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he said. "Those bastards you take orders from would never let you decide anything. Especially not your own nature."

"Like you're any different. You can't stand the idea of me taking control of my own body." The words were barely out of Stacy's mouth before her heart started to sink. No, he wouldn't. An alpha like Vonn wouldn't leave anything to chance. "You…you were waiting for me out here, weren't you?"

She already knew the answer. Stacy wasn't surprised that he'd been able to conceal himself so easily. She couldn't see ten yards into the woods. Hell, he could have been right around the corner, and she wouldn't have known.

And he'd let her think she was alone. Right up until she'd pulled out the injection pen…and then he'd materialized out of nowhere.

God, she'd been an idiot. If she was one of her own trainees, she'd flunk herself. It didn't take a whole lot of gray matter to figure out that once she got her hands on her backpack, she'd go straight for the item that was the most important to her.

She might as well have wrapped it up with a shiny ribbon and left it under his pillow.

Vonn had put the bag somewhere she was sure to find it, somewhere out in the open so he could keep a close eye on it.

But to do that, he would first need to know she would break free from her bonds.

Damn it to hell, that sloppy loop in the knot hadn't been a mistake but a trap. The same went for the pocket knife in the only drawer she could reach.

Vonn was no brainless brute. He'd been outsmarting her all along, laying schemes that played into her sense of superiority, her inflated pride.

All the confidence that had returned since she freed herself crumbled to dust. Vonn had laid a laughably simple trap for her, and she'd fallen for it like a greenhorn.

"You son of a bitch," she gasped, her face hot with embarrassment and fury. "You tricked me."

Vonn only smirked at her. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

Yeah…it did. But Stacy could think of one thing that would suck even more—at least for him.

And that was a good hard knee to the balls.

Chapter Ten

Blinding white fury obliterated every thought from Vonn's mind as he clutched his most vulnerable flesh and staggered backward.

For a moment, his vision turned into a kaleidoscope of shattered glass. It was as if the pain had reached all the way to his eyeballs, but as it slowly receded, he found himself looking at a warrior who still didn't have any quit in her.

You'd think landing a solid kick square to an alpha's unprotected balls would be enough of a trophy. As far as Vonn knew, the only time an alpha had ever suffered such an injury, it was from another alpha—and a twisted one at that.

The blow had shocked him enough to release his hold on her. Stacy stood crouched and ready a few feet away, pack already slung over one shoulder.

Hell, if he didn't get it together fast, she might pull out a saw to take his dick off next.

Vonn let out his frustration in a bellow that echoed off the granite face and down into the valley. It was better than vomiting, though he still might if the pain didn't subside soon.

He locked eyes with Stacy, realizing belatedly that he had no idea what his next move was. There was no reason for her to still be standing here; any other beta would have headed into the woods, or maybe for his truck. Betas were no different from any prey animal, and their instincts prioritized escape.

Except Stacy wasn't a beta.

No matter what that blasted injection had done to her, blunting and muting her wonderful scent until he could barely detect it under its cloak of chemical armor, she was still an omega. Her instincts, her priorities, had been fundamentally different from other girls' since birth—which was probably the only reason she'd been able to endure the abuse dished out by her fellow soldiers and superiors in the Army. Deep down, she knew—and had always known—she was different, even if she never acknowledged it, even to herself.

Ignoring the inferno of agony in his balls, Vonn let out a growl and launched himself toward her. But even dormant, her instincts got the better of him yet again, and just as she had in the roadhouse backlot, she dodged his charge before he could connect.

He crashed into the side of the cabin at full speed, and it would have undoubtedly splintered if he hadn't used four-inch lumber in building his house instead of the weak-ass beta construction standard. The wood groaned and cracked, probably leaving his ribs with a hell of a bruise, but it withstood his weight.

He recovered from the impact and turned around just in time to see Stacy heading toward the trees. She was seizing the moment to escape. Anger propelled Vonn forward like a comet—but he skidded to a stop a few feet away.

Every instinct in him urged him to tackle her to the ground. But so far, all that had gotten him was injured and humiliated. Every time he'd used that blunt approach, he'd ended up with empty arms.

Stacy's fighting style, the one she'd honed over years of sparring with bigger, heavier men, was perfectly suited for an alpha's brute force attack. Other than her little knee-to-the-balls move, she hadn't dealt him a single blow, focusing on evasion and leverage.

And in doing so, she had managed to make Vonn into his own opponent. He had no doubt that if he tried to take her down by force, all he'd get was a face-full of dirt.

So instead, he swooped in front of her, leaving a protective buffer of space between them. "Give me the pack," he commanded.

Stacy barely bothered to shake her head. He might be frustrated, but she seemed calm and composed. It occurred to Vonn that, in contrast to the handful of drunken fistfights he'd gotten into

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