Vonn: The Boundarylands Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance by Callie Rhodes (13 inch ebook reader .TXT) 📗
- Author: Callie Rhodes
Book online «Vonn: The Boundarylands Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance by Callie Rhodes (13 inch ebook reader .TXT) 📗». Author Callie Rhodes
Vonn
The Boundarylands Omegaverse
Callie Rhodes
Contents
Vonn
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
About the Author
Also by Callie Rhodes
Vonn
Stacy may be a loyal beta soldier, but she soon discovers that in the wilds of the Boundarylands the only real battle is between predator and prey.
No woman willingly travels to the Boundarylands.
It’s where they are—the Alphas.
They keep to themselves in the wilderness, and beta civilization knows to keep its distance. Especially beta women…for fear they may not be a beta after all.
In the beta army, female soldiers are few and far between, and ones as skilled and highly trained as Stacy Clarke are even rarer. She’s the best of the best. That’s why she’d been chosen for the most dangerous mission—to test a revolutionary omega suppressant in the field.
If she’s successful, many in the beta world will be freed from their greatest fear…but if she fails, she’ll be plunged into a never-ending nightmare.
Welcome to the Boundarylands. A place where the only way to know your true nature is to feel the touch of an Alpha. Omegas may be rare, but every woman knows their fates are hellish—held captive, broken, mated, knotted, and bred.
Chapter One
"You're going down, Sergeant."
The private standing across the sparring mat from Stacy Clarke oozed the kind of bravado that came from intimidating size and strength and the willingness to use it to dominate others.
Yeah, Stacy knew the type. Back in high school, this guy wouldn't have been the captain of the football team—more like the powerhouse tackle who gets kicked off the team for failing his classes and drinking. There seemed to be a few in every new class that came through the Fort Blanchard Maneuver Training Center.
She glanced at the fifty or so enlisted men assembled before her. No women this time. She wasn't surprised. The last female recruit she'd trained had been eight months ago.
Maybe there would be one in the next class. Unlikely...but maybe.
But now wasn't the time to dwell on what might be. Stacy was too busy dealing with what was in front of her.
The over-confidant private had been eager to volunteer for the exercise. At six-foot-one, he had a few inches on her and a lot more muscle—the kind that came from time spent at the gym, checking himself out in the mirrors every chance he got, taking supplements to build mass. And from the challenge in his sneering gaze, he probably didn't think much of women in positions of authority—especially those who were his superiors in the army.
Stacy felt a familiar, bitter swell of resentment and forced it back down. There was no room for that kind of thinking while she was on duty.
"This'll be quick," the private joked, earning a wave of laughter from his fellow recruits. They stood at ease in a semicircle around the padded mat in the center of the training facility's large gym, across from the row of folding chairs had been set up for today's visitors.
Stacy didn't react to the taunt. She'd heard worse in the eighteen months since she began leading this particular training exercise, facing off with over a hundred newly-minted servicemen. Besides, she had more important things to focus on.
She let her gaze roam over the recruit class, but in her peripheral vision, Stacy was tracking her opponent’s every breath, gesture, and motion. Words could be powerful—Stacy herself had been trained in using them to distract or deceive—but no matter what someone said, their body never lied.
"You can begin at any time," she told him calmly. "No need to wait for me."
"Seriously?" The private appeared incredulous…and pleased. "You just want me to come at you?"
"If that's what you think will be most effective in hand-to-hand combat."
A flicker of doubt crossed his face. "But if I hit you with my full force, I'll flatten you, Sergeant. I mean, I could kill you."
Stacy knew the young man wasn't worried about her safety, but rather the consequences to him. He might think it good fun to pin a woman to the mat, but seriously injuring a superior in front of the visiting high-ranking officers was another matter, one that could result in unpleasant disciplinary measures.
As for Stacy, she'd long ago overcome any intimidation she felt in front of the brass. Good thing, too, because there were more than usual in attendance today, including Captain Mortimer, the facility's commanding officer—along with four or five men dressed in suits. Not the expensive, well-fitting suits favored by civilian visitors to the facility, but the plain, ill-tailored variety that practically screamed "government agency."
Stacy wasn't especially surprised to see them; lately, it seemed that every official who visited the base wanted to catch a glimpse of the army’s only female combat training sergeant in action.
"That's all right, Private. I understand if you're scared. I'll call someone—"
"I'm not scared."
"—else to take your place."
"I ain't scared!" the private roared, barreling toward her.
Stacy easily discerned his plan of attack from the tension in his muscles, the way he gauged the distance between them, the lowering of his shoulder in preparation to plow into her. She was more than prepared, waiting until he was nearly upon her to pivot.
Even with an opponent like this one, there were advantages to Stacy’s lean physique. It was precisely because she weighed forty percent less than him that she was able to move much more nimbly. Caught off balance by her sudden movement, he sailed past and stumbled when he attempted to recover, giving Stacy plenty of time to take a defensive posture.
"Fuck going easy on you," the private snarled, his face red with anger. His meaty hands balled into fists, his eyes focusing on her jaw. He couldn't have telegraphed his next move any more clearly.
Fueled with the kind of rage only humiliation could bring, the private drew back his fist and came at her head-on. All it took was a slight tilt
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