Page 40 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
So I take a breath, force my fists to unclench, and ask the one thing that might matter enough to keep me calm.
“And Boyd?” I ask. “What happens to him?”
“Hm…” Gideon leans back in his big armchair. “Mr. Boyd seems like a smart man, and he’s done good work for me. If he behaves himself, he can leave once the storm passes. I’m a stern leader, but I can be generous.”
Generous my ass. I’ve seen what this guy does to people who disobey him. If I were smart, I wouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. But I’m here. I bither. And the only thing that will sever our bond is my death or hers…or covering her in so many bites from another alpha that it erases any trace of me.
“I’ll stay,” I say. “But no one else fucking touches her.”
Peaches flinches, glancing up at me, wide-eyed. I growl low in my chest, not at her—but for her. A warning. A signal. Don’t make a scene. Don’t show them how soft we are. We’re in the lion’s den now, and she needs toactlike she’s mine.
Because sheismine. And these fuckers need to believe I’ll kill for her—because Iwill.
Gideon spreads his hands, all mock innocence. “We wouldn’t dare,” he says, his smile slow and cold. “Like you said, you won her fair and square permyrules. And I’m not the kind of man who goes back on his word.”
His smile widens.
“Especially not when I’ve just earned myself a new foot-soldier.”
Peaches trembles, a soft whimper escaping her lips. I glance down to find a thin trail of blood slipping from her bite, carving a line of red down her pale skin, over the new collar I buckled around her throat. It makes something inside melurch—a sharp, visceral twist in my gut. A reminder of everything I’ve done to her.
Of everything I still might have to do.
“I need to tend to my mate,” I say. “Get her cleaned up. Dressed. Warm. Safe.”
I expect Gideon to wave me off—to nod, smug and satisfied.
Instead, he laughs.
A long, low chuckle that turns my stomach.
“You’re real tender, aren’t you?” he says, stepping forward just one pace. His good eye narrows as he takes me in—from my naked chest to the claw scars across my ribs, down to the faint, silvery track marks near the crook of my elbow. “Realsoftfor a man who used to bleed in the pits.”
The muscles in my jaw tighten.
He smiles wider, like he’s found a bruise to press.
“You didn’t think I knew, did you?” he says, circling me slowly. “Miami. The rings. I’ve bought men from there before. You’ve got the look—half-wild, half-broken. Always fighting like you’ve got something to prove, always protecting the nearest warm body like they’re the last good thing you ever touched.”
He leans in, breath hot near my ear.
“You’re ajunkyard dogwith a pretty bitch to guard now. That doesn’t make you dangerous, son. That makes youpredictable.”
Peaches makes a noise in her throat, like she’s about to speak, about toprotest, but I tighten my arm around her waist.
“Don’t,” I say. To her. To him.
My voice is low and calm.
But it’s notsoft.
Gideon studies me for another long beat. His grin doesn’t fade—but something in his posture shifts. He may be Prime here, but he can smell it now—that line I’m daring him to cross.
And that if he crosses it, I’ll bite.
“I need to tend to my mate,” I repeat.
Gideon exhales through his nose, flicks a glance toward Ephraim.
