20. Hunter
Hunter
I’m chomping at the bit, my beast pacing just beneath the surface, ready to tear into something—someone—the moment I’m given a reason. The second Koa told us what happened to her, it was like a fire ignited inside of me, a blistering rage I haven’t felt in years. Someone hurt her. Someone made her feel like she was nothing, like she wasn’t worth protecting. And that knowledge is eating me alive.
Every breath I take is calculated because I know I’m one wrong move away from snapping. Moses isn’t doing much better. I can feel the tension radiating off him like heat, his jaw clenched tight as we follow Koa up the path to her house. But he’ll hold it together—for her. We both will. Because this isn’t just about us. This is her space, her nightmare, and we’re not going to make it worse. Not unless someone inside that house disrespects her. Then all bets are off.
She’s back in that damn dress from last night, the one Amel threw through a quick wash, and seeing her in it again makes my chest ache. It clings to her curves like it was made for her, but it’s a reminder of everything she’s been through in the last twenty-four hours. She shouldn’t have to wear it again, but there wasn’t much of a choice.
The house is.. cute, I guess. Smaller than I expected. The paint on the shutters is peeling, the yard could use some work, but it’s homey in a way that doesn’t quite fit the people we’re about to meet. The second I step inside, I feel it—the weight of the tension, thick and suffocating, like a storm about to break.
There’s an Alpha standing by the kitchen table, nearly as large as Amel, his eyes narrowing as he takes us in. He’s trying to act unfazed, but I can see the way his muscles tense, the subtle shift in his stance. Good. Let him be on edge.
In the living room, two kids are playing quietly, an Omega around Koa’s age hovering nearby. She doesn’t look up, her shoulders hunched as she folds laundry with shaking hands. At the head of the table, though, is the real problem—Koa’s father. His presence fills the room like a shadow, his sharp eyes and stone-cold expression making it clear he’s the one who used to call the shots here.
But it’s Damien who draws my attention. He’s standing by the table, arms crossed, his lips curling into a sneer as soon as Koa steps through the door. “Nice of you to show up,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I feel my blood boil, my fists clenching at my sides as I take a step forward, but Moses’ hand on my shoulder holds me back.
What surprises me, though, is Damien’s complete lack of fear. Most Alphas—hell, most people—are terrified of Valla. Our presence alone is enough to send a room into silence, our reputation for violence keeping everyone in line. But not Damien. No, he’s standing there, glaring at his sister like she’s dirt under his shoe, like we’re not even here.
Damien’s voice cuts through the tense air like a blade. “Sit, Koa.”
Koa hesitates for a moment, her eyes darting to me and Moses, who are standing just behind her before she slips into a seat. Amel sits down beside her, the Alpha keeping it together a lot better than we are. My jaw tightens at the way Koa kind of curls into herself—at the way Damien’s words alone can shrink her down into something smaller than she is. My beast snarls inside me, clawing at the edges of my control, but I wait.
Damien leans forward, his hands resting on the table as his gaze flicks between me, Moses, and Amel. “So,” he says, his tone dripping with mock civility, “if you’re considering taking Koa over the Alpha I had planned for her, I assume you’ve discussed what you’re offering the family in return?”
Koa’s head hangs in shame, her fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly that her hand starts shaking. I can feel the frustration radiating off her in waves, but she doesn’t say anything.
“What are you talking about?” she finally mutters. She doesn’t lift her head, doesn’t meet his gaze. “Where is the other Alpha?”
Damien smirks, leaning back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest. “I didn’t actually call him here this morning. I lied to get you back here.”
I expect Koa to curl into herself a little further but there’s an anger simmering beneath the surface, her nose scrunched up as she tries to find the right words. If it’s anything like the way she spoke to us this morning, I’m more than excited to see her put her brother in his place. And we’ll be right behind her if he decides to try something.
“You had one job, Koa,” Damien continues, his voice hardening. “One simple job—to choose an Alpha who would bring money back into this family. That’s all you had to do. And instead, you chose the St. Clair pack?” His laugh is bitter, cutting. “Tell me, how exactly is that supposed to help us?” Koa lets out a soft growl of frustration, but it only makes Damien step closer, his eyes narrowing as though daring her to challenge him. “You’re so fucking selfish,” he snaps. “Everything is always about you, isn’t it?”
The frustration boils over, and Koa finally snaps, her voice trembling with rage as she growls, “Because I’m done being a pawn in your little game, Damien! I’m not your property and I’m not going to let you sell me off to the highest bidder!”
Damien’s face darkens, his body tensing as he takes a step toward her. “Watch your tone—”
But he doesn’t get the chance to finish. I’m already moving, my hand shooting out to grab him by the throat. His eyes widen in shock as I shove him back, slamming him against the wall hard enough to rattle the frames hanging there. The room goes deathly silent, the tension so thick you could choke on it.
Grinning down at him, I tighten my grip just enough to make him sweat, my voice dropping a few octaves, words dripping with menace. “Try launching yourself at her again. I dare you.”
Damien’s hands come up to claw at mine, his breaths shallow and slightly panicked, but I don’t let go. I let him feel it, let him understand exactly how close he is to losing everything.
“Hunter,” Amel’s voice is steady, cutting through the silence. “Enough.”
I release him with a shove, watching as he stumbles forward, clutching at his throat and coughing. He looks up at me, his eyes wide with fear and fury, but he doesn’t say a word. I turn to Koa, about to gauge her expression when I see she’s got this little quirk of a smile tugging at her lips. It’s a tiny thing, barely there, but it’s enough to catch me off guard. After everything that just happened, after the tension and the shouting and the threat of violence hanging in the air, she’s smiling.
“There’s some stuff I need to grab,” she whispers before gesturing to the back hall.
I nod, falling into step beside her as she leads the way to her room. Moses is right behind us, his presence a silent but heavy reminder to anyone in this house who might be stupid enough to try something. Not that I think anyone will. Damien looked like a kicked dog when I left him slumped against the wall.
Koa’s room is small and neat, but it doesn’t feel like her. It’s too clean, too sterile, like she’s been keeping herself locked away instead of living in it. She moves quickly, grabbing a bag and shoving her things into it—clothes, toiletries, a few little trinkets that must mean something to her. She’s quiet as she works, her movements rushed, like she’s afraid someone might try to stop her.
Then she moves to the closet, pulling it open and reaching in for something tucked into the back corner. My jaw clenches as she pulls out a pile of pillows, soft and fluffy, the kind of thing an Omega would use to build a nest. But what pisses me off is that they’re hidden, shoved back like a dirty little secret. Like being an Omega is something to be ashamed of.
I hate it. Hate that she’s had to live like this, like a part of her has been forced into the shadows. But I don’t say anything. We just move to help her, grabbing her bags and pillows without a word.
She’s still got that little smile on her face, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands shake slightly as she zips up the bag. “Okay,” she murmurs, more to herself than to us. “I think that’s everything.”
We head back out, Koa leading the way with her head held high even though I can tell she’s nervous. She’s bracing herself, and I don’t blame her. Not with Damien still lurking in the house. Sure enough, the second we hit the living room, Damien’s voice cuts through the air. “Koa—”
Koa doesn’t pay him any mind, grabbing Amel’s hand and then scurrying out to the car.