Page 36 of The Hunt: Emerald

To me, I have already won.

I have him.

And I’m never letting go.

Chapter 14

The Only One

MURDOCH

The river ’ad faded behind us a while ago, but the memory o’ me cock buried in ’er body is present even now. ’er pheromones, an’ the scent o’ ’er sweetness beneath the wildflowers an’ river moss are drivin’ me mad as she walks beside me, close enough that ’er shoulder brushes me arm evera so often.

I pull ’er tu me, running me tongue ova her deep brown skin, shudderin’ at ’er taste, especially wen she looks up at me as if she expects me tu strip ’er o’ the clothes she’s jus’ made ’erself an’ feck ’er against the nearest tree.Shite…

Me mate. Me Omega. Me Emerald. She’s goin’ tu be the death o’ me. Too beautiful… too perfect… loved by the earth. Even the crystal water drops from the river still clin’ ontu ’er skin as if desperate tu be with wit’ ’er even a second longer. The wind lovin’ly caresses ’er ’air, not a lick o’ frizz in sight.I want tu give ’er the world… an’ t’is dick…

The t’ought o’ snatchin’ ’er up, cockin’ a leg ova me shoulder, an’ shovin’ me tongue intu ’er arse an’ pussy runs like a nasty replay in me mind, an’ I’m tempted tu du it…but we’re so feckin’ close tu being’ done wit’ t’is game!I want ’er laid out on the fur o’ me bed naked an’ soakin’ me sheets.

The path ahead twists t’rough a thin stretch o’ silver-barked trees.We are na far from the checkpoint.Close tu riddin’ ’er o’ the pain an’ trauma she’s been running from. I canna allow me cock tu take t’at from ’er, no matter ’ow prettily she begs me wit’ t’ose sexy, emerald eyes.

I will na allow it.

I need tu get ’er tu safety… I would ’ave jus’ taken ’er an’ removed ’er from the arena, but it is’na possible. The Demon Kings imbued the area wit’ a barrier t’at instantly kills those who so much as caress it, so the only way out is the check point or death.

I want more…I smirk, glancin’ at ’er wen her t’oughts connect wit’ me t’rough our bond. She unlike me, canna control wat t’oughts I hear, so often times, ’er mind brushes mine, sparkin’ the protective instinct in me. ’er t’oughts are precious, always shy an’ warm, wit’ questions about me t’at she always talks ’erself out o’ askin’ because she dinna want tu be a bother tu me… but litt’l does she know she’s the one person who could neva be a bother. ’ell, if I’m honest, bits o’ ’er memory leave me wit’ questions o’ me own.

A dim cell, metal chains, the pungent stench o’ filth, despair, an’ disease keep flashin’ in me mind, along wit’ a woman who looks jus’ like me precious one, but a wee bit older. ’er eyes are like Emerald’s eyes, an’ she looks kind yet tired as she stares down, rockin’ a younger version o’ me soulmate’er mum? Sister? Aunt?Whoeva she is, she whispers words o’ despair intu me mate’s ear even as ’er own heart broke.

Leave this place, Emerald… don’t trust Alphas. They will only use you, break your heart, and leave you with a bond and a baby you can’t break or afford…Pain an’ anger lance me chest at ’er memory, t’ough it is’na all me pain an’ anger…most o’ it is ’ers…

The memory flashes across me mind once more… an’ it’s as if she’s battlin’ wat the woman told ’er an’ the bond she’s created wit’ me.Which one is real? Whose words should she trus’?

“Who’s the woman yer t’inkin’ about?” I ask, causin’ ’er tu gape up at me in shock, but realization comes ova ’er an’ she bashfully looks down at the ground befer lookin’ ahead. Wen she speaks, ’er voice is soft, yet t’ere is bitterness…

“My mother…”

“Ah… she’s beautiful…”

“Was…” she corrects an’ I glance at me precious one, takin’ ’er hand.

“Me condolences.” I kiss the back o’ ’er hand an’ she smiles, t’ough it does’na reach ’er eyes. I stay quiet, givin’ ’er the space tu speak if she wants or tu remain quiet, but she squeezes me ’and wit’ strength.

“It’s not your fault…”

“No… but Alphas are at fault,” I tell ’er, ’avin’ seen enough tu know t’at much, an’ she goes quiet again befer breakin’ the silence.

“Theyare, but not all… and I see that now,” she speaks quietly an’ with intention… the words o’ a woman who’s learned a lesson she can instill in others…kind, remorseful words o’ a queen.

“Who ’urt yu?” I demand an’ answer. I want tu leave room fer ’er tu speak wen she’s ready, but even if I ’ave tu crawl t’rough the recesses o’ ’er mind, I’ll find those names… t’ose tribes… an’ I’ll carve ’er memory in t’ere flesh righ’ befer they die.

She peeksup at me as if she’d ’erd me t’oughts, an’ I’m sure she did. I was’na tryin’ tu keep ’em tu meself. Wen she speaks wit’ intention, I’ll act wit’ it… an’ they will die, an’ luckily, me precious one is’na tu soft-hearted tu deny me takin’ ’er retribution.

“The Ashfang Tribe,” she answers an’ cuts ’er eyes at me.

“Tell me…” I nod, notatin’ ’er words.

“W-well… they rounded us up when I was six,” she murmurs, keepin’ ’er gaze on the path ahead. “Even though I was so young, I still remember that day so vividly… the burning huts, the screaming people…” she grits ’er teeth. “While I don’t remember a lot about our village, I do remember that it was quiet… a bit boring at times, but the people were kind…”

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