Page 25 of The Hunt: Emerald

I cut my tear-stained eyes to him, wondering why we’re here. When we enter, I’m surprised when I see there’s a makeshift bed in the far corner that was not there when I occupied the cave. I’d opted out of comfort so I could stay alert if anyone snuck up on me…so this is where he was when he left the clearing.

He sets me down on the surprisingly soft straw, but I quickly roll over, not wanting to look at him, feeling odd because this is about the most stillness I’ve ever had in my life.However, there is no peace… only him.Alwayshim.

I feel him lie down next to me, and I scooch to the edge of the bed and try to jump up, but his huge hand wraps around my waist and roughly pulls me to him, cool breath on the back of my neck near my mark.

Chills spread over me and heat spills from my center when I feel him kiss it. I close my eyes tightly as he caresses my body… my body that wants him, yearns for him, screams for him. However, in my heart, I want to rip him apart. I desire toendhim, but the thought renders me numb.

My fingers bite into his skin, but I only feel his dick grow along my back, and hear him grunt as nut slides down my ass crack.

“Careful luv, yer turnin’ me on.”

“Ugh!”

One day…I promise myself silently.One day I’ll kill him. Slowly. I’ll carve my freedom out of his flesh,but not tonight. Tonight, I close my eyes, let the tears soak into the roots beneath me, and let my rage cradle me to sleep in my captor’s arms.

Murdoch

She’s cryin’.

She t’inks I dinna notice, t’at I canna see the way ’er shoulders tremble, or the way she’s buried ’er face intu the straw, prentendin’ tu sleep.

But I du… I notice evera broken sob she swallows, evera fist she makes, drawin’ blood, an’ even though we ’ave not bonded an’ our telepathy ’as not been established, I hear evera vile t’ought she ’as, an’ somet’in’ in me gut t’at I dinna ’ave a name fer twists.

An’ yet… I still dinna regret markin’ ’er against ’er will.

’ow can I wen ’er scent still lingers on me skin like an’ expensive perfume? ’ow can I wen me mark shines so beautifully on ’er t’roat? Or wen I know wat it feels like tu beinside’er?I feckin’ regret not’in’, but still, me ’eart aches.Feck!

As ’er sobs turn tu calmbreaths, lettin’ me know she’s truly fallen asleep, I canna ’elp but marvel at me Omega’s beautiful dark skin glowin’ in the moonlight. I run me eyes ova ’er wild hair, tangles wrapped around ’er face like a crown of shadows, untamable, an’ defiant like ’er. Long black lashes fan against ’er wet cheeks, tremblin’ evera time her plump, dark brown lip stutter out a breath in ’er sleep.

’ow devastatin’ly beautiful.

Me rare, wild Omega, an’ not jus’ rare because o’ ’er abilities. Not jus’ because ’er scent drives me intu madness, but because she’s me warrior. The only Omega who didn’t drop to ’er knees the moment she encountered me. The only one who,bit,ran an’ fought metu the bitter end. The only one who looks more beautiful covered in scratches an’ ’atred than any polished jewel in a palace.

I reach out, rough fingers nervously shakin’, scared tu disturb ’er first peaceful slumber wit’ me, but I brush a strand o’ hair from her cheek. Me heart stalls when she whimpers an’ flinches in ’er sleep.

“N-no! Please! D-don’t!” she whimpers an’ I grit me teeth.Is it me she’s fearful o’ even in ’er sleep?“Please, M-Master Lorsol! Please! I… I’ll be good!” she yelps in ’er sleep an’ I feel hell raise in me veins.Lorsol?Who the feck is t’at?Master?

Perhaps a previous owner? I know that dependin’ on the region, Omegas are rounded up like cattle an’ sum sold intu slavery. Some even choose tu be sex slaves an’ concubines… I neva cared about Omegas.I only joined the hunt fer the thrill, but now I see me ignorance…

I use the back o’ me ’and tu gently wipe a tear from ’er face, vowin’ t’at sumeday she’ll undastand. Sumday she’ll see wat it means tu be mine. Not jus’owned. Not jus’ knotted an’ marked.

Butkept.

Protected.

Worshipped.

She’ll undastand the wat it mean tu be chosen by me, tu know t’at I’ll make it so she neva cries again. I’ve neva been more sure o’ anyt’in’ in me life.

She was made fer me.

An’ one day, I’ll make ’ersee it.

Chapter 10

His Fever

MURDOCH

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