My Chosen Mate From Hell

Colored Pink

"We will not tolerate any disrespect," the girl with the ugly name continues, "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..."

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

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 if he’s 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 better 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.

But then I realize that maybe my words were a little wrong, considering what my superiors just said. Maybe. Because I raised a good point, but I am also smart enough 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 n*****s 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 f**k 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 i***t. 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 can’t stop. 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 up 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.

Even though I knew I was provoking him, I never imagined such a violent reaction to a woman. 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 will eat paste for a week."