Page 3 of The Alpha's Bullied Rejected Mate
Now wasn’t the time to remember her.
His amber eyes darted back to the streets, keeping watch over the bookstore across.
The door swung open for the thirty-eight time since he arrived. Three figures walked out, but his eyes zeroed in on a particular lean figure in beige pants and an oversized coat. Her hair was looser tonight, and a bag was slung over her right shoulder.
Target identified.
His wolf growled low inside him, but Marcus remained still, his eyes tracking her movement.
He watched as she waited by the roadside, watching the pedestrian light, waiting for it to turn green. She had perfectly blended into civilian life, and he commended her for that, but he was no fool. He had seen witches wear prettier masks, and he had hunted them down all the same.
An attendant approached his table. “What would you like to have, sir?” he inquired.
“Nothing,” Marcus replied as he stood up in his full 6’5” frame, towering over the attendant.
“I’ve found what I’m looking for.” And he tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the table for a tip just before exiting the bar.
He had ten more seconds until the light changed.
He stepped out of the bar and positioned himself at the curb.
The hunt was on.
And Marcus Vale always caught his prey.
