I stood apart from the other alphas. Watched them drink and boast and compare strategies, their voices too loud in the hushed space. Some had spread maps across the tables, marking terrain features, discussing optimal routes. Others lounged with the lazy confidence of men who had done this before, who treated The Chase as sport rather than survival.
A cluster near the fireplace laughed at something one of them said. I caught fragments of the conversation. Comparing scent samples. Rating omegas on a scale of one to ten. Debating which ones would be easy catches and which would require effort.
My jaw tightened until my teeth ached.
These men saw The Chase as entertainment. A weekend getaway with a guaranteed prize at the end. They would return to their lives afterward with bonded omegas on their arms,trophies to display at dinner parties, warm bodies to fill their beds. It didn't matter to them whether those omegas wanted to be there. The system was designed to ensure compliance, and compliance was enough.
None of them understood what was at stake. None of them cared.
Garrett appeared at my elbow with two glasses of water. He handed me one without comment. We'd agreed early that morning to stay sharp, stay sober, stay focused. The whiskey could wait until Dalvin was safe.
"I've got a name," Garrett said quietly. "Vernon's proxy. Drake Mercer."
I turned to look at him. "How?"
"Bartender's chatty when you tip well enough. Mercer's been making calls all morning, not bothering to lower his voice. Mentioned the senator by name twice." Garrett's mouth pressed into a thin line. "He's former military. Private security now. The kind of work that doesn't show up on LinkedIn."
"Retrieval specialist."
"That's the polite term." Garrett nodded toward the far corner of the room. "Blond, buzz cut, sitting alone. Hasn't touched a drink. Hasn't talked to anyone except on his phone."
I followed his gaze. Drake Mercer sat with his back to the wall, watching the room with the patient stillness of a predator conserving energy. Everything about him screamed professional. The way he held himself, coiled and ready. The way his eyes tracked movement without his head turning. The tactical watch on his wrist, the kind with GPS and encrypted communication built in.
He wasn't here for romance. He wasn't here for tradition. He was here to collect a target and deliver it to a client.
"He'll have backup," I said. "Outside the preserve, waiting for his signal."
"Already confirmed. My contact at the front gate clocked two vehicles with Virginia plates parked at the extraction point. Four men total, not counting Mercer."
Five against two. Those weren't odds I loved, but they weren't impossible either. Mercer would be focused on Dalvin. His backup would be focused on extraction. Garrett and I only needed to keep them off balance long enough for me to make the claim.
After that, the law was on our side. A completed bond couldn't be challenged by a previous alpha. Vernon could rage and threaten and deploy his army of lawyers, but Dalvin would be mine, and there wasn't a court in the country that could undo it.
"The plan stays the same," I said. "I find Dalvin. You run interference on Mercer."
"And if Mercer finds him first?"
I didn't answer. The possibility existed, sharp and cold in the back of my mind, but I refused to give it weight. Dalvin had a six-hour head start. He was smart, resourceful, had survived a year on the run from one of the most powerful men in the country. He wouldn't be easy to catch.
But the memory of the ceremony wouldn't leave me alone.
Dalvin across the hall in white linen, barefoot, his brown hair styled but his eyes wild with fear. The sharp line of his collarbone visible at the open throat of his shirt. The way his hands had clasped in front of him, knuckles white with tension. He was thinner than I remembered, angles where there should have been curves, his body pared down to essentials by a year of running.
And then the moment he'd looked up and seen me.
His lips had parted. His pupils had blown wide. His scent had bloomed, flooding the air with honeyed arousal so intense I'd felt it across twenty feet of stone floor, felt it wrap aroundme and demand response. My own body had answered before I could stop it, heat flooding my veins, my scent sharpening with possession and want.
He'd recognized me. After twelve years, he'd known me instantly.
And then he'd run.
Not toward the eastern ridge, where the smart omegas went, where the terrain offered cover and defensible positions. He'd run blind, panicked, fleeing from me with the same desperate energy he'd use to flee from Mercer.
I scared him. The thought sat heavy in my chest, an iron weight I couldn't set down. After everything Vernon had done to him, I scared him too.
The release horn shattered the silence.
Alphas surged toward the doors, a tide of aggression and adrenaline pouring into the afternoon light. Some sprinted immediately, eager and reckless. Others moved with more calculation, checking gear, consulting maps, forming loose alliances with other hunters.
