Page 43 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter
“To stop someone worse from claiming you,” he mutters, jaw clenched. He won’t look at me. His hands plant on his hips like he’s working through something difficult, like I’m the one making this hard for him.
I blink. I can’t make sense of it. He’s standing there like he’s the victim, like this isn’t my whole life shattering at my feet.
He stole my choice. My freedom. My future.
He took away the dream—the one I’ve been holding onto for as long as I can remember. A dream of being chosen, loved, wanted. A sweet first kiss. A gentle bond. A claim that meant something.
“Once we got here, I realized you don’t deserve this,” he goes on. “And now we’re both trapped. Trust that I’m kicking myself for it.”
The way he says it is what breaks me—flat, cold, like this is just some mistake he regrets, like I’m collateral damage in his bad decision-making. His mark is still bleeding on my throat, hot and raw and permanent, and he’s standing there acting like he stepped in something he wishes he could wipe off his boot.
My face crumples. I lower my head, letting my hair fall in front of my eyes so he can’t see the tears. I don’t want him to see me cry. I don’t want him to know he’s already broken me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, the shame of it pooling heavy in my chest. I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for. For existing, maybe. For being here. For not being stronger, better, someone else.
He grunts.
“Now come here,” he says. “You need to bathe. You’re a mess.”
It’s not cruel. It’s not warm, either.
It’s just…a command. And he’s my alpha…so I obey.
I hold back tears as I shuffle toward him, eager to get out of these clothes and into the bath. At the same time, I’m nervous about him seeing me naked, judging me, regretting his choice. I manage to pull the tatters of damp white fabric from my body, but then a searing pain pulses through me from my neck to my extremities.
The bite.
It needs tending. Care. Love.
I don’t think I’ll find any of that here.
Javi’s hands are suddenly at my neck, and I jerk my head up to find him concentrating on the collar. He undoes the clasp and tosses it on the bed, where it leaves a stain of red blood. It wasn’t all that tight, but I feel a sense of freedom without it that almostmakes me feel better. The self-consciousness and shame comes racing back, though, when Javi’s hands land on my shoulders, his eyes somewhere behind me.
He won’t even look at me.
“You don’t wear that when it’s just the two of us,” he rumbles.
He’s so ashamed of me that he doesn’t even want to look at his mark. He doesn’t want any sign that I’m his mate.
If that’s what I am at all.
“Okay,” I say.
“Get in the bath,” he orders.
He turns off the faucet as I step in, finding it almost scalding. I hiss out a breath, but I get in as he tells me, helpless to do anything else. I can already feel the power of the lycan bond working its magic, and without my bite on him, I’m subject to each and every one of his whims.
I’m entirely at his mercy and I don’t even know him.
I let the water cover me completely as Javi stalks away, checking every corner of the room. He peeks into the lamps, the drawers, the little trinkets my father has always kept around the Citadel. I keep my eyes on him as I reach for the soap, knowing it won’t wash away the way I feel and wishing it would.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice quiet.
“Looking for bugs,” he says. “I don’t know if they’re listening…watching.”
“They’re not that smart around here,” I say. “And they don’t have the tech—not since the Heavenly Host dipped out on the Gulf Pack.”
“You don’t know that,” he snaps.
