to look thoughtful. “Pretty sure you already used that word tonight… couldn’t come up with a better one?”

“You make me want to fucking scream!” She huffs, and then storms off to her room.

My eyes find Gunnar, and I nod to the door. “Go on. I’ll stay, make sure no one bothers them.”

He ambles towards me, shaking his head. “Nah, might as well have a fucking sleep over. Just don’t do any weird kinky shit to me if I sleep out here.”

I snort. “Fuck you, man. Wouldn’t touch you even if you happened to be the last person on Earth. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but dicks are not my style.”

“Dude… so serious. It was a fucking joke.” My head dips in a nod, and then I’m laying down on the couch and pulling a blanket over my legs. I watch as Gunnar mimics my movements, but then hops back up. “Gotta go drain the snake. Be back.”

Unsurprisingly, Gunnar never returns from the bathroom after the toilet flushes. About fifteen minutes later, the bed, in what I’m assuming is Nova’s room, starts to rattle a low clank, clank, clank against the wall. A chuckle slips out. Guess I know what they’re doing.

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