Page 29 of Hunt

"There are other ways that don't involve whoring yourself out," Silas snarls, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Fuck you," I snap. "I did what I had to do. I always do. And I don't remember asking for the Testosterone Trio's input on my methods."

"Well maybe you should start," Dante growls, taking a step closer. His voice is low and dangerous, sending a shiver down my spine. "Because from now on, you're not doing these kinds of jobs anymore. Not without one of us with you."

I let out a harsh laugh, the sound bitter and brittle. "Oh that's rich. The three of you thinking you can start calling the shots now. In case you forgot, I don't take orders from the Carbones. Especially not a bunch of knot-headed Alphas trying to pull caveman bullshit on me."

Hector's dark eyes flash with anger and he leans in close, his warm breath ghosting across my cheek. "Listen closely," he says, his voice a low, threatening purr. "You can posture and hiss all you want, but at the end of the day, we all know you need us. So you can either accept that gracefully, or we can do this the hard way. Your choice. You want to do kill orders for your fathers, then you’ll do it with protection or not at all."

I hold Hector's intense gaze for a long, charged moment, every muscle in my body coiled tight with tension. As much as Ihate to admit it, a part of me whispers that he's right. These solo missions are getting increasingly dangerous, each mark more high-profile and heavily guarded than the last. It's only a matter of time before I slip up and find myself on the wrong end of a gun. Or worse.

But the stubborn, prideful part of me rails against the idea of being coddled and protected like some helpless damsel. I've worked too hard, shed too much blood, to be viewed as weak now. Especially by the three Alphas I've reluctantly come to trust against my better judgment.

“Come on,” Silas says, nodding his head towards the street. “We’re too exposed here. Lets get to the room so we can have a chat.’

“The room?” I ask, arching a brow.

“Sam’s waiting,” Dante says. His face is expressionless.

“I can’t. I need to get back to the mansion.”

“Bullshit,” Hector says with a knowing smirk. “You’re getting too good at your job and finished early. You’ve got all night to fuck around before your dads send out a search party.”

I let out a heavy sigh, my shoulders slumping in resignation. As much as I hate to concede, Hector is right. I have time before I need to report back, and the adrenaline from the kill is still buzzing beneath my skin, making me restless. A drink and a chance to decompress sound pretty damn good right about now.

"Fine," I bite out, shrugging out of Hector's grip. "Lead the way."

Dante and Silas fall into step on either side of me as we emerge from the alley, flanking me like a pair of lethal shadows. Hector brings up the rear, his presence a solid wall of heat at my back. We weave through the crowded streets, the towering skyscrapers giving way to the glittering hotels and bars.

We approach a sleek glass and chrome building, the name "Onyx" emblazoned in elegant script above the revolving doors.The opulent hotel caters to the wealthy and powerful, offering every luxury imaginable to those who can afford it.

The uniformed doorman nods deferentially as we pass, ushering us into the plush lobby. Gleaming marble floors stretch out before us, the space dominated by a massive crystal chandelier dripping from the vaulted ceilings. The air is perfumed with the subtle scent of vanilla and money, the low murmur of conversation drifting from the well-dressed patrons.

We make our way across the opulent lobby to the bank of gleaming elevators, our reflections warped and distorted in the polished gold doors. Silas pushes the button for the third floor and we begin our smooth ascent, the soft ding announcing our arrival.

The hallway is lined with plush crimson carpet, the walls adorned with tasteful abstract art. We come to a stop outside room 317 and Dante produces a sleek key card from his pocket, swiping it through the lock with a soft beep.

The door swings open to reveal a sprawling suite, all sumptuous fabrics and rich wood accents. A towering wall of windows offers a glittering view of the city skyline, the lights twinkling like fallen stars against the inky sky. The main sitting area boasts a large glass coffee table surrounded by a plush leather couch and armchairs.

Sam lounges on the sofa, long legs crossed at the ankle and arms spread wide across the back. He looks up as we enter, his piercing eyes finding mine. Memories of when he fucked me by the pool flit through my head and my whole body flushes hot.

"About time you assholes showed up," he drawls. "I was starting to wonder if I'd be drinking alone all night."

Dante snorts, crossing to the bar and snatching a few crystal tumblers and a decanter of rich amber liquid. "You got the easy job, beta.”

Sam flips him off, and my eyes bounce back and forth between them. Since when were they on friendly terms? Since our escape after the three alphas executed their fathers for me, our life on the run was tense and serious. There were times over those three months where I thought maybe we could form a weird little pack of our own.

I settle onto the plush leather sofa, sinking into the buttery soft cushions. Dante passes me a tumbler of amber liquid, the crystal cool and heavy in my palm. The guys take up positions around the room—Hector perched on the arm of the couch beside me, Silas lounging in an overstuffed armchair, Dante leaning against the bar.

Sam leans forward to grab the decanter, splashing a generous pour of liquor into each of their glasses. The rich scent of aged whiskey perfumes the air, mingling with the spicy bite of the alphas' natural musk.

"So," Hector says, settling back against the couch and fixing me with a knowing look. "Tell us about this omega auction coming up."

I tense, my fingers tightening around my glass. I should have known Sam would run right to the guys and blab. I wonder if he omitted the part where he had to fuck the information out of me.

“It’s exactly what it is. My dads knew I was taking heat suppressants this whole time. They let me think I’d been careful because I was useful as their little killer. But now that I’m out of pills, I couldn’t hide my last cycle.”

The men shift around in their seats, looking angrier by the second.

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