Page 100 of His to Hunt

"They groomed Genevieve for it," she continues. "For marriage into money. For securing connections. They tried to set her up so many times, with so many men, but it always fell through. Our family didn't have the status and no one accepted my father's proposals.

"But then Christopher came knocking. The Finch family,old southern money, the kind that buys anything it wants. Including people."

My jaw tightens, but I maintain my silence.

"Everyone thought he was there for Genevieve. That was the plan. That was always the plan." Luna's voice grows quieter. "But he didn't want her. He wanted me."

I reach for her hand, needing some point of connection as I sense what's coming.

"My parents were thrilled. Said it was a perfect match. That I should be grateful someone like him would look twice at me." Her fingers curl around mine, holding on like I'm an anchor in a storm. "They didn't care about my objections. Didn't listen when I told them something felt wrong. They just... arranged everything."

The room feels colder suddenly, despite the warmth between us.

"Our first official meeting was at the Finch estate. A private dinner. My parents left us alone 'to get acquainted.'" Her voice turns bitter on the last words. "He didn't waste any time showing me exactly what kind of man he was."

My entire body goes still, a cold, hard fury building in my chest. "Luna?—"

"He raped me," she says flatly, the words falling between us like stones. "And when I told my parents afterward, they said I must have misunderstood. That I should be flattered by his attention. That I was lucky he still wanted to marry me despite my... 'dramatic tendencies.'"

The rage that floods through me is unlike anything I've experienced before—a glacial, deadly calm that crystallizes into pure purpose. It's not the hot, violent anger that clouds judgment. This is colder. Clearer. More dangerous.

"I had no one," she continues, her voice steadier now, as ifspeaking the truth is unburdening her. "No one except Genevieve. She believed me. She helped me plan an escape. The Hunt invitation came, and she saw it as a chance. She never intended to go—she knew what kind of place it was—but she thought it might be my only way out."

My hand tightens around hers, my body rigid with controlled fury.

"She didn't know what would happen. That you would claim me." Luna looks up at me then, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "But it worked. I escaped. Until I saw him at the club that night."

"What are you going to do?" Luna asks, studying my face with newfound concern.

I reach out, cup her cheek in my palm, my touch deliberately gentle despite the violence coursing through my veins. "You don't need to worry about that," I tell her, my voice steady despite the murder building behind it. "You never need to worry about that again."

She searches my eyes, perhaps seeing for the first time the true extent of what I'm capable of. "Beckett?—"

"No one touches what's mine," I say, the words an oath. "No one hurts you and lives to enjoy it."

"You can't just kill him," she whispers, but there's no real conviction behind it.

I smile, the expression cold and sharp as a blade. "There are many ways to destroy a man, Luna. Death would be too merciful for what he did to you."

"My parents," she begins, a tremor returning to her voice. "They'll never stop. They'll keep trying to control me, to sell me to the highest bidder."

"They have no power here," I tell her, absolute certainty in my tone. "No one does. Not over you. Not anymore."

I pull her against me, feeling her body melt into mine as if seeking shelter in the eye of a storm. And that's exactly what I am now—calm on the surface, deadly chaos building underneath.

"Sleep," I murmur against her hair. "I'll be here when you wake."

What I don't tell her is what I'll be doing while she sleeps. The calls I'll make. The orders I'll give. The meticulous destruction I'll begin planning for everyone who ever hurt her.

Christopher Finch was already a marked man. Now he's a dead one walking.

And her parents? They're about to learn what happens when you treat your daughter as currency and hand her to a monster.

I hold Luna until her breathing evens out, until she's safe in sleep, protected in my arms. Only then do I allow the full extent of my rage to surface, cold and precise and patient.

They all thought they could take from her. Break her. Own her.

They're about to discover that I protect what's mine with nothing short of total annihilation.

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