Vonn: The Boundarylands Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance Callie Rhodes (android e book reader txt) 📖

wasn't enough to diminish the determination from her eyes, and Vonn changed his mind about her being a fighter. Clearly, she was a warrior—and she was nowhere near surrender.

Vonn grinned, ignoring the blood dripping down his chin. This slight, unarmed woman had done more damage in a fight with an alpha than any outsider who'd ever come onto this land.

"You're pretty damn impressive; I'll give you that," he said. "But you have to know you can't win."

She raised her chin defiantly. "I seem to be doing okay so far."

Vonn snorted and pointed toward the patio, where nearly a dozen alphas and a handful of smugglers had emerged from the roadhouse to watch her little show. "So far," he conceded. "But now you've got an audience, and if I know my brothers, they're already lining up behind me for their turn in the ring."

Vonn watched her go rigid as she realized how many in that crowd were capable of ripping her in half. She might have stood strong against a single alpha—at least briefly and with surprise on her side—but she was outnumbered and outmatched.

Vonn felt a twinge of emotion—pity? mercy?—as she seemed to shrink, muttering a curse that would make most betas' ears curl.

"What the hell is going on?" Of course, it had to be Gray who pushed his way to the front and shot him a furious look. "Vonn?—what the fuck?"

Vonn didn't give a shit whether or not the bastard meant well. After being tossed to the ground by someone a fraction of his size, Vonn needed an outlet for his frustration, and this self-righteous son of a bitch was as good a target as any.

"I don't know, Gray. You tell me." Vonn pulled himself up to full height to remind the older alpha that he had a few inches on him. "You let this 'trader' come through your property? You cleared her for entry?"

Gray folded his arms and glared. "You know I did."

"Then how about explaining what the fuck you were thinking letting a goddamn soldier into the Boundarylands."

Chapter Five

Stacy's first reaction to the alpha's shocking accusation—shocking because there should have been no way for him to guess the truth—was to deny it. After all, he had no proof. Well, nothing other than her ineffective trading skills, nimble feet, and stupid bravery—none of which were proof positive of her military career.

For all he knew, she'd merely spent way too much time working out at the local martial arts studio instead of working on her sales pitch. Or she could have picked up her street fighting skills in prison, considering that half the smugglers she'd traveled with had spent time locked up.

But no, Vonn seemed completely sure of himself—and now his alpha brothers were looking at her like she was a ticking explosive device.

Goddamn Fulmer. For all of the intel he'd packed into that dossier, there had been nothing about what to do if her cover was blown.

The Alpha Control Division's training protocols included always being truthful (alphas could sense a lie), never exhibiting aggression (as it would be met with the same), and limiting spoken interactions to blunt any curiosity they might experience. The fact that her superiors had no plan B was evidence that they weren't the elite minds Fulmer seemed to think they were…or that they knew she'd be screwed if she was found out and decided to send her anyway.

No wonder Fulmer had been willing to offer her a promotion if she succeeded. The asshole knew that the odds of her surviving to take it were less than even.

But Stacy didn't serve Fulmer—and she didn't serve some division she'd never heard of until a week ago and wasn't an official part of.

No, as a sergeant in the United States Army, Stacy served the constitution, the president, and those in her chain of command. Maybe it was a technicality, but until she saw an official signature on an official set of orders, this covert operation took second place to her military oath.

And so, given that Fulmer hadn't prepared her for this scenario, she would rely on the basics she had learned as a new recruit and which she continued to practice every single day. Assess. Plan. Act. Repeat.

The worst part of her situation was that she didn't know why this alpha had come raging toward her. No other alpha had questioned her story or commented on the way she smelled. And it had thrown her—badly enough that she didn't plan before she acted.

Stacy had no one to blame but herself for mouthing off to the beast. Sending such a dangerous threat crashing to the ground and making him spit blood was a pretty clear violation of the rule about not showing aggression.

But she hadn't been able to help it. She'd only had two days of alpha training, but she'd trained on the mat for years. The moves that she'd used to avoid him were so ingrained that she hadn't even thought before putting them in motion. But in defending herself, Stacy had escalated the situation, trading a possible threat for a very real and much bigger one.

Angry muttering filled the air as the crowd of alphas eyed her with varying levels of suspicion and scorn. An older alpha with a head full of thick silvery hair and the body of a much younger man pushed his way to the front and scowled at her as though he was seconds from taking her down himself.

"You sure about that, Vonn?" he demanded. "Because if you can't back up your words and prove she's a beta soldier, then you'll answer for speaking to me like that."

As Stacy tried to figure out the power dynamic between the two of them—Fulmer had insisted there was no hierarchy among the extraordinarily territorial and self-sufficient alphas—she couldn't help turning over the name of her aggressor. Vonn—not what she expected, but strangely, it suited him.

Damn it. Stacy shook her head to clear it, wondering what was causing her mental fog. Assess. Plan. Act.