To do any different would be a gamble, considering that he lived forty miles down the Central Road from the roadhouse and neutral trading territory. And Vonn would rather freeze to death than have to trudge miles in either direction to admit to his closest neighbors that he was a dumbass who couldn't take care of his business.
As a result, the cab generally smelled like fresh grease and oil, with maybe some notes of pine sap or mud from the bottom of his boots. Right now, however, those familiar scents had been obliterated by a single whiff of the woman in his passenger seat.
It wasn't like Vonn had never smelled a damn woman before. His brothers often accused him of being one of the horniest bastards in the uplands, and Vonn figured it was probably true. Hell, the truck cab held a lingering hint of some prostitute's perfume more often than not.
But that was forgotten when he breathed in the tantalizing, complex signature of his omega-in-waiting: like honey dripping from the comb and splashing into a pitcher of fresh cream.
Vonn cleared his throat, embarrassed by the poetic nature of that thought even as his mouth watered and his base instincts roared to life. They were only a mile or two from the roadhouse when he'd had to roll down the windows just to keep his thoughts straight, and even with all the air blowing through the cab, the scent chased him relentlessly. At this rate, his cock would be so hard by the time they got home it would probably break off like the arms of those ancient marble statues.
Which might be a relief, actually. Because not only was his passenger throwing off that maddening scent, she was playing mind games with him. She hadn't opened her mouth once since she followed him to the truck and got in as if she was doing him a favor.
She—Stacy—was a hell of an actor; he'd give her that. There was no other explanation for the disdainful look she'd tossed at the crowd as they drove off, as if they were a bunch of acne-covered middle schoolers rather than alphas who'd like to string her up as a warning at the beta checkpoint.
Army sergeant or no, she had to be terrified. Or else stupid, or lacking basic powers of reason, neither of which struck Vonn as remotely likely. Only twenty minutes ago, she'd been dancing around him like a goddamn ninja, but now she was as still and silent as if she'd been drugged. A beta might be forgiven for thinking she was in shock—but the whirl of thoughts and emotions in her head were proof she was anything but.
Vonn might not be able to keep up with her mind's furious pace, but he could tell there was order to her thoughts. Just as when she'd first faced him in the campground, she was both measured and calculating. There would be no reckless moves from her, no throwing open the door and pitching herself out of the moving truck. Hell, if she had decided to run, she would have done it back at the campground while gathering up her things.
Instead, someone with her patience and discipline would wait for the right moment, slipping out when he was sleeping, for instance. But Vonn was counting on her being too bright for that. She had to know she wouldn't get far.
Vonn knew he ought to keep his mouth shut, but after they'd gone a dozen more miles, he couldn't stand her silence anymore. "You still think you're going to get out of here, don't you?"
As soon as he spoke, he knew it was a mistake. She gave him nothing, pretending she didn't hear him. Which made him double down like some wet-behind-the-ears pup propositioning his first prostitute. "You'd be nuts to try it. You're miles from the border, surrounded by private alpha property."
Still nothing…other than a very slight twitch at the corner of her lips. One that suggested she knew she had the upper hand. Which pissed Vonn off.
"You know that if you make one misstep, any brother of mine will be well within his rights to choke the life right out of you. And after your little admission at the camp, don't think they wouldn't jump at the chance."
This time, she turned and drilled him with a look that contained no emotion at all, probably some intimidation tactic she'd learned in soldier school. But on the inside, her mind was firing off like firecrackers. Bing. Bang. Boom.
What he would give to know precisely what she was thinking.
Vonn had never been anyone's idea of subtle, as open a book as any alpha could be. He didn't see the sense in bottling things up. He liked to drink and fuck and win, and he didn't care who knew it.
Holding nothing back had served him pretty well, too, no matter what that self-righteous son-of-a-bitch Gray thought of him. When he lost—as he had to his friend Trace recently—at least it was never for lack of trying.
The more he thought about it, the more convinced Vonn became that the way to deal with this woman wasn't to meet her where she was but to knock her out of her comfort zone. And if he had to talk to himself all the way home, so be it.
"So yeah, you'd probably make their day if you took off running. But that's assuming you could manage to get away from me. Which, of course, you can't."
Next to him, she bristled almost imperceptibly. Bingo: he'd hit the target. Like any fighter worth her salt, pride was her weakness.
"I mean, it's ridiculous even thinking about it. You wouldn't make it ten yards if you took off running."
"I seemed to be holding my own just fine earlier," she blurted.
Vonn suppressed a grin at this small victory. "I guess you were. A little too well, actually. That's
