Page 55 of Talk About… Trouble

He huffed out a laugh. “While that is true. It’s not what’s got you chewing that lip to hell, is it, omega? Talk to your alpha.”

Fuck, the way he talked had my entire body ready to submit. Hell, I’d present for him right here in the pasture.

“No,” I admitted, chewing on my bottom lip again.

“Stop,” he warned. “Don’t make me spank that ass to get you out of your head. I have a feeling you get lost in there a lot and deflect with all this sass.”

Damn, he had me figured out already. We’d get nothing past this alpha.

“I’m not against spanking,” I admitted, not even bothering to flirt this time. He raised a brow and nodded.

“Noted. Now talk.”

When I couldn't make myself get the words out, he put the ax in my hand. I genuinely laughed as it dragged my arm down.

“I don’t have your muscles, alpha,” I pointed out.

“You’ll build them,” he said without backing down. He put a piece of wood on the large stump and walked around behind me. With his larger body engulfing mine, I found it even harder to talk. He guided me in a swing, not doing it for me but making sure I knew how to do it.

He stepped out of range of the ax and gestured for me to go.

“Chop until you can talk,” he said. I knew instinctively he wasn’t going to force me to do it, which was what really made me give it a go.

The first swing missed and embarrassment flooded me, but he simply set it up again and said nothing, his face as impassive as ever.

“Again.”

The second time I managed to hit it head on, but it simply lodged in the top and wouldn’t let go.

Shepherd fixed it again, gesturing for me to try another swing.

This time it split halfway. This beast of a man picked up the half-split log and tore it in two, tossing it in the pile and selecting another. The next was a bit smaller and I swung again, splitting it.

“Again.”

I was starting to hate that word.

Yet, with each swing and split log, my mind settled. My arms shook and sweat had my shirt clinging to my skin, but it felt powerful, incredible.

“You ready to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I hate that I’m not working like everyone else,” I said before I realised I even spoke, the ax hitting the wood and splitting it.

Now that I started, I couldn’t seem to stop.

“I’m sure you’ll say something like ‘your worth isn’t tied to working’ but how is it not? This pack will start to resent me if I am staying at home all day while they work hard.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but I kept going so he simply put another log up for me.

“I’m not the ‘stay home and cook’ type. Honestly, no one wants me to try cooking, I’m terrible. As my family always said, I’m not even a good omega.”

“Ah, there it is,” he hummed, putting another log up.

“Yeah, when I wasn’t a beta, and my first hormone meltdown hit, that was enough for them. This designation was like a personal attack on them and they hated me. I was bullied until the day I fucking left because of something I couldn’t change. But sure, let’s make our child’s life miserable until he hates himself.”

“Do you hate yourself?” Still no judgment, only calm curiosity.

“No, I don’t,” I said as I let the ax fall to the ground. My arms were shaking harder now, my mind oddly detached. “I’m smarter and stronger than they realized. I’m funny and loving, and I have a lot to offer.”

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