Poison Ivy Ch. 05

ETA: This is the revised version of Chapter 5. Some minor details have been changed, so if you read ahead before the subsequent chapters are revised, a few things may not match up. I am updating them as I go through them, so you'll always see a note like this at the beginning of a revised chapter.

The final chapter has been written! I'd like to get a few of the revisions ironed out, and I'll be posting it in two parts, but it'll be posted soon. I'm also going to post a teaser for Aella and Trevino's story, so look for that one too.

Hey guys!

Some random trivia. Someone asked if I was a corpsman in the Navy. No, I was not. I was an Aviation Electrician, believe it or not. I thought about making Ivy a mechanic or electrician, but it just didn't fit with her character. However, I am now a nurse and an EMT, so I do have some medical background. So I'm not totally winging it on the medical stuff.

I'd like to start something new. When I write, I find songs that fit with the direction of the story, and I'd like to share the "soundtrack" of this chapter:

Underneath, by Cobi, album Songs from the Ashes

Glitter, by Rafferty, from the album Glitter

The Outsider, by A Perfect Circle, from the album Thirteenth Step

Stand Up, by The Cab, from the album Lock Me Up

Beggin for Thread, by Banks, from the album Goddess (Deluxe)

Okay there you go, hope you enjoy. To the newcomers, a lot of this won't make sense unless you read the previous chapters. This is an Omegaverse story, so if you're not familiar, you may want to do a quick google search so you understand the Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics that kind of dominate this story.

Also, this is a military setting. As such, and given my Naval background, there is a ton of offensive language in this story. So if you're easily offended by trashy language, please pass this one up.

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Ivy yawned and tugged at the hem of the fitted tunic-length white V-neck she wore over a pair of tailored jeans. She winced as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, balancing on the ridiculous black designer shoes with two-inch heels. How the fuck was she supposed to run in these things?

The outfit wasn't one she had picked out on her own, and it hadn't been selected from her preferred wardrobe Officer Muscles had inexplicably surprised her with last week. But with the new General and his pregnant Omega arriving today, she had let the giant bully pick out what he wanted her to wear (within reason), as long as he stayed away from skirts, frills and lace. All in all, he hadn't done a horrible job.

She could live the entirety of her life without putting these stupid fucking shoes on ever again, but whatever.

Officer Muscles had actually been on exceptionally good behavior during the past week, after she had found Kentucky, barely breathing but alive, right there in plain sight, in a darkened room along the medical building's main hallway. Trying to calm her down, Hunter had wrapped his paw of a hand around the back of her throat, his thumb curling around to press on her pulse, and she had remembered...

She didn't want to think about that right now. If she had her choice, she would never again think about the horrible flood of half-formed memories that had flashed through her mind in response to his big hand threatening to constrict her airway. She knew Hunter wasn't trying to hurt her. But in that moment, Hunter wasn't Hunter, and it was someone else's hand wrapping around her throat...

She shivered, deliberately locking that hot mess in a mental box, and sucked in a deep, calming breath.

The sound of a distant engine drew her attention up to the bright blue sky, just as a small jet became visible on the horizon. The aircraft steadily creeped toward their little airstrip in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by hostile, foreign territory.

Torrin. She hated being here, at the main base, pair-bonded to a bossy, massively muscled, disgustingly attractive, insufferable Alpha. An Alpha she still resented for the pair-bond he'd forced on her against her will, during her first estrous, when she'd been out of her mind with the overwhelming urge to mate. And if he'd done a few things that were clearly meant to make her more comfortable here, it was overshadowed by the fact that she had been caught, trapped and claimed, during a time when she hadn't even known she was Omega. That little interesting tidbit had become undeniable after she'd resurfaced after four straight days of fucking, covered with Hunter's cum, snuggled deep inside the fluffy fortress she'd carefully constructed. Eventually, she'd had to accept that the fortress was her first nest.

She just wanted to go home, forget this whole ordeal, move back into her cozy little apartment she rented with three other Beta females back in Lostra and assume her role as an army medic, maybe deploy again somewhere else. Kentucky's betrayal had ruined her longing to return to Chid FOB and Rico Battalion. She was so homesick... and she didn't even know where home was anymore.

Hunter's grip on her shoulder tightened. Frankly, she was shocked he had allowed her out of her cage of a bedroom for the occasion, but she could have lived without the way he obsessed over every minor detail of her outing, as if threats to her safety were everywhere and inevitable. She bristled at the thought. If a sacred, pregnant Omega could come into Torrin with her Alpha, she sure as fuck should be allowed to spend some time outdoors as well.

She wasn't entirely thrilled at the prospect of a new General, which hinted that the Torrin war would rage on for at least the time being and the entire company wouldn't be getting the hell out of dodge anytime soon. Which, in light of the late General Nelson's traitorous actions; sacrificing the lives of countless Beta soldiers in order to prolong the Torrin campaign and line his own pockets; was massively disappointing. Still, she wasn't going to complain about the chance to get some fresh air and be a part of the hustle and bustle of the main base, even as an honorary member. The sound of boots crunching gravel and army vehicles rolling by, accompanied by the nearby liftoff of a chopper, brought back fonder memories of her days among her fellow Beta soldiers. Back when she knew who she was, and where she belonged in the world. Now?

Now she had no fucking clue.

The private military jet reserved for top generals, admirals and government officials, dropped its landing gear and touched down. It slowed, with exceptional precision, and rolled to a stop directly in front of their little welcoming party. Instantly, a half dozen Beta soldiers got to work rolling out a literal red carpet up to the end of the opening hatch as a small staircase folded down from the side of the jet. Ivy rolled her eyes. Her time away from Chid FOB, among the Alphas who treated themselves like fucking royalty, had continued to stun and infuriate her. The amount of wealth and opulence they dumped on themselves was disgusting. All while Beta grunts, both here and on the satellite bases, made due without the necessities of war. The lush red carpet, entirely unnecessary, could have paid for life-saving medical supplies, or better-quality food. But, of course, the officers weren't concerned with the sorry state of Beta logistics. Why should they? Betas were disposable.

The beginning hints of rage hit the back of her throat. It tasted coppery and sickly sweet. It tasted like blood. Her hands curled into fists, and her eyes narrowed. Hunter, obviously sensing her growing agitation through the bond, began purring quietly, scattering her thoughts like a dog running through a field of pigeons.

She really hated when he did that.

She brought her attention back to the aircraft, where a pair of massive shoulders squeezed through the tight fit of the doorway and strutted down the stairs, his impeccable uniform and styled hair giving him the air of a preening peacock. The dude was handsome, no doubt about that. Straw blonde hair stood out against tanned skin, light brown eyes narrowing as they scanned the base. A chiseled jaw sat below defined cheekbones, and she watched as a corner of General Maverick's glossy lips lifted in a smirk, a dimple appearing on his left cheek.

Wait, was he seriously wearing fucking lip gloss? His brown eyes and the hint of darker roots already indicated he dyed his hair, and her eyes flicked down to his obviously manicured fingernails. She snickered. Her own Alpha's storm-grey eyes bore holes through her, and Ivy smirked up at him in response.

General Maverick descended, his polished boots hitting the end of the red carpet and coming forward, a small figure trailing close behind him. Ivy attempted to look around the massive presence of the approaching Alpha to catch a glimpse of her first up-close-and-personal Omega, but the dude's ego was the size of a pregnant friggin whale. It seemed like any time a pale, child-like hand or a flash of sunshine hair became visible, the Alpha shifted, stretching himself to fill the entirety of her attention. She huffed a frustrated breath and rocked back on her heels.

The General stopped when he reached Ivy and Hunter. His gaze fell on her first, and she suppressed a shiver as he gave her a ridiculously thorough once over. His obvious elevator eyes gave her the creeps, and she definitely didn't like how his gaze seemed to linger on the small amount of cleavage her push-up bra managed to squeeze up front and center. Even without being able to run and lift weights every day, Ivy had spent a good two hours of every monotonous day going through an improvised exercise regimen consisting of squats, lunges, pushups, mountain climbers, burpees, and any other body-weight moves she mixed in for the sake of novelty. She was little but fierce, and her toned body didn't exactly lend itself to generous curves. So why this asshole was staring at her like she was a fucking buffet line, she had no idea.

Also, there was the whole matter of his pregnant mate, silent and invisible, standing directly behind him. And the fact that he had dragged this invisible, silent, pregnant mate to Torrin in and of itself struck, like, 50 points off his man-card.

He hadn't even spoken a word yet. But right then and there, Ivy made her judgement.

This guy was a fucking prick.

Finally, the General's eyes snapped up to meet Hunter's and he grunted. "Lt. General Hunter Logan?" he stuck his arm out, and Ivy was slightly surprised he didn't offer Hunter the back of his hand for kissing. She bet his handshake would be limp as fuck, though. Hunter took the proffered appendage and grunted back. Ivy rolled her eyes. Must be Alpha-talk for pleased to meet you.

"General Maverick. Great to have you sir. This is our recently discovered Omega, Ivy." Hunter put his hand on the back of her neck possessively, careful to avoid the pulse point and whatever kind of mental detonation it had triggered last time. Ivy offered her hand, and The Mav stared at it for a moment, a startled look on his face, before reaching out reluctantly and shaking it. Alphas, as Hunter had explained haughtily while selecting her attire for this little shin-dig, were not supposed to touch a pair-bonded Omega, but Ivy had no intention of following such bull-shit customs. Like, ever.

Yep, definitely limp. Like a wet fucking noodle.

"Ivy," the big dude drawled. He was only slightly smaller than Hunter, which made him plenty more than twice her size, and the guy couldn't even muster up a decent handshake. "So glad your hero here was able to get you out of that dreadful place before anything... untoward happened to you. It's a pleasure. Hunter's so lucky to have claimed such a lovely mate."

Ivy gritted her teeth. Chid FOB might have been a dreadful place, but not for the reasons Maverick-dude thought. And there it was again, that C-word she hated so goddamn much. Claimed. The thought that anyone had laid claim to her made her blood boil, and she caught herself glaring at the big Alpha who'd decided she really didn't deserve a say in the matter. His fingers on the back of her neck twitched and tightened, a silent response to her angry eyes.

The Mav turned to the side and put his own hand on the back of a small, stunning Omega female's neck, bringing her forward. "This," he said proudly, "is Aella, my expecting Omega." The girl patted her swollen belly happily and inclined her lovely head.

"Fuck me," Ivy said, and immediately clamped a hand over her big mouth. She really had to work on that whole no-filter thing. But goddamn, was this girl serious?! Soft, silky curls the color of the sun framed a delicate, angelic face. This chick had all the curves Ivy didn't, and she imagined the pregnancy hadn't done anything to hurt those heavy, perky breasts. Where the hell was her bra? Her erect nipples just hung out, right there in the open, for everyone to see.

"Uh, so nice to meet you, Aella," she said quickly. Obviously, it made sense for a top General to have secured such a flawless Omega, probably gifted to him by one of the powerful men who controlled that sort of thing. Like a sacred pet. Still. She bet Hunter was sorry he hadn't waited for someone who looked less like her and more like Aella. She was probably nice and docile, too.

Everything Ivy wasn't.

"So lovely to meet you, Ivy," she breathed, her musical voice positively tinkling. "And Lt. General Logan. I do hope you've been taking good care of our long-lost sister."

Ugh. The Omegas called each other sisters? How boringly predictable.

"Aella, please call me Hunter. How wonderful to have such a lovely soul grace our rather gloomy base."

Ivy's eyes snapped up to her Alpha and narrowed. Lovely soul? Why, that dirty, sly-tongue, no good son-of-a --

"Yes, well, I suppose you have things to brief me on. We should let the girls get acquainted." Maverick-dude sounded bored. Aella stuck out her hand to Ivy. "Come," she said conspiratorially. "You must tell me everything about yourself and show me around."

She spared one last glance at Lt. General fuckface and bared her teeth, promising a very lengthy conversation the next time they were alone, and then turned back to little Miss tell-me-everything and took her hand. She'd show her around, all right. They had about six Beta chaperones, supervised by a low-ranking Alpha officer, but that didn't mean she couldn't take the opportunity to meander into medical and ask around about a certain traitorous ex-bestie. "Of course," Ivy mimicked The Mav's drawling tone, pulling her new sister down the main drag, followed closely by their Beta protectors. She could feel Hunter's eyes boring into the back of her head as she walked away. Whatever. Mister lovely soul could eat it, for all she cared.

.......................................

"I'm not quite sure what you expect me to do about all this, Logan," General Maverick gestured to the mess of papers strewn out across the mahogany desk in front of them. The documents detailed Hunter's findings on General Nelson's treasonous actions; undeniable proof that he'd been colluding with the enemy to extend the conflict and line his own pockets with kickbacks from the companies who supplied the tanks, weapons and supplies that drove the war efforts. Hunter had kept Ivy's parentage out of it, a decision he was glad he had made after meeting the rather vain new General. The less people who knew about her, the safer she was, and he wasn't exactly filled with confidence over Maverick's ability to take charge of the Torrin conflict.

"Sir, I advise a course of action that leads to our rapid withdrawal from Torrin territory. It's clear Nelson only refused the offer of surrender and use of the port for his own benefit. If we can negotiate a similar offer, there's no reason for us to stay."

"I'm not sure," Maverick sounded doubtful, and Hunter tensed. Not sure? What the hell was going on?

The General stood up and walked to the small window overlooking the main road, lacing his fingers behind his back. "May I be frank with you?" he asked, glancing at Hunter from the corner of his mud-brown eyes.

Hunter nodded and gestured for the General to continue. "Let's both be adults about this. There are men much higher in the pecking order than both of us who, for one reason or another, would like us to stay engaged in this area. Now, I don't like it any more than you do," he said, turning to fully face Hunter and raising his hands as if defending himself from the larger Alpha's murderous glare. "But the fact is, this is simply above our paygrade."

Hunter realized he had started growling and had to focus on suppressing the urge to attack the older, weaker male. "I would have thought, General," he said sharply, "that you would want to focus your attention on your pregnant Omega instead of furthering the war efforts here." Hunter enunciated the word pregnant. It was a big fucking deal. Omega numbers were dwindling, and though dynamics didn't present themselves until early adolescence, the chances of Omegas breeding more Omegas was high. Even Ivy, who knew next to nothing about Alpha-Omega dynamics, was shocked at Maverick's plans to bring Aella here.

His mind involuntarily began picturing Ivy, her belly swollen with his child, and his dick hardened. The universe where he would have allowed his Omega to have been brought into hostile territory so close to the birth of his child simply did not, and would not ever, exist, and he thought Maverick a fucking bastard for dragging her here instead of finding her a surrogate Alpha to care for her through her last trimester.

The Alpha shrugged. "Aella will be just fine, and I'd thank you to keep your thoughts away from her, as well intentioned as they are. I'm here to stabilize the situation and ensure the base is fully secure, at which time I will pass command on to a younger General who knows how to properly follow orders. What I am not here to do," he said, staring hard at Hunter to make sure he was paying attention, "is begin the process of withdrawing. You would do well to remember who it is you ultimately report to."

And there it was. Of course, it would come down to him. Vice President Hickson, the man who had driven Ivy into Beta hands. He had put her life in danger far too many times to get away with it alive. As soon as Hunter's tour was over, and he'd seen her safely back home to Lostra, he would start the embarkation of hunting the man down. Unable to stand the sight of yet another corrupt commanding officer, he turned and stalked back to the desk to begin gathering the documents detailing Nelson's treason. He had no intention of leaving them here, in Maverick's obviously greased palms.

Ivy's father was already dead. He just didn't know it yet.

"And the boy?" Maverick asked behind him. He looked back over his shoulder.

"He's still heavily sedated and comatose. I haven't been able to question him yet."

Maverick waved his hand in the air as if clearing away smoke. "No matter. If Eli, that dumb Torrin shit, wants to recruit soldiers off our satellite bases, he's more than welcome to them. A few Beta grunts make no difference to me. We simply issue an order to kill at the first sign of discord. Take no prisoners, even if that means trimming the fat off our own bases. Anything short of complete compliance within my ranks will not be tolerated. As for the traitorous little bastard, just kill him and get it over with."