Page 30 of Prey for Me

I’m so lost in thought that the sun blinds me when we emerge in a picturesque slice of paradise painted in pastel. Even the sand seems different here, pink instead of the bleached yellow I washed on. I’m too stunned to speak as Nakoa starts stripping down to his birthday suit, and Raphael busies himself recounting the supplies in the packs they lugged along, yanking out a huge fishing net that seems impossible to squeeze into what it came out with.

Nakoa takes it, and heads to the edge of the water, his tattoos moving like black waves as he casts his fishnet out with expertise. I’m staring at his sculpted ass a little too long, before I realize Leo is pressed against me. Leo holds the palm fern over my head, using the other to fan me, and I really do feel like some island princess.

Raphael sets to work building a fire, the next to peel off his shirt. I don’t admire his muscles or stare at the hint of what looks like a burn scar on his hip. Not at all, opting to take in the serenity of this space. The smell is relaxing too, and I pick up hints of what can only be described as…

Lavender and eucalyptus?

I recoil, and Leo nuzzles my cheek, asking me what’s wrong. I whisper it’s nothing, but I feel strange. It can’t be. Those scents are too woodsy for a tropical beach, at least I think. I figure my mind is playing a trick on me since I associate those scents with a sense of comfort. And as much as I shouldn’t be, I feel a sense of peace for the first time since my world came crashing down out of the sky.

“What’s wrong with you now, omega?” my pack’s apex alpha asks as he turns around with a stunning smile. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

“We’ve known each other for two days,” I dead pan and he barks with laughter.

“Yes, and like I said, you’re much quieter than usual. Are you still in pain?”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond before casting his fishing net back into the ocean. His muscular arms flexed with the fluid motion, mesmerizing me for a split second.

I want to respond, ‘what isn’t wrong,’ but keep my sore mouth shut. Everything about this scene is too surreal to put into words.

I can pretend hot beach boys are fanning me, feeding me, and fishing for my dinner at a tropical resort.

But pampered as I may be in this moment, it doesn’t change my reality. I’m trapped on a prison island held captive by alpha ex-covicts from this primal paradise’s ruling pack.

Sentenced to a sex cult, was it? I try to recall what that article called it when I thought I’d be waking up at Foxcroft, a house for unwed omegas, weeks ago. Back then, I thought my biggest worry would be clearing my name with the paparazzi.

As I dig my toes into the coral pink sand, take a deep breath, and soak in the pastel rainbow sunset, I have to admit that the gossip rag wasn’t wrong.

A mating bond isn’t that far off from brainwash, only mine will last forever. I scratch at the back of my neck. It’s starting to scab. I frown at this. I know they scar, permenetlu, but do mating bites bleed? I thought something in the enzymes or whatever big scientific word makes it

Super tetanus. I have super tetanus. And here I thought this lockjaw was from sucking those monstrous cocks off.

Maybe he can read my thoughts, because Leo’s cock hardens against my hip. Unhinged but, he’s growing on me. I can’t lie compared to Nakoa and Leo

Don’t they know the rules of hookups? No kissing. I mean, sure Nakoa and I are mated—I think—but it’s contract bond.

“Earth to Grace,” Raphael barks, a roaring fire too close for comfort. “Answer your alpha.”

His lackey routine is growing tiresome.

“No. I’m feeling much better, Nakoa,” I say, and he stills, mid-way up shore with a net full of a healthy sized catch.

His eyes twinkle with emotion, but he doesn’t akcnoelement my answer. Instead, along with Rapahel, he skins and cooks the catch. Nakoa flips the frying fish and tuts as Raphael who cuts his eyes to the sky when he tries to sneak a bite. Leo, for his part, alternates between fanning me and massaging my legs.

“If you have tech and can intercept signals, why haven’t you sent out an S.O.S? Why are you still on this island?” I ask, because I don’t want to think to hard about the fact that out there, Providence was shut down years ago. I can’t imagine whatever government body or private corporation that ran this place doesn’t know they’re here.

“You don’t think we’ve tried?” he asks, and I frown as the radio buzzes on his hips. “Rip tides and other natural elements kill the majority of escapees. Our boats are exactly ocean worthy, and most of our experienced sailors are dead. And there’s a jammer signal when you get further out from shore. We can receive things when they get closer. But nothing gets out.”

My heart thuds in my chest because nothing he’s saying can be good. It sounds like we’re all trapped in somebody’s warped experiment. But who?

“Our spies have spotted more modern technology up North though, which begs the question how they got their hands on it,” Nakoa murmurs as Leo and Rapahel dig in, and I nibble on the fish on a stick offered to me.

“Spies?” I ask hesitantly. This is all starting to sound like some spy movie.

“Among the wolves. And the majority of the boats crash on their side. The lighthouse, the real one not what we callthe prison, also functions from time to time. Nothing we can explain.”

“Which is why we need to take over their territory so we can figure out how they’re accessing lost tech,” Raphael adds, his knee knocking against mine as Leo wraps his arms around my waist after discarding the remnants of his meal.

“Wolves and foxes… I still don’t get the masks?” I say, getting overwhelmed by all this confusing information.

---