Page 123 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
I nod. “Between heats. Crazy, right?”
“Next one’s right around the corner,” Maggie says. “Just a couple more days and it’ll be the full moon again.”
“I can’t believe it,” I say. “It’s been…it’s been a whole month.”
I take a sharp breath and Tilda shakes her head.
“Don’t let yourself go there. You’re safe. We’re not letting anyone hurt you.”
As if summoned by those words, a startled shout sounds from the hallway.
All four of us snap toward the noise, instincts sparking. Tilda’s up like a shot, snatching a towel and wrapping it around herself with one arm while the other draws her blade from the sheath she never parts with. Warrior. Protector. She's ready to take on whatever comes through that door.
But I only have a split second to appreciate that before somethingmassivebarrels into the hot spring chamber, sending the steam swirling in its wake.
The omegas scramble back.
I don’t move.
My lungs stop working. My heart might too.
Because green eyes find mine.
“Javi,” I breathe.
Time doesn’t just stop—itshatters. He’s there, swaying slightly, bare and bruised and too thin. His shoulders are hunched like he’s forgotten how to carry them. His body is marked with healing wounds, the aftermath of everything we barely survived.
But it’s him.
It’s him.
The bondsnapsback into place like a thunderclap in my chest. Everything in me surges toward him like the tide hitting shore.
My mate. My love.
My miracle.
Javi takes one staggered step forward, eyes locked on me like I’m the only thing holding him upright.
“You can’t go in there!” Colt’s voice barks from the hallway, a second too late.
Because he’s already moving.
Because nothing could stop him.
There’s a splash that soaks the tiles, and I cry out as Javi stumbles straight into the spring, arms out, too dazed to do anything else. Water sloshes, steam rising—but then he’s there,in front of me, dragging himself toward me through the pool.
And I run.
Ilaunchmyself at him, colliding with his chest as he catches me with both arms, like he never stopped waiting. The impact jolts us both, but he holds on, strong and real, breathing hard.
I bury my face in his neck and sob against his skin. He smells like heat and salt and home. His lips press to my bond mark, and I feel it light up inside me like a second heartbeat.
The tears come harder.
“Peaches,” he whispers raggedly. “You got us out. This is…this is the Austin Den, right?”
I nod, breathless. “Yes. Yes. We’re home.”
