Page 20 of Hunt

Mama would wipe them from my face and tell me to toughen up before Alessio saw. For so long I thought she was just being cold and ruthless like them, but now I am beginning to realize that she suffered too. She’s married to the monsters—forced to share a bed with them every single day of her life. Forced to watch her daughters be abused and used over and over again. She must have felt so fucking helpless.

The ceremony is a grand affair, opulent and lavish in a way that only mafia royalty can pull off. The gardens of our estate have been transformed, strung with twinkling lights and adorned with cascading arrangements of white roses and lilies. It's like stepping into a fairytale, but the sinister undercurrent is impossible to ignore.

The guests are a who's who of powerful families from around the world—a dozen alpha packs all primped and preening in their finest. Their hungry gazes crawl over my skin and I shudder, feeling exposed and vulnerable despite my demure dress.

But it's not just the strangers eyeing me like a prime cut of meat. I can feel the tension rolling off my own alphas in waves—Silas, Hector, Sam, and Dante are a live wire of barely contained aggression. Well, Sam isn’t an alpha, but I can feel his eyes all the same.

I dare a glance over my shoulder to where they’re sat across the aisle. I meet each of their familiar eyes one by one. Their nostrils flare as they catch the scent of my impending heat, eyes flashing with possessive need. Hector licks his lips, andDante cracks his knuckles. I squirm in my seat, thighs clenching together as I try to will my treacherous body into submission.

But there's no hiding it. My heat is coming, announcing itself to every alpha in a hundred foot radius.

Panic claws at my throat as the realization hits me. This isn't just an uncomfortable social obligation anymore. It's a showcase, and I'm the prized filly being paraded before a pack of salivating alphas.

The wedding march begins, the haunting notes echoing through the garden. I tear my gaze away from my alphas and force myself to face forward as the bride appears at the end of the aisle.

She's a delicate little thing, swathed in yards of white lace and silk. A veil obscures her face, but I recognize the slight tremble in her hands as she clutches her bouquet. I know that tremble. It's the tremble of an omega walking to the slaughter, of sealing a fate she never chose.

As she takes her place beside the eldest Giovanni son, the other two standing slightly behind him, just as eager. I finally place her. Natalia Rossi. We went to finishing school together, back before my fathers removed me and sent me to training. Back when there was still a sliver of hope that I might fulfill my duty and unite our families.

Natalia was always soft. Gentle. Everything an omega should be. And now here she stands, about to be bound for life to three men who will break her like a tame horse, until she's nothing but a pretty, empty shell.

There are no priests at this wedding. Just one of the elder Giovanni alphas. He holds a familiar athame in his hands, and he’s wearing a mask over his face, and an expensive suit. A shiver rolls through me as I remember the night my own pack tried to trick me into a mating. When I stood in the center of a circle ofmasked men, an athame slicing into my palm, readying to bind myself forever.

I must have tuned out, because in a flash, the ritual is over. Natalia and the three alphas have all swapped bloody palms and recited their vows. Tonight, she’ll be fucked by each of them, hard, fast and unforgiving until she submits completely.

The crowd erupts into applause as the mating ceremony concludes, but the sound is muffled in my ears, drowned out by the pounding of my own heart. I feel faint, dizzy with the potent mix of dread and arousal coursing through my veins.

As the newly mated quartet makes their way back down the aisle, Natalia's eyes meet mine for the briefest of moments. In that split second, I see myself reflected back—the same desperation, the same resignation. But there's something else too, a flicker of defiance.

It stirs something inside me, that tiny spark of rebellion. It's the same spark that led me to embrace the life of a killer, to risk everything for a chance at freedom. I may be trapped here now, surrounded by alphas on all sides, but I won't surrender. Not like Natalia. Not like Mama.

I’ve been dancingfor hours and my feet are on fire. I feel like I need to take a long hot shower and scrub my body until my skin is raw after having all of these strange hands on me.

Alessio ordered me to dance with anyone who asked and to keep a smile on my face the entire time. I had no choice but to obey, though every graze of fingers against my lower back, or ever whiff of wiskey on the breath of men that are old enough to be my father made we want to hurl. I even danced with a Giovanni for a while, and his hadn't been an exception. Despitethe fact that he’s just recited his vow to love his wife forever, it didn’t stop him from inviting me to a guest room for a quickie.

I’d feigned a blush and said no thank you, trying to be as diplomatic as possible—knowing that if I were to offend him on his wedding day, Alessio would make me pay dearly. It would embarrass him and I just can’t take the chance that he might take that anger out on Mama when the lights go down tonight.

I can feel the eyes of my men on my back at all times—never wavering even for a second.

My men. Are they still mine?

As the reception swings into full gear, I find myself caught in a dizzying whirlwind of dance partners. It seems every eligible alpha in attendance is eager for a turn with the unmated De Luca omega, especially now that my impending heat is becoming impossible to ignore.

First up is Enzo Caruso, a cocky young alpha from Chicago. His hand rests low on my hip as he pulls me close, the spicy scent of his cologne invading my senses. "You look ravishing tonight, Belladonna,” he purrs, his lips brushing my ear. "I bet you'd look even better spread out on my bed." I force a coy smile, stepping on his foot just hard enough to make him wince as I twirl away.

Next is Raphael Santoro, a smooth-talking alphahole from a Miami pack. He dips me low, his wandering hands grazing the side of my breast. "What do you say we slip away for a bit, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his breath hot against my neck. "I promise I can make you feel real good." I grit my teeth, digging my nails into his shoulder as I right myself.

On and on it goes, a parade of arrogant alphas all vying for a piece of me. Lorenzo Bianchi cops a feel of my ass, Juan Esposito tries to drag me into a dark corner, and Raul Giovanni, the groom himself, has the audacity to suggest I join him and his new bride later tonight.

"Natalia's a sweet little thing," he leers, his grip on my waist bordering on painful. "But I have a feeling you could teach us both a thing or two."

I can barely suppress the snarl that rises in my throat. How dare he proposition me on his wedding day, in full view of his mate? But I swallow my rage, plastering on a saccharine smile. After their mating tonight, he’ll regret that invitation.

I stumble off the dance floor, my head spinning and my skin crawling with revulsion. I need air, need space, need to get away from the suffocating press of alpha pheromones before I snap.

I weave my way through the crowd, ignoring the knowing smirks and whispered innuendos that follow in my wake. Let them gossip, let them speculate. They have no idea the fury that simmers beneath my carefully crafted facade.

I finally excuse myself with a polite nod. I take off towards the restroom, but end up bypassing it entirely. I don’t know where I’m going, but as long as it’s far away from here.

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