Page 25 of Stolen By the Alpha Hunter (Moonbound Mates #3)

PEACHES

I find myself glad that I bit Javi—even if it was on accident—last night. I can feel him as he gets on the boat and coasts away, and every bit of anxiety and rage and apprehension hits me as it sweeps through his system.

It’s not a good day…but he’s safe. Alive .

For my part, I’m mostly left alone. One of my father’s mates stops by to bring me some food, but she doesn’t talk to me, even when I try to start a conversation. I even think she would betray me if she had the chance, so I put the damn collar on and make sure I’m silent and docile when she arrives.

I hate it.

This isn’t who I am.

Back at home, the omegas spend every day with each other. I usually meet up with Maggie in the morning for lunch, then head to the pools to clean up or just to lounge around. I’m always running into people—Charlotte, Tilda, Mateo…and I have friends among the alphas of the pack too.

Just one big happy family.

I was so naive to think that could last.

For a second, I let myself daydream about what it might be like to bring Javi home to them—who he’d befriend, who he’d clash with.

I think Grant would annoy him, he would respect Reyes, he and Elijah might hit it off.

I have a feeling he and Colt would be fast friends—they’re the same kind of stubborn, tough, resilient.

It makes me wonder if they’re thinking about me, if they’re worried, if they’ve already figured out where I am.

If they’re coming to save me.

I banish the thought.

I need to focus on the here and now.

I’m bored by mid-afternoon, already having gone through all the piles of loot in the room and even having rinsed out my hair.

I gave myself a cursory wash, but I think Javi was right in that it’s smart to keep his scent on me—so even though I’m a little gross, I don’t bother bathing.

I can feel Javi’s energy simmering somewhere a couple miles away, and I’m afraid I won’t feel him as much if I wash off his scent.

Not that I know how any of this works.

My head snaps up when someone knocks on the door, surprising me. I didn’t expect to get visitors, and the scent is unmistakable—my brother, not one of the omegas and definitely not Javi. I get up and pad over to the door, opening it just a crack.

Ephraim stands on the other side, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his face in a scowl.

I want to ask him what he wants, but I’m terrified to speak without being told it’s okay.

“I need you to come with me,” he says.

I glance back at the room, afraid of where he might be taking me. Out of the three leaders of the Gulf Pack—my father, my brother, and Abel—Ephraim has been the most innocuous…but that doesn’t mean he’s harmless.

I’ve seen him do horrible things.

And I know he’s probably still angry about June, may she rest in peace.

“Where?” I ask quietly, venturing to open my mouth.

“Can’t say here,” he says, lowering his voice. “And be quick about it.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” I breathe.

He grunts under his breath. “I’m not gonna hurt you—just hurry.”

I look back and forth down the hall before I follow him out and up the stairs.

There are a few things up here where the beams get more rickety and the tower sways—the room where they kept me when I first arrived among them.

I think he might lock me up again or toss me into the ocean…

but he takes me somewhere very unexpected.

The comms room.

As far as I know, this is the only place on the Rig where you can get messages in or out. Back before I escaped with the other omegas, we hijacked this system to get a hold of some mercenaries from up north, who orchestrated a way out.

It’s also where my father gets transmissions from the Heavenly Host, though they were already contacting him less and less by the time I left as they got distracted with other battles.

Ephraim crosses his arms and tilts his chin toward the comm station, where a radio is waiting.

“It’s for you,” he says.

I watch him with wide eyes as I take a step toward it, wondering what the heck he’s playing at. He rolls his eyes at me and wave his hand.

“Hurry,” he says. “I wasn’t fuckin’ around. We’ve only got so much time.”

I look down at it and put on the headset, then push down on the receiver.

“Hello?” I say.

“Damn—Peaches? Is that really you?”

I try to hold back tears, but it doesn’t work.

“Tilda?” I ask, my voice cracking.

“It’s her!” Tilda says on the other line. “Get Frankie!”

My hand flies up to cover my mouth, my eyes blurry. I can’t believe they’ve been trying to get a hold of me—that they reached me at all—that Ephraim is the one who brought me here…

Ephraim, who looks like he couldn’t care less if I live or die.

I can hear scrambling on the other line, then someone else picks up the phone. It’s Frankie, the alpha who can make anything happen. Her voice is steady and low, a hint of rage simmering beneath the surface.

“Are you okay?” she says.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I say, though I don’t feel like I’m okay at all. I want to go home right now, the ache of hearing my family’s voices almost too painful.

“Glad you’re alright,” she says. “We figured it was the Gulf Pack that took you, but we assumed the worst…”

“I’m alive,” I say. “It’s not good here, but I’m alive.”

“A man named Boyd contacted us and said you’re in danger?”

I take a shuddering breath, nodding even though they can’t see me. Ephraim taps his foot against the floor in the corner, giving me a warning look.

“I don’t know what my dad has planned,” I say. “He’s keeping all the women here locked up. It’s horrible.”

“How many men does he have?” Reyes’ voice comes in the background.

I frown and think hard about it, looking back to the night when Javi caught me on the hunt.

“Um…about thirty, I think,” I say. “I don’t know how many women are here. We have to get them out.”

“You’re our first priority,” Frankie says. “And we only have so many resources.”

That’s what we said when we escaped last time…but something compels me to agree. Javi, maybe—because as long as I’m in danger, he will be too.

“I understand,” I say.

“We need you to be ready to go at a moment’s notice,” Frankie says. “We’re gonna help you first—and then take care of the others when we can get our bearings. It’s time to deal with the Gulf Pack once and for all.”

I glance over at Ephraim, afraid that he might react to that. To my surprise, he doesn’t seem to care, even though I’m confident he heard it.

He just taps his wrist where an old, broken watch is clasped.

Time to go.

“I have to leave,” I say, “but I’ll be ready. Just…you need to make sure you can bring two of us.”

“Two of you?” Frankie asks. “Peaches—we have to focus on you.”

“No, I get that,” I say. “But I found my mate, and I won’t leave without him.”

They’re quiet on the other end of the line for a moment, then Tilda clears her throat.

“We’ve got you,” she says. “Don’t let them steal your sunshine.”

I smile through the tears. “I won’t.”

“Good,” she says. “See you soon.”

And the line goes dead.

I take the headset off slowly, then set it on its stand with reverence. Ephraim gestures at me, shaking his head.

“Gotta get you back to your room before someone catches us,” he says. “You’re not supposed to be up here.”

I nod, starting to follow him—then I catch his wrist before he can go through the door.

“Ephraim, wait,” I say.

He glares over his shoulder at me. “Haven’t I done enough for you?”

I freeze.

I want to fight him on this.

Because no…he’s barely done a damn thing for me.

“Why?” I ask. “Why are you helping me?”

He turns around with a reluctant groan.

“I’m not helping you,” he says. “I just want you gone, and dad will never kill you. And I can’t exactly do it, so…”

A chill runs through me. I can tell in that moment that he means it—that he would kill me if he had the chance. There’s murderous intent in his eyes, something ugly and monstrous.

I ignore it.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “He hates me.”

“You more than anyone should know that dad doesn’t hate or love anyone,” he says. “He just sees people as tools—and he wants something from you, so he’s going to work his ass off to get it.”

“What does he want?”

Ephraim cocks his head. “Haven’t you noticed there’s something wrong on the Rig, Esther?”

I narrow my eyes, searching my mind for what I’ve seen since I got back. Sure, the Gulf Pack is messed up, but that’s not exactly new. I consider everything I’ve talked about with Javi, how we’ve unpacked the terrible circumstances we’re in piece by piece…

And something strange occurs to me.

My father’s mates—the hidden omegas on the Rig—the betas in the mess. There are plenty of women here, but there’s something missing that I’m starting to see plenty of in Austin.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. “The babies. There are no babies.”

Ephraim barks out a bitter laugh. “You’re not as stupid as I thought you were,” he says.

I don’t bother to argue with him. He wouldn’t listen anyway, and I’m more intent on understanding what’s going on here.

“Why?” I ask.

“We don’t know,” he says. “Dad’s convinced it has something to do with the way he’s assigned mates to his alphas…which is why he did it the way he did with you and Javier. He wants to use you as a test—to see if you can produce children to keep us going.”

“What is he gonna do if we can’t?”

“Well…” he says. “If you end up staying, I don’t think you want to find out.”

I chew on my lip, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Ephraim, be honest—why are you helping me?”

He glares at me. “Because I want you gone…and if you have a baby and show it’s possible, we’ll be stuck here forever. I don’t want to help you, I just don’t want you with our pack. You don’t have a place here.”

I furrow my brow. “I completely agree.”

Sighing, he turns and leads me back down the stairs, and I go silent again. I don’t want the other omegas hearing me, or any other alphas who might be lurking.

Thankfully, we make it all the way back to my room. I’m about to shut the door behind me when Ephraim stops me.

“I answered your question,” he says. “Now you answer mine.”

I cross my arms. “Fine.”

“Why’d you take her?” he asks.

I know exactly who he’s talking about—June, the girl he’d chosen as a mate…and one of the women who escaped the Rig with me years ago. I gulp, knowing what I’m about to say won’t make him happy.

“I didn’t do anything,” I say. “She wanted to leave, so she left.”

“But why?” he says. “Didn’t I make her happy?”

I stare at him.

He’s not joking. Not baiting me, not playing some twisted game. He’s asking like he genuinely doesn’t understand—like he really believes she should’ve been happy here, chained and collared and raped and bred like the rest of us.

And all at once, the grief hits me. Sharper than it has in years.

June, with her shy smile and soft voice. June, who used to tuck wildflowers into her braids and hum lullabies she barely remembered. June, who helped plan the escape and ran beside me in the dark—only to vanish into the sea.

I never saw her again.

And now I have to stand here while her would-be mate stares at me, baffled. As if her dying breath was still somehow a betrayal.

“No,” I whisper. “You didn’t make her happy.”

He flinches. Just for a second.

“She was terrified of you,” I add. “Of all of this. And if you’d loved her—really loved her—you would’ve seen it.”

His expression hardens. “She should’ve stayed.”

“She should’ve lived.”

The silence between us is sharp enough to bleed.

Ephraim turns without another word. He stalks down the hall, boots echoing against the metal grates until they fade into silence. I wait until I can’t hear him anymore, then close the door and press my back to it, breathing hard.

My hands are shaking. My heart is aching.

For June.

For the girls who didn’t make it out.

For the ones still trapped here—hiding behind numbered doors and silent eyes, waiting for someone to save them.