Page 44 of Hunted

I type a quick text to David.

If it wasn't obvious. I quit.

And then send it to him, my heart hammering at a thousand miles an hour. A newfound freedom washes over me as I gaze out the window at the vast, untamed wilderness surrounding the cabin. This rugged world is my domain now, a place where I can spread my wings and soar without the suffocating expectations of society holding me down.

A slow, satisfied smile tugs at my lips as I toss my phone aside. Whatever challenges lie ahead, I know I'll face them with the same untamed spirit that courses through my veins.

I watch Aksel through the cabin window, his powerful muscles rippling with each thrust of the shovel as he fills the grave. A chill should run down my spine at the sight, but an unexpected sense of pride swells within me.

Tor's lifeless body lies buried beneath that freshly turned earth, a casualty in Aksel's battle to protect what's his. To protect me.

The memory of Tor bursting into the hunting room, his eyes wild with obsession as he declared his intent to claim me, still sends shudders through my body. But Aksel didn't hesitate. He fought with a primal ferocity to defend his territory, his mate.

I was his prize, the object of their brutal conflict. Even as I witnessed the savagery of their clash, I felt no fear of Aksel. His violence wasn't directed at me but was a means to eliminate the threat Tor posed. Aksel's nature was laid bare before me. He is the alpha, the apex predator who’ll stop at nothing to safeguard what belongs to him.

And I belong to him, wholly and completely.

The nausea I felt at the sight of Tor's broken body has dissipated, replaced by an overwhelming sense of belonging—of being chosen. Aksel could have let Tor take me and surrendered his claim to avoid bloodshed. But he didn't. He fought for me, risking his life in the process, all to keep me by his side.

As Aksel finishes filling the grave, his gaze lifts, meeting mine through the glass. His eyes lock onto me, blazing with that untamed intensity.

This man, this powerful, dangerous hunter, has claimed me as his mate.

He’s my protector, my lover, my everything. And I’m his, forever marked by his passion, strength, and unwavering determination to possess me.

A slow smile curves my lips as I watch him approach the cabin. I may have been the unwitting prey when I first arrived in this wilderness, but now, I embrace my role as Aksel's mate with open arms.

His gaze burns into me as he enters, igniting a fire deep within my core. I move toward him, drawn like a moth to his flame, and without a word, I wrap my arms around his sweat-slicked body, reveling in the scent of earth and musk that clings to his skin.

There is no guilt, no fear, no hesitation. Only the certainty that I am where I belong.

24

AKSEL

Zara speaks with her boss on the phone, her voice laced with frustration. The man's demands for the return of the equipment fill me with irritation. To return the equipment, Zara has to go back to the States.

When Zara hangs up, the weight of her boss's words settles over her. I can see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her eyes. "He says if I don't return the equipment, he'll come here himself to get the equipment and drag me back to Minnesota," she says, her voice small. He thinks I've lost my mind."

A low rumble escapes my throat. "Let him try," I growl, my fingers clenching into fists. "I'll kill him if he so much as sets foot in my territory.”

Zara's eyes widen at my word. “Aksel, you can't be serious," she whispers.

I step closer to her, my gaze unwavering. "I'm deadly serious, little bird," I say. "No one, and I mean no one, will come here and take you away from me."

She opens her mouth, perhaps to protest, but I silence her with a gentle touch to her cheek.

"You belong to me, Zara," I murmur, my thumb caressing her soft skin. “And I will never let anyone take you from me. If your boss dares to set foot near this cabin, I'll show him the true meaning of survival of the fittest."

The intensity of my words sinks in, and I can see the conflict within her. Part of her is terrified of my violent side, I know, but there's also a spark of something else—a glimmer of understanding, perhaps even a hint of desire.

I pull her close, enveloping her in my embrace, and she doesn't resist. "You're mine, little bird," I whisper, my lips brushing against her ear. “And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

I pull Zara onto my lap, feeling her soft thighs against my own. Her skirt hikes up, baring her long, slender legs, and I can't resist the urge to slide my hands up, caressing her smooth skin. She lets out a soft gasp, her breath hitching as she feels my cock against her.

“I made you pancakes,” I breathe against her neck.

She rocks her hips against me, seeking friction. “Not sure I’ll be able to focus on the pancakes,” she moans.

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