Page 61 of Knot What She Seems
He smirks. “My wife would cut my balls into tiny pieces if I danced with someone other than her.” A certain fondness curls up his lips. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen the strict instructor smile before—at least, a smile devoid of any malicious humor or intent.
“She didn’t come tonight?”
“Nah.” Jameson shakes his head. “Chose to stay home with the kids. I, unfortunately, wasn’t given that luxury.” He rolls his eyes, drains the rest of his drink, and then places the empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. “These events require at least a dozen instructors between the two schools to ensure everything goes off without a hitch. And make sure no alphas get any…ideas.” A familiar darkness descends over his features. “Some of them can get a little overwhelmed with all of these omegas present, and that makes them act stupid.”
Something thunderous explodes in my chest. “They hurt the omegas?”
“In the past, there have been…incidents,” Jameson admits. “Which is why we’re required to attend.”
I may not intend to take an omega as my own, but that doesn’t mean I tolerate any harm against them. I saw that way too often during my stint in the military on the front lines—powerful alphas believing they can take what they want, regardless of the consequences.
Jameson continues on, oblivious to the tempest brewing in my head. “But just because we’re on duty doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun. You, especially, should go out there. Enjoy yourself. Find an omega or two to dance with.”
“I’ll pass,” I say, frowning, my gaze scanning the room once more.
Jameson snorts, pats me on the shoulder, and then takes off with a flippant, “Suit yourself.”
I’m pretty sure the majority of alphas don’t understand my team’s aversion to taking an omega for ourselves. They don’t understand the darkness that lingers inside of us, potent and suffocating, a malignant tumor in danger of spreading.
Besides, we have a job to do, and as soon as it’s completed, we’ll be out of here.
The thought strengthens my resolve.
Yes, I’ll be out of here in no time. First, I just need to?—
The headmaster slips out of the ballroom, the elderly female teacher a few steps behind him.
Immediately, I begin to weave through the dancers, trying my damnedest not to breathe too deeply. The air is permeated with the scent of sugar cookies, bread, and vanilla. With over one hundred omegas present, it’s very nearly overwhelming. I can see why some of the…less evolved alphas could lose their heads.
Without being seen, I duck out the same door the headmaster took. Then, I veer to the right, where I hear low noises.
What the fuck?
What are you up to, fucker?
I quicken my pace and poke my head around the corner…
Only to immediately want to bleach my eyes and cut off my ears.
The headmaster has the omega instructor pinned to the wall, her dress pooled around her waist as she rides on his cock.
“Ellora! Yes, baby. Yes, just like that.”
“Oh, Graves.”
Fuck no. No. No. No.
I turn away as quickly—and as silently—as I can, hurrying back the way I came from. I’m pretty sure nothing short of eye amputation will save me now. Maybe I just need to remove my entire brain.
I debate, briefly, whether or not to take a picture for my contact before deciding against it. She wants proof Headmaster Graves is a traitor. Him fucking an elderly instructor only proves that he’s horny and in need of release.
Ugh.
I want to vomit now.
I slip back into the ballroom and search for my team. They’re supposed to be keeping an eye on a few key players, but I don’t see any of them as of yet. Where the fuck are they?
A high-pitched, discordant note screams like an alarm bell in my head.
