Page 59 of Hunting Their Omega

Wynn smirked. “Unless you have telekinesis, I think you’ll have to tear into it.”

I shot him a heatless glare and ripped the paper, discovering a sleek, black rolling case beneath. I gave them a curious glance before turning my attention to my present. The latch released with a sharp click, and I opened the lid, awestruck at what was inside.

Canvases, paints, brushes, and sketching pads—everything I would need to create my art.

My tongue thickened in my mouth. “I can’t . . . you didn’t have to—” My eyes were hot, and tears lined my lashes. “Thank you.”

“You should have told us if you wanted art supplies,” Wynn said gently.

“I already had supplies I was using at the nursery,” I said lamely.

“Which looks incredible, by the way,” Bishop added with a smile. “But that’s still not the same as having your own. You need to let us know if there is anything you want. We’re working on getting you a card with the family account, and then you won’t have to ask.”

I took a step forward, my heart fluttering like a hummingbird. “Oh, no, that’s too much.”

“Do you like to paint?” Alaric asked.

“Yes.”

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and nipped my earlobe. “Does it make you happy?”

I nodded.

“That’s all that matters. We have more money than we know what to do with, and if we can use some of it to make you smile, it’s well spent.”

Before I could respond, a comms unit beeped. Wynn headed upstairs to his office, and Alaric followed, taking the steps two at a time.

Bishop grabbed my hands and placed a small kiss on my knuckles. “One day, all your memories of the boarding house will be drowned out by the happiness we bring you.”

The promise took my breath away.

Bishop joined Wynn and Alaric upstairs, and I looked through my art supplies. My mind spun with ideas. I saw green forests and brown roots, and my fingers tingled with the need to create.

A wave of anger ran through the bond, and I jumped to my feet as it was silenced.

They were hiding something, and I was tired of being in the dark. I crept up the stairs and stopped outside Wynn’s office. There was a small gap between the frame and the thick oak door, just enough to let sound through. Stealthily, I pressed myself to the wall.

“Is there a child yet?” a raspy, haggard voice asked.

“No,” Wynn replied.

“Interesting how your Omega seems to be the only one who wasn’t bred.” My stomach churned. “Hidden Creek wouldn’t be up to their old antics now, would they?”

Wynn’s growl ripped through the office, the threat clear. “Isolde is our mate, not the Council’s broodmare. When she is with child, we will abide by the laws like every other sanctioned pack.”

My heart thundered. The air felt too dense to inhale, and my legs turned to jelly. I fled from my hiding spot and flew down the stairs.

I had to get away, but even with my mates, there was nowhere to run.

The joy I’d felt moments before dimmed, overshadowed by the Council’s request.

They wanted my child.

Every Omega I bore would be theirs.

I gripped my stomach protectively. Dread and panic left an acidic residue in my mouth. I couldn’t give up my child, and I refused to condemn them to the same misery I’d survived.

On autopilot, I ran through the pack square toward the nursery. The building was quiet when I arrived, so I let myself in and stared at the unfinished mural. Finally, I picked up a brush, breathing in and out with every stroke and slash of color. Seconds, minutes, and hours went by until I stood before an array of smiling baby animals.

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