Page 30 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
"As punishment for her betrayal?—"
He spreads his arms wide, as if offering me up to the crowd.
"My only daughter will be given as mate to the strongest alpha—the meanest one among us, the one who can claim her."
The alphas snarl their approval, their bodies tensing, ready to fight, ready to tear each other apart, ready to tear me apart.
Gideon’s grin is slow, indulgent.
"Which means it’s time for a good old-fashioned brawl, boys!"
The men cheer as my eyes widen. I finally pull my gaze up to my father, meeting his eyes. “Daddy?—”
He rounds on me, snarling in my face. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ call me that again, girl,” he spits. “You lost the privilege when you helped our omegas escape…and now, you get to pay the price. Remember, Esther—‘I do not permit a woman to teach or to exercise authority over a man; rather, she is to remain quiet.’”
He holds his fingers to his lips, meeting my eyes with murder in his gaze.
“Now…sh!” he says.
The alphas all laugh, the din around me growing louder and louder. I cover my ears, curling into a ball at the center of it all.
They’ll either kill each other or rip me to shreds fighting over what they think belongs to them. Maybe both.
I’m sure my father knows that.
“You know the rules,” he says, “but tonight…tonight is a little different. Anyone who wants her gets a chance. And to make it even more fun—I’m going to give her a chance to run. To hide. Make it a little game. You like a little fun, dontcha’ Esther?”
I want to sob, to run home to Austin. I need my pack behind me, but all that’s at my back is the vast expanse of the Gulf.
I want to go home.
“Please,” I whisper—not to Gideon, but to anyone out there who might help me.
And for a second, I think I see something.
Or…sense something, I guess?
There’s someone in the milling crowd of alphas, a light in the darkness. I can scent his distress, the way he wants to protect me—the way an alpha is supposed to smell, like a mate out to kill anyone who would touch his omega. I don’t dare look into the crowd, but I have to hope he’s the one who catches me.
But who could it be?
There’s no one here who cares.
“The eye of the storm is here,” Gideon continues. “Now…at the sound of my pistol, you all get to go for her—and for each other. Don’t be afraid to shed blood; you know your friends here on the Rig can recover from those kinds of wounds. And when this is all over, you’ll have your prize.”
He holds out his hand.
“And you get to collar her yourself.”
I resist the urge to curl tighter, to hide myself from the world. I have to prepare to run—to escape. I steady myself as much as I can, getting into a lunge.
“You ready?” Gideon says.
He holds his gun up toward the empty sky, aiming into the center of the hurricane’s eye.
“Set.”
He smirks.
