Page 44 of Hunt

"Thirty million dollars!" An alpha calls out. The highest bid so far. It makes me dizzy.

The crowd whispers excitedly as my father hushes them and strides towards the stage, his designer suit impeccable, his dark eyes glinting with malice.

The room falls silent as he approaches, the other alphas shrinking back in deference to his power. He climbs the steps slowly, each footfall echoing like a death knell. I feel my heart race, my palms slick with sweat as he comes to stand on the step in front of me.

But he doesn't even spare me a glance. Instead, he turns his back to me, facing the crowd of alphas with a triumphant sneer. "Gentlemen," he begins, his voice oozing false charm. "I present to you the finest omega to ever grace this stage. My own daughter, Belladonna. A virgin, pure and untouched, ready to be claimed by the highest bidder."

Lie, lie, fucking lie.

Bile rises in my throat at his words, at the way he speaks of me like I'm nothing more than a piece of meat to be sold off. But beneath the disgust, a cold fury takes root, spreading through my veins like ice. I’m sick of this. Of all of it. I’m sick of the games, the beatings, the threats. I’m sick of seeing the fear in my mama’s eyes.

As Alessio continues his power speech, I take a single step forward, just as all the lights in the club go off, thrusting us into pitch darkness.

It’s as easy as breathing to pull the knife from under my dress where it presses snugly against my overheated skin. It’s even easier to drag it across Alessio’s throat from behind.

The warm rush of his blood spilling over my hand is gives me a sick kind of thrill. His gasping, gurgling breaths are muffled by the sound of distressed voices filling the room as alphas try to figure out what happened to the lights.

The lights flare back to life, harsh and blinding after the pitch darkness. Chaos erupts as the alphas blink in confusion, theireyes adjusting to the sudden illumination. And then the screams begin, rising in a discordant chorus as they finally see Alessio's lifeless body crumpled at my feet, his blood pooling around my ivory heels.

For a heartbeat, there is only shocked silence. The alphas stare at me, their faces a mix of horror and disbelief. I meet their gazes defiantly, my chin lifted, the bloody knife still clutched in my hand. Let them see. Let them know what happens when you push an omega too far.

And then, all hell breaks loose.

Gunshots shatter the stunned silence, ringing out from every corner of the room. The alphas scramble for cover, shouting and cursing as they try to locate the source of the attack. But it's too late. My alphas are already among them, moving with the deadly grace of trained killers.

Silas is perched on the balcony, a sniper rifle nestled against his shoulder as he methodically picks off targets. For a moment, a chocked laugh escapes me. How in the ever loving fuck did he get a sniper rifle? Each shot finds its mark with ruthless precision, alphas dropping like marionettes with their strings cut.

Dante is a whirlwind of brutal efficiency, his face a mask of cold fury as he cuts through the crowd. His Glock is working overtime, dropping alphas left and right.

Alphas are rushing at the doors, but they’ve been locked from the outside, trapping them inside with the Carbones on the rampage.

Distantly, I see Alpha Marco take a bullet to chest, and internally cheer.

I waste no time and rush to the right of the main stage, trying not to slip in Alessio’s pooling blood. Rosa has fallen off the alpha’s lap and onto the floor. Omegas are scrambling all over the room as bullets fly.

I leap off the stage, my heels slipping in the slick blood as I rush to Rosa's side. She's curled on the floor, hands clamped over her ears, eyes wide with terror. I drop to my knees beside her, grabbing her shoulders.

"Rosa! Rosa, look at me!" I shout over the deafening gunfire and screams. Her frightened green eyes meet mine, brimming with tears. "You have to get out of here. Run to the dressing rooms and hide until it's over, okay?"

She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, then nods, struggling to her feet. I help her up, my heart clenching at how frail she feels in my arms. "Go, now!" I urge, giving her a push towards the stage.

Rosa stumbles forward, casting one last desperate look over her shoulder before disappearing behind the velvet curtains. I turn back to the chaos, my blood singing with adrenaline.

The alphas are in full panic now, trampling each other in their frantic attempts to escape the hail of bullets. Some futilely try to return fire, but they're no match for my alphas' deadly precision. The air is thick with the coppery scent of blood and the acrid tang of gunpowder.

Hector is a one-man army, his powerful frame moving through the mayhem like a tank. His gun has long since run out of ammo, and yet he pulls out another. Where the fuck are they getting all this fire power? I realize quickly that they must have been planning shit long before they brought me into it.

I spot Sam across the room, locked in vicious hand-to-hand combat with a burly alpha. Even outnumbered, Sam moves with the fluid grace of a natural born fighter, his strikes precise and devastating. The alpha crumples to the ground and Sam wastes no time putting a bullet between his eyes before moving on to his next target.

Pride surges through me at the sight of my mates painting the walls red with the blood of my enemies. This is the revenge I've dreamed of for so long, finally made flesh.

Suddenly, a set of doors on the far side of the room bursts open, the crash of splintering wood barely audible over the cacophony of violence. I whip around, expecting another wave of hostile alphas, but instead find myself staring at a group of familiar faces.

Micah, the Carbone's cousin, strides through the shattered doors, flanked by several of the pack's old bodyguards from Oregon. They move with the lethal grace of predators, their eyes cold and focused as they survey the carnage.

Relief floods through me at the sight of them. Backup. The Carbones must have called them in, anticipating the chaos that would unfold tonight. I have no love for the three Carbone cousins. The alphas I witnessed mate an omega under their father’s orders gleefully. But if they’re here to pledge loyalty to the new leaders of the Carbone pack and all it’s businesses, then who am I to complain?

Micah catches my eye across the room, giving me a curt nod before signaling to his men. They fan out quickly, seamlessly integrating into the fray.

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