Page 30 of Knot What She Seems
“We also thought it would be a good idea tostalksome of our more troublesome students,” he says with a cold grin. All the warmth leaves me at once.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Jameson rolls his eyes but continues the lesson. But the alphas… They don’t leave. Oh no. That would be too easy. Instead, they all sit in the row directly behind me. I can’t see them all, not with my eyes ensnared by the angel and the other three bathed in shadows, but I know they’re watching me.
Glaring at me.
The blond angel leans in even closer, and my breath hitches, another warm wave washing over me despite everything.
“Remember that bet?” His silky voice shouldn’t cause my hands to turn clammy or my pussy to clench with need. Fucking dammit. It’s the whole “mating” thing. My body is predisposed to be hornier than usual around them. Even though I don’t want them whatsoever, I’m wet as hell. I really, really hate being an omega.
I hate that my body is betraying me.
I hate that my heart can’t seem to get with the program my brain laid out, warning me to stay the hell away.
I hate that I have no control of myself or my instinctive reaction to their presence.
Then his words register.
I don’t dare speak, not trusting my voice, but he continues as if I had.
“I put all my money on you, little princeling.” He squeezes my shoulder once more—hard enough to break a damn bone—and then releases me, settling back in his seat. “I’m looking forward to the next class.” A wicked grin curls up his lips.
What the fuck did I do?
One thing becomes abundantly clear—I never should’ve gone to my mom. Instead of solving my problem, she created an even bigger one. And now Alpha Team X knows I tried to get them fired.
Sorry, Ted. I’m pretty sure I’m going to die today. Adios.
You’ll be fine,my inner voice reassures me.What’s the worst they can do?
Famous last words.
11
BRYLEE
Graba dunce cap and throw it on top of my head right this second because I’m an idiot. Why did I think that an ankle brace would make a difference?
Maybe it would have if Self-Defense wasn’t taught by Alpha Team X. Maybe it would have if my mother hadn’t informed that group that I tried to get them ousted. But…as it stands, the brace is nothing more than a hindrance, something to make me nearly trip as I try to block punches from an alpha that the professors deliberately paired me up with in their fury. A student who’s got five inches and at least eighty pounds on me that I’m supposed to defend myself against.
We’re in a giant gymnasium plastered with blue exercise mats that are supposed to soften our falls. But, if you ask me, those stupid mats start to feel like concrete after you’ve fallen on them 1.86 billion times.
A grunt erupts from my lips as Antonio lands another hit, this one in my solar plexus. If I weren’t wearing the bodysuit, that single hit alone would have taken me to the ground. As it is, even with the cushion, the air squeezes from my lungs and dark sparkles hover along the edges of my vision.
“Come on, Princeling! You aren’t even trying,” Alpha Luka snarls from beside me. With his close-cropped beard, brown hair, and guy-next-door features, he’s the least intimidating looking member of the Alpha Team X. But looks, apparently, are deceiving.
Luka has been in my face since the first-years were paired up for sparring. His clipped words have hammered me with critiques since the very first hit I took. And I’ve taken quite a few over the past hour.
“I am trying. You aren’t teaching,” I spit back, because it’s the truth. Other than vague generalities like “arms up,” he’s deliberately avoided giving me guidance. He’s punishing me, and it’s incredibly obvious.
“Can’t help if you’re too stupid to learn,” he retorts in a low, threatening tone. By the look in his eyes, if we were on the street instead of in this classroom, he’d be punching me himself instead of letting a lackey do it for him.
Mom really should have fired them.
