Page 42 of Tying the Knot
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Morgan
“Ahhh! What the fuck!”I roar as my door is literally kicked in and Captain Kaleb comes storming into the room.
I sit up in my nest, covered in slick and sweat, but he doesn’t seem to notice. All he is bothered about, is looking everywhere around the room except at me.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
His blue gaze lands on me, and then he stops his frantic search for about two seconds before he turns and is practically run over by a gang of alphas who look decidedly like they are out for trouble.
“Eep!” I shriek and pull my blue blanket up over me to cover my body.
Six strange alphas in my room, while I’m in heat, isnotgood.
“What is going on?” I yell as Dylan comes storming in, swinging a carrier bag and clunking someone who was attacking Kaleb over the head with it.
“Are you okay?” he shouts above the noise of a full-on fight. He punches another of the thugs in the face.
I gasp and rear back, getting to my feet but keeping the blanket held up to cover my practically naked body.
Kaleb kicks another in the gut, and he comes tumbling over the bedinto my nest.
It ignites my fury like nothing else on this earth. Without even a second thought, I kick him in the head with my bare foot.
“Get out of my nest, you fucking arsehole!”
“Here!” Dylan throws me the carrier bag. I catch it, dropping the blanket and when the nest desecrator groans and tries to get up, I whack him over the head with a rather big knotty vibrator that knocks him back and onto the floor.
“Nice!” Dylan calls and then gets a fist to his face, which busts his nose.
Elijah and Nik suddenly join the party, and the odds change. I stand back, prepared to defend my nest against all of them if they come one step closer. The task force team are skilled fighters who soon have control of the other alphas.
That is until my world stands still.
Distracted, I didn’t notice that the man I whacked with my knotty weapon has gotten to his feet and pulled out a knife. He grabs me from the side and drags me off the bed.
I kick and scream, my bare legs going wild and riding up the tee that is leaving nothing to the imagination right now. He places the cold knife blade to my throat, and I freeze.
“Give us the box,” he growls.
“What box?” I whimper, gripping his arm tightly as if I could pull it away and save myself. I’m weak, and the worst of the heat that Dylan eased is coming back tenfold. I expected a bit longer, but now that everyone seems to be in here, struggling and sweating, their scents filling my nasal passages. My brain slows down to the point of a complete stop. Everything starts to move in slow motion.
Elijah smashes the face of one of the thugs before he realises I’m caught.
Kaleb kicks one in the ribs while he’s down before Elijah lunges at him to stop. Dylan, mid-punch, drops his fist, and they all turn to look at me.
“That’s better,” the one who has me growls. I realise that he is a beta, not an alpha, which is good news in my current situation. Ifgoodis the word I could use. His voice sounds like it’s coming from a million miles away through a dense, dark fog.
Suddenly, everything makes sense. I know why I started my heat early, and it has fuck all to do with the trauma of the last week.
I was crammed into the kitchen with the St. Clair pack in their home, and my omega side reacted to the alphas in a way that only a mate can.
Their collective closeness threw my body in heat, and now it’s happening again.
“The box,” my captor snarls in my ear.
“What box?” I croak.
