Vonn: The Boundarylands Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance by Callie Rhodes (ready to read books TXT) 📕

for. Her companions were full of stories about nights when the prostitutes paid their visits and the sounds they heard coming from the woods…all of which she'd just as soon forget.

"I don't need any fucking aspirin."

The alpha's words were accompanied by a deep rumble resonating from his chest. It wasn't quite a purr…nor was it a growl. Whatever it was meant to convey, Stacy didn't know how to react, especially since it made something shift inside her, a strange momentary unmooring.

That was new.

She prayed the tingly, unsettling sensation didn't mean the suppressant was wearing off more quickly than expected.

"Then what do you want?” Stacy did her best to sound indifferent. The last thing in the world she wanted was to let this beast think he had her worried.

"I want to know why you smell like ambrosia."

O...kay. That was definitely not what she expected to hear. She had bathed earlier that afternoon in the primitive camp shower, but the soap she'd brought was scented with lavender, not the food of the gods.

"Sorry, I don't know what you mean."

"Who are you?" the alpha repeated.

"I told you," Stacy said. "I'm here to trade medical supplies."

"Bullshit." The alpha's jaw was tight, his eyes narrowed to slits.

Stacy had no idea what she'd done to provoke him, but she had to shut this down before he asked any more probing questions. Though she couldn't see him, she was sure her fellow smuggler was nearby in the darkness, listening with great interest.

"Buddy, I don't know what your deal is, but—"

"Buddy?" There was a definite edge to the alpha's voice. Too late, Stacy realized how far over the line she'd stepped. Even the most sheltered beta knew not to speak like that. More than that, there wasn't a beta trader alive who would dare show one of these beasts an iota of disrespect.

"I'm sorry," she said hastily. "I forgot myself. I—I just don't appreciate you swearing at me."

The alpha gave no reaction other than a faint twitch in his jaw as he studied her even more intently. It took everything Stacy had not to quiver with fear in the face of his predatory stare.

"I am not your 'buddy,'" he finally said, his voice dripping with disdain. "I am your alpha."

Stacy recoiled in shock. Oh God, the suppressants really were wearing off.

No. She forced herself to think rationally. Even across the firepit, she could smell the bourbon on his breath. He was drunk.

Drunk, and impulsive, and not exactly Honor Roll material.

As long as she kept her cool, she'd be fine. Fulmer had said the dose lasted seven days in the lab, and this was only day six.

Then again, these weren't laboratory conditions. This was the real world. And this was a real alpha just inches away, staring at her like she was a tasty morsel, and he was the big, bad wolf, already starting to lunge across the campfire.

Oh, hell no.

Stacy's years of practice kicked in, and her body took over where her mind had gotten stuck.

Even drunk, the alpha moved faster than any trainee who'd ever crossed her mat—but Stacy had trained with the best. She pivoted as the alpha crashed over the fire pit and grabbed for her. All he caught was air.

The alpha recovered so nimbly that she had to rethink just how drunk he was.

"What was that?" he demanded, not so much annoyed as genuinely surprised and curious.

"That was me avoiding you." It was the only thing that came to her mind. "It can't be the first time someone tried to get out of your way."

He gave a faint, dark smile. "It's the first time a woman has ever wanted to."

There it was again, stronger than ever, the sensation of losing her balance and reason all at once—and this time it lingered.

"I guess I'm not like the girls you're used to," she stammered, immediately regretting her words.

"You have no idea…but you're about to."

Now Stacy felt the rumble inside her, as though she was a harp, and he was somehow stroking her strings. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, which suddenly felt dry. She stood frozen as the alpha took a step closer, holding out his hand.

"Give me your hand."

Shit. Stacy knew that she couldn't refuse. There would be no fighting her way out of this situation. She had made one mistake after another, risking not just her cover but…well, she didn't want to imagine what else. And none of her fellow smugglers, no matter how much they might like her, would dream of coming to her aid.

This was an alpha, after all.

Stacy said a silent prayer that Fulmer's data was correct and slipped her hand into his.

Then…nothing.

No rush of blood. No surge of hormones. No overwhelming need.

Stacy exhaled audibly. She had never felt such a profound sense of relief in her life.

The alpha looked from their joined hands up to her face, frowning in consternation. So he, too, had felt nothing.

And from the look on his face, he had certainly been expecting something.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded, loud enough for everyone in the camp to hear.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stacy said, but she couldn't meet his eyes. Instead of releasing her hand, the alpha gripped it tighter—and while her body still didn't react, she felt something else. A sort of letdown—an inexplicable sense of disappointment.

Which was absurd.

"You're a liar," the alpha growled. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

And she did, almost involuntarily, as if some strange force drew her gaze to his. He was watching her with such fierce concentration that Stacy almost feared that he could see right through her.

"You know what you are, don't you?"

She shivered, but not from the night air. "Of course I do. I'm a medical supply trader, just like I told you. Why else would I be here?"

He pulled her toward him, and she stumbled a little to keep from falling. Their faces were inches apart when he spoke again.

"I don't know. But you can be damn sure that