"Stop it, Troy," she begged, beginning to sob. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
Faith didn't realize that the words were true until they left her mouth.
Troy let go of her wrist, and the knife fell to the sofa between them.
Faith snatched back her hand and wiped away her tears. She tucked herself into a ball and cowered in the corner.
Troy stood and walked away. When he reached the door, he turned and looked at her, his face completely blank.
"You can't kill me, Faith. Your nature won't let you. I am your alpha, and you are my omega, and not even your God can break the connection between us."
Chapter Nine
The steady click-click-click of Troy's torque wrench echoed through the three-bay garage as he secured the last bolt on Aric's transmission housing. Nothing calmed him like the familiar sound of a bolt being tightened to a hundred pounds of pressure.
Right now, that was just about the only familiar thing left in his life.
Troy pulled the tool free and set it down before dragging his hand through his hair. He didn't care that his hands were grimy with oil and grease. He could get rid of that easily enough with the bar of Lava soap resting on his utility sink.
What he couldn't seem to get rid of was the constant churn of thoughts intruding...even out here where he felt most at home. And with both Aric and Cade impatient to get their rigs back, he didn't have a moment to just sit and think, either.
Even now, he caught wind of a car turning off the Central Road and onto his drive.
No…make that two cars. One was Ty's—Troy could tell from the telltale ticking timing belt that sooner or later Ty was going to have to let Troy fix——and the other was the clunker with the piece-of-shit engine that Faith had crashed into the trash bins outside Evander's Bar.
Shit.
The last thing Troy wanted was more visitors, but it was looking like he didn't have much of a choice.
Troy's property was one of the few places in the Boundarylands where alphas could go without explicit advance permission. Since he was the only mechanic around, it had to be. Either his alpha brothers needed to be able to bring their vehicles to him, or Troy would have to go to them. And it was a hell of a lot easier working on the aging fleet of rundown trucks with his tools in reach.
The only downside was that he had extended a standing invitation to cross over his property line to every alpha in the area. For the most part, no one abused the privilege—but two visitors in one day still strained his patience.
Actually, it would be a total of four when all was said and done. Ty was driving Faith's rundown van, but Troy could sense that his mate Mia was behind the wheel of Ty's truck with their pup in a baby seat at her side.
At least Faith was still fast asleep. Even through the densely insulated walls of Troy's house and the metal siding of his garage, he could detect the slow and steady rise and fall of her breath as she lay tucked under a blanket on the couch, with no signs of stirring anytime soon.
Troy was almost willing to thank Faith's God for that small miracle. The last thing he needed to deal with right now was another outburst, especially around Ty's mate and child.
Faith didn't know how lucky she'd been that Maddox had been in a rare forgiving mood when she had insulted him, or else Troy would have had to face off with his brother and blood would have been spilled. He didn't want to have to face the same issue with Ty.
He rubbed at his temples, trying to forestall the onset of a headache. Why the hell had fate sent him, of all alphas, a virgin omega? And not just some poor woman who had never had sex before, but a card-carrying, purity-ring-wearing, pleasure-is-the-Devil's-tool sort of virgin.
Troy wasn't naïve. He knew that all mate relationships came with problems. Samson had faced the social stigma of binding himself to a beta woman. Ty had to crush a deadly shadow military operation.
But Troy would have preferred to deal with either of those scenarios instead of the hand he'd been dealt. He wasn't afraid to tell his brothers to fuck off, and he sure as hell wasn't afraid of cracking a few beta skulls.
But a lifetime of being mated to with a woman who would try to fight him at every turn? Who would spend four days of every month begging for his cock and the other twenty-six reminding him of how much she despised him for it?
Troy had no idea how to deal with that.
He was accustomed to women like Nicky's girls—professionals who knew how to satisfy a man both in bed and out, mostly by keeping their opinions to themselves. Women who had enough experience to appreciate the skill with which he returned their sexual favors. Who understood that though the sex was transactional, it could still be a pleasant experience for everyone if they put in the extra effort to be appreciative.
Faith definitely did not put in that kind of effort.
And still, what he felt when he touched her was nothing like sex with a beta prostitute. To compare them would be like comparing his favorite Cementex combo wrench with a three-dollar piece of junk.
Faith might be a damn pain in the ass, but she was the only woman who could coax his knot to swell.
Troy couldn't help but close his eyes for a moment to savor the memory. Coming inside one of Nicky's girls had gotten the job done, but knotting Faith…that was everything.
Everything that Troy had ever dreamed of and then some.
And Faith had felt it too.
Troy knew that for certain. He could taste it in her kisses. Smell it on her skin. The satisfaction she received from his cock, his mouth, his hands—it was complete.
But
