Page 10 of Vicious Kings
"I wasn't planning on making friends."
"Good." He stops just out of arm's reach. "Remember your training. It may serve you in unexpected ways."
"My training was for killing, not..." I can't finish the sentence.
"Your training was for survival. Everything else was just application."
We stand there, the space between us feeling like miles. Then, shocking me to my core, he steps forward and pulls me into a hug.
I freeze. I can't remember the last time my father hugged me. Maybe when I was twelve, the night we learned about my mother, but it was all too much of a blur to be certain. His arms are strong around me, and he smells like weapon oil and pine smoke.
"Come back," he whispers against my hair. "Complete your mission and come home."
The weight of those words hits me as I stand there, but they're not nearly as heavy as the realization that follows.
It's a pipe dream. Even if I manage to succeed at the task my mother failed and kill Prince Corvinus, I'll still return an omega. Would there even be a place for me here anymore? And as what? Certainly not a hunter.
Before I can respond, he's releasing me, stepping back with his usual stern expression firmly in place. "Go. They're waiting."
I stumble out, my mind reeling. Two hugs in one day. Must be a record.
The guards flank me again, leading me to what looks like a loading dock. An armored vehicle waits, engine running. The female guard, a new transfer I vaguely recognize from the training grounds, gestures for me to stop.
"Arms up," she orders.
I comply, and she pats me down with thorough efficiency. Her hands check every pocket, every seam, even the lining of my boots.
"You're sending me without weapons?" I ask when she's done. "How exactly am I supposed to complete my mission?"
She smirks, cold and knowing. "All you'll need is what's between your legs,omega. The rest you can figure out when you get there."
The words hit like a slap. I want to grab her by the throat, show her exactly what these hands can do with or without weapons. But I force myself to stay still. She's not wrong. That's the worst part. In their eyes, I'm not a hunter anymore. I'm just an omega. A tool.
They shove me into the back of the vehicle, and I'm grateful for the darkness. It hides the rage I know is written all over my face.
The ride is rough, the vehicle bouncing over uneven terrain. No windows back here, just metal walls and a single bench. I count the turns, try to map our route in my head, but after the twentieth switchback, I give up. They're taking a deliberately confusing path.
Hours pass. My ass goes numb from the hard bench. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't eaten since yesterday.
Or was it the day before?
Time blurs when you're a prisoner.
Finally, the vehicle stops. The doors open, and late afternoon light floods in. We're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Treesstretch in every direction, dense and dark. The guards climb out, gesturing for me to follow.
"There," one of them points to a mountain in the distance, its peak shrouded in mist. "You know what's at the base."
The portal. The entrance to the Fae realm. Every hunter knows its location, even if we can't get close. The wards make sure of that and the creatures prowling these woods do the rest.
"You're leaving mehere?" I look around at the wilderness. "I'll be dead before I make it halfway."
"Not our problem." The male guard starts back toward the vehicle.
"Wait." The female guard pulls something from her belt. A knife. Basic, utilitarian, barely fit for opening a letter. "Here."
I take it, testing the weight. It's shit compared to my usual blades, but it's better than nothing. "How generous."
She's already turning away when something pricks my neck. I spin, hand going to the spot, and find the male guard stepping back with an empty syringe.
