Page 51 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
“I’m guessing you don’t know much about how mating works in packs like this,” I say instead.
She bristles. “Don’t treat me like I’m naïve,” she huffs—and fuck, the little attitude is unexpected and hot, that spark behind her voice like she’s not quite done fighting me. “But…no, I guess I don’t. I was too young to be mated when I left here, and in Austin…well, they do things a lot differently.”
“How’s that?” I ask, my voice rougher than it ought to be.
“It’s more like a wedding,” she says softly, her lashes lowering. “It’s slow…sensual. There’s snacks and nests and nice words and the bite…I think the bite is the last part. Because it’s such a big deal.”
Fuck.
That word—sensual—should not come out of her mouth like that. All soft and dreamy, like she wants it. Like shemissesit. The image burns through me—her laid out in a nest, surrounded by soft blankets and candlelight, her body warm and willing, marked byme. Welcoming me in.
I turn to the window again, crossing my arms over my chest like it’ll hide the effect she’s having on me. Like it’ll stop my cock from hardening just at the sound of her voice.
“Well…you should know it’s different here,” I manage. “The goal is to claim your mate. Mark them multiple times. Breed them. If we’d actually mated last night…”
I glance over my shoulder, catching her wide-eyed stare, the flush blooming in her cheeks, the way her thighs press subtly together.
“…you’d be covered in bite marks.”
Her breath catches.
“That doesn’t sound very romantic,” she whispers—but her scent betrays her. Sweet and thick and fuck, shelikesit. Her body is reacting whether she wants it to or not.
“It’s not about love, Peaches,” I say, jaw clenched. “It’s about sex. Rutting. It’s about…pleasure.”
Her scentspikes.
A fresh wave of slick hits the air, subtle but unmistakable. My wolf claws against its cage, snarling for more, forher. It takes everything in me not to turn around and stalk toward her like the animal I am.
When I do look back, her lips are parted, pink and plush. Her gaze is locked on mine, something wild and uncertain and needy swimming behind her lashes.
That mouth…
That’s the first place I’d bite.
A little nip right on her plump lower lip, just enough to hurt.
“Anyway,” I mutter. “We have to figure out how we’re going to watch each other’s backs and get over to the dock.”
“Ah, so we’re watching each other’s backs now,” she says with a smile. “You make it sound like we’re partners in crime.”
“According to the law of the Rig, we may as well be,” I say. I get closer, lowering my voice. “Never forget that everything we’re doing right now is a crime according to your father. Not only are we about to break a hell of a lot of rules about omegas, but we’re committing treason in his eyes.”
She sobers. “I’m sor—wait. Yeah, Javi. I get it. No more jokes.”
At least she’s not complaining anymore.
I keep her close as I go to the door and step out, feeling more like an unwelcome guest than a prisoner. None of Gideon’s people are around, which seems like it’s gotta be either a flex or a serious lack of awareness. I settle on the former when, after a quick circuit of the first floor, it becomes clear that this place is a fortress.
The only people here are Gideon’s omegas…and Gideon has already figured out that I don’t intend on hurting them.
Not that I think he would care.
“Can you smell them too?” Peaches asks as we walk toward the front door. “My father’s mates—they’re somewhere in the Citadel, but I don’t hear a peep.”
“They’re hidden,” I say, “though I don’t know from what or who.”
“You, maybe?” she says. “They don’t know you.”
