Bad News

As soon as I get out of the car, I can feel hundreds of eyes on me. There are guards everywhere watching like crazy bastards ready to break loose and run at me at the slightest provocation.

Wolf Camp for Delinquents. That's the name of this stupid branch of the government they sent me to for something stupid. For two whole months.

It's a camp funded by the council (ie: my father) and in two months these people are supposed to try their best to fix people who have committed misdemeanors, like me. Because the accidental death of a human is totally a misdemeanor, in case you were wondering.

The camp is very large and hidden in the middle of the desert two hours from the nearest human city and three from my pack. Obviously, escaping this place will be difficult, if not impossible.

I let out an annoyed snort and adjust my short shorts that have rolled up my thick thighs. My father gives me a reproachful look when he finally notices what I'm wearing, but he pulls my two suitcases out of the trunk before walking away from us to go greet one of the officers chatting outside. Top brass and all, I hope he's asking them to give me special treatment. It's the least I deserve.

My mom gives me a tight hug before we go through the front doors and repeats what she's been saying since we got in the car: Be good, be good, blah blah blah. Boring stuff I'm not going to listen to.

I reluctantly accept and after giving me one last kiss on the cheek, she walks back to the car, leaving me alone here sooner than I expected. I thought my parents were going to escort me inside until they made sure I'm perfectly fine, but that's not the case because three fucking alphas force me into the camp and take my bags right then and there to put them on some tables and start checking them as if they think I've got cocaine stuffed in there.

"Hey!" I complain as one of them starts groping me and forces me to open my arms. When he gets to my shorts, he pulls my phone out of my pocket and stuffs it into a plastic bag, "What are you doing?!"

"No devices of any kind are allowed. What's your name?"

"Angelique Monroe. Daughter of Cristoff Monroe, Alpha of Remstone," I blurt out, waiting for the reaction of respect and praise I deserve, but the alpha just writes my name on the bag where he put my phone without giving it any thought.

What kind of place is this?

The other two make a mess of my things, rummaging through my valuable clothes, clearly trying to make as much of a mess as possible. When they realize I don't have anything dangerous on me, they nod at me and walk away, leaving me alone to get my things back in order.

I've only been here a minute and I already know I'm not going to last long.

This, being patient and accepting that other people have more authority than I do, is definitely not my thing. And as if that alone wasn't enough, the heat is just unbearable.

Everything on me is soaking wet, my armpits, back, face, even my ass is sweating. I've never felt sweat running down between my buttcheeks before. This is wrong, I wasn't born for this kind of thing.

I wasn't born to stand in a desert where all there is are old cabins, wooden tables, mean people in uniform, mean people in normal clothes, dirt, mosquitoes and sweat.

I groan out loud as I walk, ruining my new sandals with dirt.

I can't believe that after all the things I've done, going on an innocent trip to London was what made my parents explode and punish me in this intense, over-the-top way. Not even when I broke into Alpha Robin’s house did they make this much trouble. And that was pretty extreme, even for me.

"Omega, your group formation is about to start, I advise you to walk over there if you don't want to get in trouble." a female alpha tells me when she sees me looking all around with confusion, "But first, you have to go to that cabin and leave your bags there. As fast as possible."

I roll my eyes and start walking towards the cabin with a last wave of my hand. I can see all the petty criminals run from that cabin and into a formation in front of some uniformed people.

There are only five men and five women in this group, including me. All of them look around my age but their designations are a complete mystery. And everyone else is ahead of me. That's also why I end up with the last bed (The worst, I guess, considering it's the oldest). I leave my luggage there and go to formation.

As I approach, a rude guy yells at me to line up with the others in a not at all polite way, even though that's obviously what I was planning to do.

I give him an annoyed look and, after analyzing my group, I get in between two alphas, regretting it immediately when my two already hot arms end up being touched by one arm of each.

I identify the omegas immediately and realize that I am the prettiest of them. I could be modest so as not to offend anyone, but I won't. The truth is that I am clearly the most attractive omega in this group, objectively.

I know I'm beautiful and I work hard for my beauty, so, denying it or pretending I don't know it’s stupid and a waste of time.

Sure, working out is never in my plans, but the gods of genetics have blessed me with a pretty decent body without much effort. I'm just not skinny at all, unlike other omegas, I'm curvy and my butt is big. My soft body makes my designation immediately obvious to anyone who lays their eyes on me.

"Well, this seems to be everyone, finally," says the beta girl in front of us. Anyone would expect a beta female who works in the army to be ugly or tomboyish, but this one is actually cute. She has long black hair in a braid and even without any makeup she looks good. I look at her badge to identify her.

Sergeant Zaragoza. Okay... ugly name.

The two older alphas around her nod as they see another man approach and walk away, not giving us another look, like we're nothing.

The sergeant with the horrible last name stands in awkward silence as she waits for the guy to approach. She's insecure when she's alone, which is good to note because I can take advantage of that at some point.

I'm getting bored as we wait and the arms of the guys at my sides seem to produce even more sweat than my ass, but that's all forgotten when I get a glimpse of the heavenly man approaching us.

Unlike everyone else, he's not in full uniform, he's shirtless and just wearing his pants, so I can get a good look at his abs and his big arms filled with tattoos.

As he gets closer, my breathing fails more and more and I think I make a sound because the guy to my left asks me if I'm okay, but I don't answer him because now the man is closer and I can see his beautiful face perfectly.

He has a strong, set jaw, a straight nose and pink, perfect lips I could kiss for hours on end. I can't see his eyes, but he seems to have long, golden lashes, just like the color of his short hair. He is the most perfect alpha I’ve ever seen and I’m instantly in love with him.

When he arrives, he stands in front of me, which I'm sure is a sign that we are destined to be together forever, and watches us one by one with a poker face, crossing his arms across his broad chest, making said arms look even bigger and more delectable than before.

I want him. I have to have him.

"From this moment on all of you are under our command. Alpha, beta or omega, it doesn't matter. We have complete authority over all of you just the same," he begins, in a loud, deep, authoritative, super sexy voice, "You're not here on vacation, you're not here to rest, let alone have fun. You are here because you committed a misdemeanor and you have a debt to pay, so from this moment on, you work for us, without pay. Regardless of what you may think, this is not a punishment but a blessing. The fact that you are here and not in jail means that justice thinks you can correct your mistakes, change and become useful to society."

How dramatic. I just killed a human, I don’t deserve this.

"We’re not here to be your friends, to tell you that everything will be fine or to make circles and hug each other," he continues, "We’re here to forge you to be better, to teach you discipline, respect and responsibility. We are going to demand from you much more than you are willing to give, we are going to give orders that you are not always going to like, but if you know what's good for you, you will follow them."

"And what if we don't?" I ask, unable to keep my mouth shut. Firstly because I want him to notice me and secondly, because his tone bothers me a little.

"Then you'll take your punishment."

Damn, that sounded sexy. I'd like to be punished by him.

"We will not tolerate any disrespect," the girl with the ugly name continues, giving me a dirty look and walking closer to my man, "We are your immediate superiors, which means if you have any questions or problems, you can approach Sergeant Thorne or me, as well as..."

The girl keeps talking but I don't care, I finally know what my future husband's last name is. It's nice. It fits my name, it will sound pretty when we’re married. Angelique Thorne.

"...at five o'clock in the morning, not a minute more, not a minute less. We have breakfast at five fifteen and are ready to start the day at..."

"What?" I snap out of my love-induced stupor when I hear that blasphemy. I don't think they actually expect me to wake up at five in the morning. It's practically impossible.

Everyone turns to look at me as super sexy Sergeant Thorne puts his cold brown eyes on me. He walks about five steps and gets closer. He gets so close that my brain can't quite carburize it.

His scent is masculine, strong and commanding and it makes my mind start spinning.

"Do you have a problem with the schedule, recruit?"

"Yes. I think it's very unfair. It's way too early."

"I suggest that the next time something strikes you as unfair, you keep your opinions to yourself. We're not interested and don't want to know what you think."

I narrow my eyes and forget that he's perfect for a second.

I'm not liking his tone, or what he's saying. I don't care in the slightest whether he's Alpha or a high command of this shitty camp. As far as I'm concerned, the only sergeant, general or president that exists in the world is me.

"I suggest you think your plans through more deeply next time, so that way no one has any opposition and everyone agrees with what we're going to do. It's only fair."

Thorne doesn't seem to make any sort of gesture to indicate any emotion on his face, but I can tell his scent gets heavier with his annoyance, a strange vein pops in his forehead and his jaw looks more defined all of a sudden.

And with the help of my omega intuition, I come to the conclusion that maybe my words were a little wrong, considering what my superiors just said. Maybe. Because I raised a good point, but I have the intelligence to know that in this place, good points raised by criminals are completely null and void.

"Give me 20 push-ups," he orders, stepping closer to me, shielding me from the sun with his giant tower form. The two guys at my sides suddenly disappear and only then I realize that maybe I somehow made a mistake.

And, even though I realize that I shouldn't be in trouble with anyone and it would be best to do as he asks, my dominant instinct won't let me do that.

"I refuse," I whisper, lifting my chin toward him to get a better look at him. Thorne looks confused by my reluctance to cooperate and moves even closer, now his pecs and nipples are closer to me and he's looking down on me like I'm an insect he must annihilate.

"30." Now he’s using alpha power behind his words. He doesn't know that doesn't work on me.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I won't do it. You can't make me."

"40."

There's something inside me, call it common sense, that tells me to shut the fuck up. But I'm Angelique Monroe and my big mouth will be the death of me.

"No, no, no, no," I reply, in a sing-song voice, because I'm an idiot. I can hear people whispering around me, but I don't turn to look at them, I'm too busy challenging Thorne with my eyes and singing with a smirk. I enjoy the way he's clearly affected by how he can't subdue me even though he's emitting pheromones to do so.

"70."

"70?" I laugh, "50 was next. All that muscle and no brain... you should have gone to school instead of..."

"100."

"Dude, learn how to count! We were going in order: 20, 30, 40..."

Unexpectedly, Sergeant Thorne's hand grabs the back of my neck, as if he's going to pull me towards him and kiss me to death, but instead of doing that, he tightens his grip and steps aside to throw me to the ground hard, hurting me and causing a sound in me so horrible that it sounds faintly like a pig having its throat slit.

My hands try to break my fall but because everything happens so fast, they get buried under my torso, my butt is left in the air and my face crashes into the dirt.

"150 push-ups. Now," Thorne orders, before I can even settle properly on the floor.

Although I knew that some reaction I was going to provoke with my chatter, I never imagined such a violent reaction to an omega, openly, in front of so many people.

The strangest thing is that no one says anything about it.

I pull my arms out from under my body and lift my face off the floor. I have hair and dirt in my mouth.

"Maybe we can fix this another way..."

It's too late, but I still try to fix things, because I can be stupid and get myself into the worst trouble, but I also accept when I make a mistake and try to do the right thing. It's too late whenever I do, and of course futile, but that doesn't stop me.

"150 push-ups or everyone eats paste for a week."