Vonn: The Boundarylands Omegaverse: M/F Alpha Omega Romance by Callie Rhodes (13 inch ebook reader .TXT) 📗

Stacy nodded at Fulmer, noting that Mortimer hadn’t mentioned his rank or title. Whoever Fulmer was, whatever he wanted, it was obviously going to be strictly need-to-know.

Fulmer stared unblinkingly at Stacy, as if she was a moth pinned to a board. She wondered if he was trying to intimidate her. If so, he was going to have to try a hell of a lot harder.

"You're a very impressive woman, Sergeant Clarke," he finally said in a bland tone that was at odds with the obvious tension in the room.

"I'm just a soldier doing my job, Mr. Fulmer."

"Agent Fulmer." The man flashed a chilly smile that disappeared as quickly as it appeared. "Now, that is the kind of answer I love. That whole there's-no-I-in-team mentality."

The man's praise made Stacy even more uncomfortable, and she let the remark pass without comment.

Fulmer seemed unbothered. "Tell me, do you consider yourself a true beta patriot?"

What the hell did he think? Stacy was one of only a handful of women currently serving in the military, and she had struggled, fought, and bled to stay there. "Every soldier is a patriot," she settled on saying.

"Maybe. But your attitude about alphas sets you apart. You're on record as saying they pose the greatest domestic threat to the country. Why is that?"

Stacy shot a questioning glance at her captain, who nodded his permission. Still, she had to take a breath before telling Fulmer what he wanted to know.

"Three soldiers in my unit went on to join Special Forces." She got that part out before her throat tightened and her voice went thick. "All three died on the mission to recover Senator Baird's daughter."

"And now you train others to avoid their fate." Fulmer seemed unsurprised. He obviously already knew the story, begging the question of why he'd asked in the first place. A tendril of dread snaked through Stacy's at the knowledge that he was studying her reactions…and may have been sent precisely because he was good at it. "How touching."

Stacy addressed Mortimer. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"What is this about?"

Fulmer regarded her with the faintest hint of a smirk on his thin, colorless lips. "My apologies. You're obviously a busy woman, and I don't wish to take up too much of your valuable time, so I'll cut straight to the heart of the matter. I head a small agency in Washington that has worked closely with the Pentagon for the last few years."

"Which agency is that?"

"The Alpha Control Division."

Stacy frowned. "I've never heard of it."

"For good reason." Agent Fulmer ignored the captain, who was nervously tapping his fingers on his desk. "But you do know our work—we're the ones who developed the scent blockers and the dormant omega tests."

Stacy tried to hide her surprise. "I thought the military was heading that research."

"God, no." Not bothering to conceal his scorn, Fulmer added, "But you have been an important partner in the work. And I'm hoping our relationship can continue. Just this month, our scientists finished testing something even more revolutionary—an injectable serum that blocks the hormone release that triggers a dormant omega's transformation."

If true, that was revolutionary. Every woman Stacy knew was terrified of discovering their true nature at the hands of a brutal alpha, of becoming his slave, and being forced to live out their lives isolated in the Boundarylands.

It also explained why not everyone had been invited to this meeting. Such a discovery would be handled with the utmost secrecy until the government decided to make it public.

"What does this have to do with me?"

Fulmer exchanged a glance with the captain before responding. "The results coming out of the lab are promising. Phenomenal, really. But laboratory testing can only take us so far. We've come to the point where we need to test the serum in the field."

The captain cleared his throat. "I'm sure you understand, Sergeant Clarke, that this mission cannot be entrusted to a civilian."

Stacy stared at him as it dawned on her what this meeting was really about. "But I'm not qualified, Sir. Surely you need someone who has tested positive for the dormant omega gene."

"Yes," Fulmer said, impatience creeping into his voice. "You fulfill that requirement."

Stacy shook her head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Agent Fulmer, but I was tested just a few months ago, and my results came back negative."

"Those results were incorrect."

Stacy looked from Fulmer to the captain, who gave an unhappy shrug. "I'm sorry, Sergeant, but it's true. At the time, the decision was made not to disclose your status in case the truth changed your, er, feelings about your position here at Fort Blanchard."

Stacy's jaw twitched. The captain was a terrible liar. It was much more likely the higher-ups had wanted to keep her close at hand so she would be available the moment they were ready to conduct field testing. "What is the mission, sir?"

Fulmer seemed to suffer none of the captain's compunctions. "You'll be injected with the serum before being embedded with a group of smugglers traveling to the Boundarylands.”

"And then what?" Stacy tried to keep the nervousness out of her voice. "I run up to an alpha, tap him on the shoulder, then come back and tell you how it went?"

"Not exactly," Fulmer said with a thin smile. "Under laboratory conditions, one dose of the serum is effective for seven days, or a full week. We will be sending you in alone, with three doses to test under real-world conditions."

Stacy couldn't contain her shock. "I'm being deployed to the Boundarylands for three weeks with no backup?"

"From what I witnessed today, Sergeant Clarke, you should have nothing to worry about. If anything, those alpha bastards should be afraid of you.”

Chapter Two

"Gimme another." Vonn Carpenter slammed his empty beer mug onto the bar with enough force to get the attention of every other alpha in the place, earning him a few dirty looks. Vonn didn't give a shit—not just about what his brothers thought, but about anything other than getting another damn drink.

Ha, the little nagging