Page 18

CHAPTER NINE

GRACE

…

Grace?

“Haaah!” I wake up startled by a voice that sounds so much like my sister’s, only to be greeted by a disorienting rush of hot, damp darkness.

Again!

Just like when I woke up on the beach in this living nightmare.

I flail, suffocating under the weight of my erratic breathing.

The events of the last few days come back to me in fits and starts.

Father’s bodyguards in my bedroom, dragging me out.

The flashing of the paparazzi’s cameras.

Parting with Hoku and Faith at the port before I boarded my private jet.

Her screams over the phone as she was crushed under a stampede.

Her yacht on fire. The pilot’s severed head.

The crash. Raphels’ fucking cock choking me while his pack watched. The chase. And…

The leader of the fox-masked alphas claimed me. And now, I’m his de facto pack queen, mate, and wife.

The last thought causes me to scream, clawing my neck where the pack leader sank his fangs into me during my heat.

“Ssssh! Not so loud, princess. Or the whole island will know we’re here.”

A hand shoots out and claps my mouth shut. It’s large, pale, brutally scarred, and oh so warm. I try to fight, but it’s no use as the stranger easily pins me down onto a… Bed? Not quite. It’s like a bundle of furs shaped like a bed should be, with some regular pillows pillowing my head.

“Don’t tell her not to scream. That’ll just make her scream harder,” a voice of reason says, attached to a man I hate.

Great, I’m alone with jackass and stabby.

Slowly, my eyes adjust as I hear sparks, and I know just outside my line of vision a pile of wood is being set on fire.

Even a city girl like me can distinguish the scent of a campfire burning so close beside me.

An orange-red glow illuminates half of Leo’s face, freckles distorted.

The fiery light matches his long hair that falls over his shoulders and down his back as he peers down at me.

Raphael is standing behind Leo, mostly veiled in shadows, and Leo is still clamping my mouth shut. So hard I can’t breathe.

“Will you scream? No screaming,” he asks, speech stunted, awkward, like some caveman, his green eyes sparkling like emeralds in the dim light.

I nod, and he releases me, and I don’t scream.

I remember our deal. I remember how Nakoa stopped Leo’s mating frenzy, too.

I was so far gone, partially floating outside my body.

But I do remember the predatory glint in his gaze.

Those dripping fangs wet with saliva and the enzyme that distinguishes a bitemark from a mating mark, since one doesn’t heal and last a lifetime.

And then, Nakoa stopped him from biting me, marking me.

Nakoa upheld his half of our bargain. At least partially. And that gives me a small amount of hope he’ll honor the rest. It’s flimsy, maybe even false, but I can only cling to hope now that I’m being held captive by them.

Leo relaxes, sitting criss-cross beside my head.

Raphael is moving around the cave–at least, I think it’s a cave–we’re camped out in.

I look down at my body, and once again I’ve been washed, to my embarrassment.

Most of my bandages are gone, and even stranger, the cuts and bruises that should still be there.

At the very least, a scar or two. However, there are fresh bandages around my neck and my snake-bitten hand.

I test my left ankle, and by the way it doesn’t five, I have something bigger and sturdy wrapped around it.

Maybe a splint? There’s a light tingling near my thumb, greenish salve smeared beneath the coverings as I open and close my fist. Another poultice, I guess.

I have to hand it to them, they do know how to patch a girl. I just wish they hadn’t all conspired to break me before they decided to heal me.

“What!?” I shout in surprise as Leo reaches out to squeeze my tits like he’s honking a horn. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Raphael sends a swift kick to his back before I even notice he’s near us. Leo growls, and is kicked in the jaw next.

“Knock it off and take another suppressant, dumbass. We can’t fuck her right now. Not without our alpha present,” he says, digging his boot into Leo’s bare chest.

He’s back in his full army fatigues, his pants not rolled down to reveal that impress…

No, damn it, focus! I just got groped by Leo. And what’s this about suppresants? They have them? I grumble, now wondering if they purposely didn’t bring them along to corner me like a rat, and if so, did I fall into a trap.

“I did! Don’t pretend you can’t smell her! Nakoa–” Raphel takes his foot off Leo’s chest long enough to put it on his neck.

“Shut up! I told him so many times to stop babying you. You need to hold rank, always, even if he’s not here. And I say no, as your second-in-command. We don’t know what’s wrong with her and if it might be contagious.”

“Contagious!?” I squeak, voice scratchy from a lack of water it seems.

They turn to me, and I no longer find the clown show funny, nor can I pretend they’re just bullheaded pack brother’s duking it out.

Raphael moves to speak, then clamps up. He turns away, black hair cascading down to shield his face. I’m doing my best not to freak out but the silent routine isn’t helping.

“Off!” Leo croaks out and Raphel finally stops applying pressure,

He rubs his throat at the same time Raphael rubs his, his skull tattoo now partially hidden by a black bandana he has tied there. And on front is a crude sketch of a white fox with blood-red eyes.

“Shut up, Leo. My patience isn’t growing thin, it’s gone. I don’t have time to babysit the both of you,” he grumbles as Leo finally stands up.

They rep their pack more than sports fanatics, I think as the fox logo disappears in the darkness as the flame flicks away from Raphael to Leo, who looks irate.

I can’t keep watching this, so I sit up, ready to get up and demand the truth, when suddenly, the two bickering alphas stiffen, and this time, Raphael takes a knee alongside Leo. Guess he’s in trouble with Nakoa.

I don’t turn to look at my mate. My mate? Just saying it makes my skin crawl. But it’s the truth whether I want to believe it or not. Nakoa kneels beside me after dropping something heavy that smells like blood near the campfire. He leans closer and sniffs my hair while the other watches.

“Impossible…” he murmurs, reaching for my unbandaged hand, and I slap his hand away. Our deal was a trade of my pussy for protection and a taste of power. I don’t want to play house with any of them. Especially not him.

I turn when our pack alpha doesn’t say anything, and watch him watch his hand I slapped away.

Will he strike me? I hope not. Raphael is cruel, but transparent.

But Nakoa? There’s something sinister that lurks beneath the surface that’s always a careful mask of neutrality.

At least since we met. And I don’t trust an alpha that pretends to give a damn about an omega one bit.

“Oh,” he breathes out, as if snapped out of a trance. Then, Nakoa grimaces, balling it into a fist that soon hangs by his side. He forces a smile, but now I know there’s nothing but malice behind it as his eyes narrow into slits, resembling a fox even more so then when we first met.

“I’m Nakoa, the fox’s pack leader— your pack alpha. We didn’t properly introduce ourselves before, Grace Wilder,” he says, voice smooth like silk.

“I didn’t ask,” I murmur, already memorizing their names. And I don’t want to know anything else about any of them.

He continues, undeterred, pointing to the wild-looking red head hunched in the corner like a goblin, sporting a petulant pout, “That’s Leo. He’s third, young, but talented and resourceful. And he’s the one who saved you and protected you after you crashed.”

“Yeah, I know the creepy stalker. Intimately. You should be aware. You were there,” I grit out, and Leo’s gaze falls to his feet.

Unbothered by my dry attempt at humor, and with a murderous look in his eyes not directed at me, Nakoa nods to the one who nearly bit my now swollen hand off.

Great! And I was just feeling better. If he gets chewed out by Nakoa, will he displace his anger on me now that he doesn’t have a forced rut distracting him?

“And that’s Raphael, my second-in-command. Your alpha if I should fall in battle. He has a temper, but a good heart,” Nakoa says, like going to battle is as common for them as a walk in the park.

I don’t bother saying I don’t care. I’m sure my body language and face convey it all for me.

“Can I see your hand? I want to see the damage,” he whispers, and I let him. I mean, I don’t want to die from something as silly as a snake bite or a broken bone after everything I’ve survived. And Raphel was spouting nonsense like I’m contagioyus. I don’t want to admit it, but he has me scared.

Slowly, Raphael unwinds the bandage. I’m shocked by the size of the paw that used to be my hand.

“Didn’t you say you had antivenom?” I ask, voice quivering like a coward. Thankfully, I can’t feel the pain. “Why is it so swollen?”

Nakoa’s lip twitches, and then one of his eyes, switching to his left to check me. Maybe he’s ambidextrous, because he seems just as skilled with his right hand as he is right now with his left.

“It’s inflamed, but not from the bite. You’d be dead if that was the case. It’s from…” he trails off, and I don’t need him to confirm it.

Shit, maybe Raphael more damage when he bit me than I thought, my body totally focused on fucking to the point I couldn’t tell.

It’s a sobering thought.

My mate’s tone shifts to reassurance that I don’t feel, “It’s bad but not… the worst thing I’ve seen,” he says, lifting my palm and the overlapping puncture wounds closer to his lips, as if that should make me feel better.