Page 54 of Prey for Me

No?

Then why would you question fate?

I love it. He repeats my lies back to me, and they hit like bullets

We’re family. You didn't touch this. You meant it

You’re crazy

Good for you; I'm insane about you.

“The sunset is beautiful,” I whisper, squeezing my alpha’s hand.

When I turn to face him, he’s staring directly at me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

LEO

Ouromegaseemsveryconfused by the truth, if the way she crinkles her little nose is any clue. The smattering of freckles she’s developed bunches up like clusters of chocolate chips on her tanned skin. Freckles like mine. I grin at that as she allows me to thread my fingers through hers, one hand at her waist, as I lift her up the cliff.

“Come on,” I say as softly as I can manage, “we’re falling behind the pack.”

Grace nods and holds my hand tighter, and I guide her through the worst of the hills, grateful every time I can find an excuse to have her, lift her, lead her as an alpha should. Her tense expression becomes softer as we climb higher and higher towards the Lighthouse. Her smile is almost playful as I lift her, obviously looking at her butt in the shorts hugging her hips. She’s rounded out so nicely since she came home to our pack. And that makes me proud that I’ve provided as a hunter and proved myself.

I proved myself, and she let me claim her. It still feels like a grave.

“Enoughs staring at my ass, caveman. Raphael and Nakoa are saying we have to rest,” she says, clicking her tongue at me as I push her over the ledge, and then climb it with one hand.

I squeeze her hip, not apologizing for looking. No, I go as far as touching, slapping her ass next as she stands.

“Get moving then,” I murmur, and she laughs.

I never thought I’d hear her laugh again. This thought sends me into a funk, my mood as dark as the swirling storm clouds above.

Our little exhibition won’t amount to much. Faith is dead, the city’s a graveyard, and the prison… Well, that’s the entrance to hell. But we have to cross it to get to the other side, our prize. I know I need to focus, but all I want to do is spread her toned legs so I can continue pampering that pussy, knotting her until I can’t anymore. Because somehow, she’sstillin heat. It’s not a full heat cycle, but her smell is just too…sweet.

I frown at that. It’s been almost two months since I first caught her scent. Is a heat supposed to last that long? I have no idea; the only other omega I’ve encountered was my mother, and she died long before I was aware there were such things as alphas, betas, and omegas. And her scent smells…different.It’s so vague now, but it didn’t evoke these raw emotions; it only brought comfort. Nakoa once told me that families cannot scent each other in that way. Our natural paternity and maternity test, he joked.

But now I’m not so sure if what he told me about heats is true, because Grace is most definitely running a low-grade fever, not flooding her panties with slick, but certainly dripping it. And it doesn’t make any sense. Unless…

I glance at Raphael, who’s helping Nakao make a tent from our traps against something that resembles a truck. I’d usually ask Raphael to guide me when Nakoa is wrong–rare as it is–but he’sbeen oddly cagey since the yacht sank. Since he took Grace in her nest, Raphael’s been acting strange. He’s also the only one left in our pack who hasn’t bonded.

“Why are we making camp so soon?” I ask, helping everyone so that we can speed up the process.

Nakoa nods towards the sky, and now I notice the storm clouds are way too thick and heavy. A torrential downpour is coming our way tonight.

”Let’s rest. We’re in the eye of the storm, but it’ll get worse. And we can’t risk any of us slipping down the cliff,” Nakoa says sagely, holding his palm upward to the cleared blue sky.

And like magic, lightning cracks and thunder booms in the distance, and a sprinkle of rain starts falling from the sky.

Grace squeaks, and after a nod from our pack alpha, I grab her and place her under a tarp since there’s no way we can build a fire right now. I sink to the ground, Grace settles in between my thighs like a puzzle piece sliding into place, and I sigh, nuzzling the top of her head before taking off after my pack. I don’t mind sharing the woman meant for us, but it seems Raphael still does. He eyes me with… not so much contempt but longing. Like, he’s supposed to be comforting Grace. And he could, she would let him, if he opened his heart to her fully.

Ah, it makes sense now, what Raphael needs from me as his packmate and brother.

“Shit, he’s right. That’s just asking for trouble. Mud slides, avalanches. It’s not safe to move right now,” Raphael chimes in abdently, securing the last tarp over camp.

I want to add nothing about this shit is safe, but bite my tongue. Literally, I groan, and Grace looks up at me with concern. I bury my nose in her hair, and she stiffens before melting into my arms. Every day, bit by bit, she’s replacing her grief with rage. But it won’t fuel her forever. Everybody dies.But I swear that the next victim claimed will not be our omega. Maybe it’s time to stop this mission.

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