Resultados de "Jenn Bullard" en Todas las categorias

This is my team. I’ve worked my tail off to be the captain of it, and I’m a secretly gay omega. No one needs to know my sexuality, which is why I work harder than anyone to play hockey. Omegas tend to be smaller, less muscle dense, and I was devastated when I came into my designation. My coach as a kid told me I’d be taken advantage of and passed as the team toy, something I’m terrified of. So, I strike before anyone else can. People call me the Viking Captain, due to the fights I start on the ice. I have no problems wading into battle with my stick and a wild smile.

It’s been ten years since my sister and I escaped with our closest friends from Gideon’s operation. We made a deal with a devil, intent to save the people we could: ourselves. When you’re drowning, sometimes that’s all you can do.

Kidnapped, hurt, and left for dead were not on my bingo card this month. I’ve been running from danger my entire life. I finally have roots, a home, a roommate who is my best friend that I’m secretly in love with. I refuse to take shit from anyone, so when I kicked a belligerent alpha out of my club, I didn’t realize my life would change forever. Three gorgeous alphas saved me from being eaten by rats, making me think that was the end of my nightmare. But now I’m locked in a house that would be any other omega’s dream home, but to me it’s a pretty cage.

I am not the typical fan you’d expect to see at a hockey game, but I grew up playing and watching it because of who my dad is. He’s the coach, and one of my favorite people. I love everything about the sport…except the players. They’re entitled and often alpha Neanderthals and I’d rather not deal with them. I refused to attend for a long time, but a twist of fate has me sitting on the bench at every game now. My fishnet stockings, witchy outfits, and combat boots aren’t necessarily in line with being the typical fan, either.

Forget. A word that means so much, and can be used in so many ways. I wish I could forget that my mother died when I was only sixteen. I wish I could forget the terror of living alone and on the streets. Most of all, I wish I could forget the fear I feel over my designation as an omega. Going through heat is normal, I should be able to suck it up and get through it with anyone, right? But sharing my body when I’m completely vulnerable feels too intimate to share with a random alpha. Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice.

I’ve been captive for longer than I can remember. My handler bought me from my parents when I presented at 10 years old because he likes his girls young and innocent. Yes, it’s just as bad as it sounds. Now my life is pain and misery, but it’s routine so it’s manageable until my handler announces he’s selling me at Auction. The hormone suppressants aren’t working anymore, and I’m simply too old for him now. I’m shaking in my skin as I wait my turn to walk across the stage when I smell the most delicious scent. Why is Fate such an evil witch?