Page 16 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter (Moonbound Mates #3)

PEACHES

E very second spent on the Rig is a reminder of why I left.

The fact that I haven’t been given clothes to wear and have to walk around barefoot on rusted steel.

That I’m not allowed to speak or go outside without permission.

And to top it all off, I’m forced to hang onto someone who doesn’t even like me.

Ephraim and Abel take us to a room above the mess hall, climbing the creaky stairs to a big, cluttered space full of chairs. I haven’t been here since the night before I decided to leave the Rig—the hardest night of my life.

The night my mother died.

I keep my eyes down as we enter, Javi’s hand never leaving my body. One palm warm and steady against the curve of my back, the other resting heavy at my hip—possessive, protective. In other circumstances, it might bother me. But here?

It’s the only thing keeping me breathing.

Because every man in this room would take a bite out of me if he thought Javi’s grip slipped.

The moment the door shuts behind us, the room goes quiet. Thick, expectant. Tense.

Gideon makes a low sound of displeasure—half snort, half growl—and I can feel every set of eyes turn our way.

All of them alphas.

My heart kicks hard against my ribs.

My wolf yanks at my instincts, screaming at me to flee. To hide. To bare my throat and hope they ignore me.

"She’s not supposed to be here," Gideon says flatly.

His voice scrapes along my spine like broken glass.

Agreed. I’m supposed to be in Austin. I’m supposed to be free .

But I’m not.

And Javi answers before I can fall any further into the fear.

"Like I told your lackeys," he growls. "She goes where I go. She’s my mate. That’s how it should be."

The silence that follows hums with tension.

Someone shifts near the far wall. A boot scrapes against metal. I don’t look up.

"Yeah..." Gideon says slowly, drawling it out like we’re stupid children who’ve disappointed him. "We don’t really do things that way out here."

A pause.

"You have a lot to learn about the Rig, Javier."

I feel Javi stiffen beside me, his whole body coiling like a spring. His thumb flexes against my hip.

"I know how to follow orders," he says.

But the words sound like a threat.

I glance up from beneath my lashes—just a flicker of a look—and find his jaw clenched so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack. The veins in his neck stand out against the damp collar of his shirt. His beard is messy, his hair unkempt, his expression thunderous.

He’s barely holding himself back.

And I feel safer because of it.

"Eyes down, girl," Gideon snaps.

I stare at the floor again.

I hate it here, I hate it here, I hate it…

Javi’s whole body radiates rage. “Why am I here?”

“Just wanted to check in with the family,” Gideon says. “And to get to know you a little better—and help you get to know me.”

“I don’t need to be trained,” Javi argues.

“Don’t you worry, son,” Gideon says. “I’m approaching this from a place of mutual respect—especially since having a little chat with your friend Boyd this morning.”

Javi just gets more and more tense, like his body is winding up. I wonder when he’ll snap.

“We’re leaving,” Javi growls.

He starts to turn me around, but alphas crowd the door. We’re blocked in, stuck with Gideon.

“Not so fast,” Gideon says. “Sit. Down.”

Someone slides a chair out of the crowd and Javi stares at it. The scene is too familiar—because my mother sat in a chair just like this when Gideon put her on trial right before he threw her into the sea.

My heart pounds, and I take a shuddering breath.

“Calm down, girl,” my father scoffs. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to your mate. Now you just kneel beside him while he says his piece.”

Javi reluctantly heads toward the chair, then takes a seat. I kneel beside him as instructed, my head down, Javi’s hand on my shoulder. I don’t know what Gideon’s plan is, but there could only be one reason he brought us here: to hurt us.

And if he’s letting me stay, he wants me to hear whatever he’s about to say.

“Mr. Boyd told me all about you, Javier,” my fathe says. “Where you came from…what you were like when he picked you up.”

“That life is behind me,” Javi snaps. “I got clean.”

“Kraken addiction is a serious problem, doesn’t just go away,” Gideon says. “They had you dosed up, fucking and fighting down in Miami—isn’t that right?”

“Like I said?—”

“I’m asking for a yes or a no, Javier.”

Javi squeezes my shoulder—and I wish I knew him better so I could tell if he’s trying to comfort me or himself.

“Yes,” he breathes.

I chance another glance up before I get a warning growl from Ephraim. Javi looks unreadable as always, except for the tic in his jaw. A muscle twitches repeatedly in his neck, still winding up, up, up…

“Shit like that can break an alpha,” Gideon continues. “But you survived adversity. You escaped. And now… you’ve landed in just the right place to find redemption.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Javi says.

Gideon gets up from his throne, tall and broad-shouldered even as he gets older. I cower, keeping my head down as he walks slowly toward us. He’s focused only on Javi, though that doesn’t make me feel much better.

“I used to be an addict too, son,” Gideon says. “And with the help of the Heavenly Host, I was redeemed—as you can be too. Here on the Rig, we believe in the Gospel of Strength, and I am here to grant you salvation.”

A shadow falls over me as Gideon reaches out and puts his hand on Javi’s head. I half expect Javi to explode with rage, to give up on his composure—but I know it would mean death for us both.

“I’m giving you my daughter, Javier,” he continues. “The chance to continue my family line and keep preaching the Gospel of Strength on the Gulf. I hope you’ll come to think of me as kin.”

This is all a game—promising Javi power and safety.

And it must be tempting, right?

“What’s the catch?” Javi asks.

Gideon withdraws his hand, the performance paused. He hums thoughtfully as he stalks back to his throne. Each step echoes—too loud in the hushed tension of the chamber. Around us, the other alphas circle like carrion birds, barely leashed. Hungry. Waiting.

All I can think about is her .

My mother.

On her knees in this exact room, on this same cold floor, right in front of that throne.

It was the last time I saw her alive.

“You have to learn our ways,” Gideon says. “And you’re certainly strong enough, tough, brutal. But you haven’t been stern enough with her.”

I freeze.

“I didn’t let you take her because I wanted her to live pampered,” Gideon says. “Do you know what she did?”

“No.”

He has to know, right?

“She took our people. Stole mates. Separated alphas from omegas. Took our daughters—our little girls. She got her own mother killed, for God’s sake.”

Something snaps .

“I didn’t!”

The words rip out of me raw. My head jerks up, tears burning hot tracks down my cheeks. The sound is awful—too loud, too real—and the moment it leaves my lips, the whole room turns on me.

“You killed her!” I sob. “You— you! ”

My finger points like a blade, like I could cut right through him.

And I feel it the second I’ve gone too far.

The alphas snarl as one, their outrage rising in a chorus. The scrape of boots, the creak of shifting bodies. Javi’s grip tightens around my shoulder, locking me to him as the wolves begin to move.

Gideon surges up from his throne.

Ephraim and Abel stalk forward, their eyes flashing with murder.

But Javi—Javi moves faster.

He plants himself in front of me like a wall of flesh and fury, towering over Gideon, his teeth bared in a snarl that sends a hush rippling through the room.

He’s taller. Broader. More dangerous.

Javi is the biggest man here—and that is a threat in a pack of wolves.

“If you touch her,” he growls, low and lethal, “I’ll kill you.”

I drop to my knees behind him, clutching at the leg of his pants, my cheek pressed to the rough fabric. Trembling. Breathless. The air is too thick to breathe.

Oh no…I’ve made a huge mistake…this could be the end.

But Gideon just lets out a cruel laugh.

“As an alpha should behave,” Gideon says, his voice oily with approval. He turns to the others, sweeping his hand toward us. “Fellas, you could learn a thing or two—if you’d been so possessive, your females might not have run out on you.”

He glances back at Javi, a smirk curling on his face. “So what are you gonna do with her?”

Javi tenses beside me.

“What do you mean?” he asks, slow, dangerous.

“What are you gonna do to show her she’s misbehaved?” Abel pipes up with a nasty grin.

The room shifts. The other alphas perk up—like predators catching the scent of fresh blood. I go rigid against Javi’s side, unable to stop the tremble that racks through me. They want a show. They want to see me punished. And I don’t think Javi is the type to?—

“Come here,” he growls.

My breath catches. He reaches down and grabs me by the arm, not hard, but firm. He hauls me up and into the center of the room with him. His green eyes lock onto mine. There’s something in them I can’t name—anger, guilt, heat—and a silent apology that slices through me like a blade.

Then he sits.

And pulls me across his lap.

My knees hit the floor. The hem of his t-shirt rides up around my hips. My legs are trapped between his thighs, strong and unmovable. I try to twist away—try to wriggle free—but his arm locks across my lower back, holding me tight.

“Wait,” I gasp.

He doesn’t wait.

His palm lands hard on my ass. The crack of it echoes in the chamber. White-hot pain flares, blooming out through my body like a brand.

The alphas laugh.

He spanks me again—harder. My whole body jerks with the force of it, a whimper escaping before I can catch it.

“That what it takes to get you to behave?” Javi growls low, his voice like gravel in my ear.

The third slap lands. My thighs clench without permission.

My pussy aches. Heat licks down my spine and pools where it shouldn’t.

My face burns, my ears ringing with the sounds of their laughter, the sick pleasure in their eyes—but I can’t stop it.

I can’t stop the throb, the need, the way my body is betraying me.

“Little omega so desperate for discipline, you start dripping the second I lay a hand on you,” he murmurs, loud enough for them to hear, for me to hear.

Another slap. My hips buck. I bite down on my lip until I taste blood, the pain only grounding me in the sick, unbearable pleasure of being handled like this.

He leans down, his mouth brushing my ear as he brings his palm down again.

“You gonna keep mouthing off, sweetheart?” he rumbles. “Or you gonna learn your fuckin’ place?”

One last slap. My vision blurs. My body goes limp over his lap.

And then—without ceremony—Javi yanks my shirt back down, grabs me like I’m weightless, and tosses me over his shoulder.

“You make one more sound,” he snarls, just for me now, “and I will take you apart in front of them.”

I whimper, swallowing it back, my entire body trembling—not just from shame.

But from want.

His arm wraps around my thighs, possessive, protective, his hand splayed over the backs of my legs to shield me from their eyes. My face is pressed to his bare back, and all I can feel is heat—his skin, my shame, the wet ache between my thighs.

“I’ll take care of this,” he snarls.

The room goes still.

And then it parts for him.

He walks out like a storm given flesh, my body draped over him, limp with confusion and unwanted need. I catch a glimpse of my father’s smug smile, Ephraim’s thin-lipped fury, Abel’s unholy glee.

And then we’re through the door.

I don’t know what he’s going to do next.

But I can’t deny the way my body is trembling for more.