Page 27 of Prey for Me

We lapse into silence, and I avoid looking at swinging cocks as they get dressed in military sytle fatigues, even Nakoa who I’d assumed was a nudist. When they’re finished, my bonded mate turns to me while tugging on fingerless black gloves. His eyes are unreadble, but steady, then they suddenly shift, burning with question.

“What does your sister look like, Grace?” Nakoa asks, Leo crouching beside me as Raphael stands off to the side, pretending not to listen

“Um…” I cock my head to the side, trying to catch up. I’d been so absorbed in watching them, I hadn’t considered what they were preparing to do.

“We’re heading out for an exhibition. Not tonight. But soon. So it would help to know what our target looks like. A scent trail? Does she look like you?”

“Um… Well… It would be better if you had a pencil and a piece of paper.”

“You can draw?” Leo chirps, and even Raphael looks up from his task, lifting a dark, busy eyebrow.

I shurg, “Decently. And it’s better than trying to commit my words to memory. She’s a beta, so it’s better to use an image to track her down,” I say.

Nakoa nods and sends Raphael after my treasure hunt of resources. Apparently they have a supply stash not far off, but he doesn’t seem happy in the least to be the errand boy, so I take pleasure in pissing him off just a bit. He acts like he’s a prince being ordered around and not some punk.

While we wait for them, Leo starts peppering me with more questions.

“She’s a princess too?” he asks and I shake my head.

“Neither of us are princesses, Leo. Our noble titles were stripped a decade ago,” I say, lifting my leg up to rub my sour feet.

But then, he plucks it out my hands and takes out. And I don’t fight him because it feels so fucking great. He moves to my calf, and then a little too high on my thigh. But I don’t mind him getting frisky if he keeps putting that divine pressure on my swollen legs.

“We’re half-sisters, technically. Our mother, Izhora, was born between the union of House Nikonav and House Bankole. She originally married the alpha of the Noble Tribe Jalloh. But, as far as I know, Faith and I share the the same father, Peter jackass Wilder, former King of…”

Leo’s eyes glaze over, now dull green, and I know I’ve lost him. I snap in his face to bring him back to reality.

Faith would know what to do to lighten the mood. What I wouldn’t do, what I would’ve give, to hear one of her awful puns right now.

“What happened to Izhora’s first mate?”

My pen pauses over the scrape of paper, hovering their, too long to not go unnoticed.

“He died shortly after their joint coronation. Mother never recovered, I think, from the loss of part of her bond.”

“Anything else about her we should know about. Birthmarks? Scars?” Nakoa asks and I frown.

“She has… diabetes. Recent diagnosis. She’s new to it. It’s a disease where–”

“We know what diabetes is, omega,” Raphael counters and I roll my eyes.

“Sorry, caveman. I didn’t want to assume. Anyway, she wear a patch that helps read her blood sugar levels. Doubt it’ll still be on her. But it would be easy to spot.”

Nakoa and Leo nod at this, byt Raphael’s disinterested expression turns grim, and I know what he’s thinking.

“She’s not weak because she has diabetes you freak of nature. I survived in heat. And she has her bodygaurd with her,” I say, like those are all absolute facts and not my specyuations.

“Didn’t say that,” he murmurs.

“You’re thinking it,” I counter.

“So you can read minds now, Grace?

He’s the only one who calls me by my name. And I still don’t know if that should make me grateful or afraid

“Enough arguing. But I’m curious about one more thing. Explain why you were even near Providence in the first place. Most of them come by boat.”

“What do you mean most of them?”