Page 14 of Prey for Me

“Run, rabbit, run.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

GRACE

Idon’thavetobetold twice to run from them, especially after what Raphael did to me. I can still taste him in my mouth, no matter how much I swish my spit around and try to expel him from my throat. I hear the pack howling behind me, and I pick up my pace as best I can. I push past the pain, the humiliation, and my fractured pride. And I run! I may not be super fast, or super strong, or be able to heal my body on command. All abilities, I suspect, those alphas have. But if I’ve proved nothing else to myself since I had the misfortune of washing up on Providence, I have more resolve than all of them combined.

I won’t die like this! Nor will I be claimed by him.

The sun is blazing hot as my feet pound stone and dirt. It’s not long before I make it out of the city. I feel oddly better than I did before Leo locked me in the cage. However, I don’t look into that too deeply. The result is still the same, me fending for my life while these alphas fight over their imagined right to fuck me.

Crouching low to the ground, I’m practically crawling on hands and knees through the thick, thorny brush on the outskirts of the dilapidated city. I don’t want to be spotted. I use the stick at first like a dull machete, helping me to knock down overgrown vegetation that looks like it teleported out of the Jurassic age. But at some point, I decide to drop it. It’s not like I can take any of them in hand-to-hand combat.

I try to avoid scraping scrap metal and broken glass this time around, staying hidden in the shadows. I know it’s virtually impossible, but I’m certain this island has some form of super tetanus, and I’m more than confident no doctor could cure me if I got infected with something strange. I’m already more than sure some toxin is coursing through me from that monsters cum.

My breaths grow more labored the further I get away from the city. The concentration of alpha pheromones is overwhelming, especially in the forest, and I genuinely feel like a rabbit inching closer to the jaws of a ravenous wolf as they “hunt for my cunt.” Disgusting!

No, more like I’m close to the ravenous jaws of a fox,I think, as a flash of cherry apple red catches my attention. It’s most definitely not falling fruit. I lay flat on my stomach and held my breath, army crawling away from this new threat. Then, I see glassy, jaundiced eyes looking around wildly, which causes me to halt in my tracks.

One of these fox-masked motherfuckers is way too close for comfort!

I hold perfectly still, not daring to breathe, let alone move. I won’t stand a chance against the slimmest and weakest of these lunatics. This ones ribs are poking out like sharp knifes, but I know he’s still inhumanly strong compared to an omega. And now, more than ever, I wish I had pushed to take up boxing classes rather than the rhythmic gymnastics and swimming I was forced into. It’s not like I can boomerang throw a stick andknock him out as I sash-shay out of danger, nor breast stroke my way across the entire Pacific Ocean!

I curse my incompetent shitstain of a Father for what feels like the millionth time.

“Little white rabbit,” the nameless alpha sneers, and a shudder of revulsion rocks my entire body. I recognize his voice. The one who said he was after my cunt.

“Come out and play! I know the pack leader, the second, and the third want you for themselves. This hunt is just game, a prelude to the real thing. But their will be too few of them, most of the women sickly betas who will die on us before we can fuck them. Maybe some omegas, but not for us. I know this is just a game for us, to get our blood pumping before war. But I won’t tell if you don’t. I’ll treat you better than they ever could. A Wilder? They’ll never accept a Wilder as their queen.”

As if you creepy piece of shit!

I’m still unsettled by the way Raphael calling me little white rabbit made my toes curl and my pussy clench with anticipation, while this man inspires nothing my revulsion, my slick drying up like a desert oasis running dry. I blame it on the potent mixture of meds Leo must have fed me, my waning heat, and the mind-numbing adrenaline pumping through my veins as I crawl away. It’s the only thing I can grasp at, even though it doesn’t explain the differences in my reaction, which should’ve been disgust both times, with each alpha. So why wasn’t I disturbed?

I shake away those thoughts and the questions his riddles inspired in my mind. What war? What sickly beta females was he talking about? Doesn’t matter. I need to run!

“Woah!” A shadow falls from the sky and lands on the creep who’s been begging to fuck me.

I don’t need to get a good look at him to know it’s Leo. And he’s beating the living hell out of the alpha.

He holds his bleeding mask in his massive fist. Raphael sniffs the air, looking to Nakoa, who cranes his face to look at me, dead center.

“Omega? Still playing hide and seek?”

The burst of energy that rushes through me propels me away from the scene of yet another murder. BEcause if that alpha surive–and that’s a big if–I think he would be better off dead.

The progress away from danger is slow-going, seeing as I’m at a disadvantage, crawling along at a snail’s pace, sometimes at a crouched run, but never at full speed like I was back in the city. I stop long enough to reach between my thighs. When I bring my fingertips to my face, they’re sticky and clear. Slick and no blood. Guess my period’s over. At least they won’t be able to track a blood trail ontop of my potent pheromones. That should atleast stall the betas, who can’t smell the difference between an omega and an omega in heat.

To the rest of the fox-masked pack, the black-masked alphas, my entire body is a beacon calling to their primal urges to hunt and fuck until I’m carrying their children. Just the thought makes me sob. Everything thing on this hellhole seems designed to fuck me or fucking kill me. Maybe both.

“Yah!” I let out a whoop of air as a Venus flytrap snags a bug the size of my fist out of midair.

I crawl back and if as cue, something designed to fucking kill me strikes. I cover my mouth to try and suppress the wail of pain that will act as a signal for them to find me. I don’t see it, but something hisses and slithers away. I stare at the twin puncture wounds from the snake bite. After all this struggle and survival, I might die from a snake bite!

“No, no, no!” I whisper, unwrapping a bandage on my arm to wrap my hand, thankful that I look like a mummy right now. I cradle it and break out into a run. At this point, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain by making it to the shore. If I washedup, maybe I could find some supplies, a radio, something that could help me. If there are more islanders on the other side, beta women, perhaps even omegas, they could help me. Have faith, like Faith said, and maybe they’ll take pity on me.

If I weren’t on dry land in L.A. not long ago, I would be having a mental breakdown more than I already am, now sure I was thrust through some Bermuda Triangle wormhole to the prehistoric age during the crash. These alphas act like cavemen anyway, and that’s saying something when I’ve been surrounded by stuck-up he-man alpha men since I was born. Nothing is making sense again; my mind is swimming. Oh shit, this might be it.

My feet hit water, and I stumble, my body rolling in a fast stream. Why is there a stream this high up in the forest? The rocks and grass look different, too, thinning out. I get up, stumble back to dry land, and I run! Run…

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