Poison Ivy Ch. 04

Her awareness came back slowly, little electric impulses dancing across her skin bringing her attention to the sweat moistening her brow and the Alpha lifting her off the cold table to carry her across the too-large room. Settling himself against the supple leather of that distinctly masculine chair where this whole sordid affair began, he arranged them both comfortably to wait out the time it would take for his thick knot abate. She squirmed in his arms when he started purring, her mind grasping desperately at the last of her sanity before she dropped into the pleasant oblivion that usually came after he'd fucked her, when arms rippling with muscles wrapped around her and pressed her into a sound she was biologically designed to be comforted by.

"You can't keep doing that every time I have questions," she told him, her words laced with lazy contempt. "I'm not a child, I'm not an..." she drifted off, frowning. Omega. She was about to say she wasn't an Omega. But that's exactly what she was now, wasn't it? He was treating her the way the rest of the world treated Omegas, like glorified fuck-dolls needing the protection of their Alphas against the outside world.

Her eyelids drooped as she tried to focus. His fingers trilled over the marks he'd left, like some morbid souvenir of her first estrous, still swollen and angry red at the curve of her neck. His claiming marks. His touch was light, gentle even, and through the pair-bond, she felt his pride and tranquility at having made such a successful conquest of her. She knew how this would play out. He would hold her here, cradling her head against the rough fabric of his uniform, locking her to him with the bulge hooked behind her pelvic bone, until she fell asleep. Then she would wake, hours later, to the quiet sounds of one of her two silent Beta guards stepping into her room, or maybe from one of the many recurring nightmares that plagued her sleep, although she could never remember exactly what they'd been about. The Alpha would be gone, she would find herself washed and stripped naked between silken sheets, another chance to pry information from his stupidly gorgeous lips lost to this strange, mind-numbing post-sex hypnosis.

"You're being difficult." His tone was gruff, accusatory.

"And you're being fucking impossible," she growled back. "Why did you even want me?"

He was silent for a moment, even the soft rumble of his purr falling away as confusion and slight alarm thrummed unpleasantly from his side of the bond. "Explain." It was an order, and it bothered her to no end that he thought he could give her fucking commands, but at least he had stopped petting and purring and was actually talking to her.

"I mean, it's obvious you don't want anything to do with me besides sex. You don't talk to me, you fuck me and then leave as soon as you purr me to sleep, you keep me trapped in this room like I'm your prisoner but I can't even have the satisfaction of plotting to kill you because this stupid fucking pair-bond you forced on me gives me a fucking migraine every time I consider it. You don't seem to give two shits about the fact that I just lost my best friend in the worst possible way and have no way of confronting the man responsible for ruining his mind. It's like I'm just a sperm receptacle to you. Aren't there plenty of beautiful women who would love to climb up on your Alpha dick? Even if you thought you recognized some weird matching scent on me, why wouldn't you wait to claim me to find out whether or not you even liked me?"

Her ears hurt from the quiet that settled over the room like a thick blanket of snow after she'd finished her rant. His chest heaved and the hand cradling her head clenched halfway into a fist, fingers threaded through her hair tightening until a shock of pain at her scalp stilled her distressed movements. She realized she had crossed some sort of line, broken some invisible barrier. Equal parts apprehension and relief warred for supremacy. These feelings had been building up for days. Every word had needed to be said, and breathing life into her insecurities was... liberating.

"This is what you think? You truly feel I have no interest in you outside of sex?"

She nodded against his chest, moving her head as much as he allowed, which wasn't really much. It would have infuriated her when she had first been taken by the brute, but she was well used to the physical dominance he continually found opportunities to demonstrate. She thought he was going to say something further, but the familiar wall of silence fell between them once again, interrupted shortly after by the resumption of his purr.

Disappointment wrapped a cold hand around her throat. She hadn't expected reassurances or false promises, but for just a moment, she'd thought he might have made an attempt to be honest with her, to treat her like an actual person who deserved to have her thoughts and feelings acknowledged.

Soon, the rhythmic stroking of his fingers through her hair and the steady cadence of his rumbled comfort had her eyes drooping. Just as she was drifting off into sleep, he spoke again.

"Another Omega is scheduled to arrive within the week. I have arranged for her to have the adjoining room. You will have her company during the hours I need to be away."

She rolled her eyes. "Great," she sighed. "A new, handpicked friend. How thoughtful."

"She is pregnant."

Ivy paused. "What did you just say?" Did he really just say pregnant? Why would they be sending a pregnant Omega into a hostile country? Omega children were sacred, on par with tiny baby deities. Something had shifted, changed in the last decade. No one knew why, but Beta women had become unable to mother Omegas, even when mated to an Alpha. She'd read about different theories, including some genetic mutation that caused an incompatibility on the cellular level. A spike in miscarriages was thought to be the result of this mutation. As dynamics did not present themselves until adolescence, this theory was unable to be verified, but it was thought that, while Beta women were able to conceive Omega fetuses, they were unable to bring those pregnancies to term.

Omegas, on the other hand, almost always bred more Omegas, at least when mated with an Alpha, and not every female was even able to become pregnant. With the dwindling numbers of the rarest Dynamic, children of Omegas, and by proxy, pregnant Omegas themselves, had the protection of nearly every Alpha male in Lostra. The girl would be treated like a fragile, porcelain doll.

So why the fuck was she coming here?

"Her Alpha will be the new Commanding Officer here in Torrin. He was... Unwilling to part with her during the remainder of her pregnancy. This will be good for you. You need to socialize with others of your dynamic. She will be able to answer many questions I cannot. Consider this an opportunity." His soothing fingers massaged the back of her neck in comforting circles.

Ivy wasn't stupid. He was securing her a friendship. And to be honest, the thought of someone to pass time with other than the lumbering oaf who had the shameful ability to turn her into a useless ball of writhing sex-mush, wasn't an entirely unpleasant one. But that didn't mean he could just dictate who she socialized with.

"What if I don't like her?" she asked stubbornly.

"You haven't exactly been an excellent judge of character as of late," he said darkly.

He may as well have backhanded her. She sucked in a breath and reared back, wincing with the effort to free herself from the knot that had not yet abated quite enough for a comfortable decoupling. Anger, she found, could be quite the effective painkiller.

"You're not wrong, but you're a dick for saying it," she seethed. She squirmed the rest of the way off his lap and stormed toward the washroom that must have taken half a granite quarry to construct.

"Ivy," he called after her. She could hear the regret in his voice, and it was a new, strangely humanizing sound. It didn't matter. The damage was done.

The worst part was, he was right. She had been blind, and oh so fucking stupid, and Kentucky had played her for the fool she was. How had she not seen it? Had she always been such a dumb bitch? His words, still sharp as knives, echoed amongst the chaos of her despairing thoughts. She mourned the Kentucky she had known, and was ashamed it had taken getting hit over the head with a proverbial shovel before she saw him for what he truly was.

Had she been so desperate to have someone besides her uncle actually care for her? She was an orphan, and let's be honest... Her father had never really been the warm and fuzzy type when he had been alive.

And there it was, in a nutshell. Ivy had so desperately wanted the impossible, for someone to like her despite all of her flaws and the trainwreck she typically was, that she had blindly trusted the first person to treat her as more than just a stuck-up bitch who could never measure up to the real Beta male soldiers. She clearly remembered the first time her supervisor took her off a job, and told her she'd never be as good as her male counterparts.

It's not really your fault, he'd said. Females just aren't meant to stand up to the heat of battle.

Little did that prick know, not only could she stand the heat just fine, she was the motherfucking fire. She'd spent the next five years proving how wrong he'd been.

Kentucky had never treated her like that. He had never treated her like less. And like a dumb bitch, she had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker.

"I'm sorry," Hunter's gruff voice called out to her from across the marbled floor.

"For what?" she called back over her shoulder, not giving him a chance to answer before the washroom door fell closed behind her.

"You were right," she whispered sadly, to no one at all.

......................................................

Hours later, Hunter sat in a comfortable, tall back cherrywood chair situated adjacent to the wide canopied bed where his Omega slept. He had commissioned the piece of furniture just for this purpose, so he could spend what free time he allotted himself watching over her while she slept. Her dark chocolate hair, streaked with hints of gold, fanned out over the white satin pillow beneath her head. Deep in slumber, her normal intensity relaxed and smoothed out, and she seemed to find peace between the nightmares that regularly plagued her sleep.

She was remembering. Being around the other Alphas, being around him... It was bringing to the surface things she wouldn't yet acknowledge in her conscious mind.

He smoothed stray strands of hair across her forehead and tucked them behind her ear. She made a soft cooing sound and leaned into his touch. It was a gesture of the affection she refused to let herself feel for him while awake, and it crushed him as much as it pleased him.

The moment he had recognized her scent in that dingy little medical tent, the one that matched his own so completely, he'd been lost. He'd gone to Chid expecting to collect a lost Omega. What he'd found in Ivy was... Unexpected. She was astonishing. Perfect. And unquestionably his, undeniably meant for him and him alone.

There had never been a second of doubt, not a single moment of regret. Despite what she thought of herself, how she saw her strength and drive as flaws that pushed others away, he had known she belonged to him from the start. He'd fallen in love with her the moment he'd watched her fight the Torrin Alphas in the clearing of Chid forest.

She had played them like a fiddle, working the angle of damsel in distress so expertly that they hadn't for a second been prepared for what she had done. He'd been about to step in to dispatch the fuck who'd wrestled his dick from his pants when she'd brought her side arm up and shot him, quite unexpectedly, directly in the groin, blasting the ugly asshole's cock to bloody bits.

Hunter had been as stunned as they were. He found himself biting back a barking laugh at the sickly-sweet smile she had flashed the injured man before making her escape. Following close behind the Alphas chasing her, something about the situation playing out in front of him made him hold back for just a moment. The idiots had left their weapons back where they'd been prepared to wait their turn. She'd never been in any danger. Their clumsy pursuit, their obviously limited skill, and the fact that they apparently thought it took four Alphas to overcome one little Omega spoke volumes about their ability to defend themselves against his unseen presence. So he had stopped himself from interfering. Just long enough to watch as they boxed her in.

Her face had been a painted canvas of her thoughts and emotions. He could see her trying to work out her options. He saw the brief flash of despair when she realized how hopeless her situation was, and he'd taken a step forward. Then, to his utter disbelief, the look had given way to grim determination, and that was when it'd been time to intervene. Because he knew without a doubt what would have happened next.

Ivy would rather have died than become their prisoner. And she was going to take a couple of broken noses with her, if she could.

The pair-bond pulls forth positive feelings for the bonded mate, and they are undeniably intense. But when he'd found her in that clearing, strong and proud and brave, and then witnessed that brief flash of vulnerability, he had not yet claimed her. And yet, he'd still felt it, that brilliant, terrifying moment when a heart first realizes it no longer beats for just one body.

She was frustrated and lonely. She didn't understand that keeping her here, with limited information and virtually no freedom, was the only way to keep her safe for the time being. Things would change soon. When the new General arrived, they would throw the celebratory dinner they had planned when she had first been brought here from Chid Forward Operating Base. Hunter and Ivy would be presented as newly pair-bonded mates, and General Maverick, Nelson's incoming replacement, and his pregnant Omega, Aella, would be introduced to the rest of the officer ranks. If she would just be patient for a little longer...

He sat straighter and looked around at the room that had been procured for her before they had even confirmed her Dynamic and placement. It had all the trappings of comfort, and it frustrated him that she seemed unable to settle. He wished she could find enjoyment in the priceless first-edition books he'd supplied when he learned she preferred more classical titles, or pleasure in the music and films he ensured she had access to.

She would be more comfortable when they returned home, with the sprawling hills of his estate providing the freedom to roam, and the endless opportunities for socialization and leisure activities he couldn't currently provide. She didn't belong here. Neither of them did.

Her skills as a field medic he had witnessed in the Torrin ambush had been unparalleled, if infuriatingly self-sacrificing. The medics she led had no fucking clue what kind of leader they'd had in her, what sort of action his little spitfire was capable of. She threw herself as far into the flames as she could in order to pull lost souls out.

Is that what she had done for him? She had come into his life, by miracle or by design, and had saved him from turning into a man he soon would not have readily recognized. The alluring edge of darkness that seemed to always draw him in had come so close to dragging him under, drowning him in anesthetized indifference. And then she had jumped out from literally nowhere, ready to make him fight, to make himself worthy, if not of her love and affection, then of the privilege to love her, to care for her.

And she thought he didn't even like her? The idea was... Unfathomable.

The problem was, she lacked a general sense of purpose. Omegas taken from their families during adolescence had time to adjust, time to accept their dynamic and everything it meant. The sooner she accepted the reality of her new life, the happier she would be. He hoped things would change when Aella arrived. As it stood, he regrettably lacked the time and resources to ensure her successful transition from a Beta field medic to his pair-bonded Omega.

She had mentioned several times her desire for what she had aptly named her, "don't-fuck-with-me-I-have-work-to-do" clothes. He could be reasonable.

Standing abruptly, he chanced one last look back at the precious creature curled up beneath the covers, and strode out of Alpha Barracks and across the way to supply and sequestering. If a different wardrobe could help convince her of how wrong she was, well... It was a small price to pay.

..............................

Ivy's forefinger and thumb closed around the skin of the opposite shoulder, and she winced as pain receptors responded to the pinch and made short work of assuring her brain that she was, indeed, awake. While she'd slept, a miracle had happened. A tall metal garment rack sat at the entrance of the oversized dressing room, so as not to be missed, filled with a completely different wardrobe than the one she'd originally been given. Half were clothes she recognized; well-loved and well-worn outfits obviously taken from the modest apartment she had shared with two other roommates back in Lostra. Her old, faded t-shirts, pressed and hung in clear plastic bags like expensive designer pieces, along with similarly treated ripped jeans and cargo pants, made up an entire half of the wardrobe rack. Even her favorite pair of baggy sweatpants was there, hanging regally in a place of honor, between the old and the new, as if he knew it was the ultimate representation of comfort and familiarity.

The new clothes still carried brand names that she would have never been able to afford, but they were worlds apart from the skimpy wardrobe adorning the shelves and racks of the wide room beyond. Comfortable jeans, new t-shirts with the logos of her favorite rock bands on the front, workout pants that didn't cling like a second skin all fought for her immediate attention. And, to top it all off, her worn pair of steel-toed boots accentuated with fraying shoe laces sat surrounded by new sneakers and running shoes on one side, and cozy-looking slippers and surfer sandals on the other.

It was clearly a peace offering. Did that mean he was going to start lightening up, start giving her a little bit of fucking slack? The hope that bubbled up at the sight of the clothes was dangerous. It threatened crushing disappointment, and she wasn't sure it was wise to take anything as a sign that Sir Alpha was chilling out. Still...

Even she could appreciate the sentiment.

She felt a wide grin spread across her face, perhaps for the first time since she'd gotten here. Better yet, they were the perfect clothes to go wreak some havoc in.

Ten minutes later, she stood behind the massive door leading to the hallway in torn jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. The tray he had knocked to the ground, along with the shattered china, had been cleared away and a new tray had been left in its place, one that she now clutched tightly in both hands. The Beta medic-slash-guard had the uncanny ability to sense when she was awake. Any minute now, he'd be unbolting the several locks the giant bully thought was necessary to contain her.

He had no fucking idea how many it would truly take.

She was about to make escape attempt #3. Nevermind the fact that the last two had ended in absolute disaster. She wasn't going to try anything too stupid this time. She just wanted to explore the base a little. To see for herself what the aftermath of the invasion had been.