"Going to pack your things already?" Sebastian stared straight at me.

"I'm not one of the Omegas that are going with you," I said keeping my tone normal.

"But you are an Omega, aren't you?" he raised his dark brown eyebrow.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Alpha bated me to it. "Sebastian, you should pick someone a little more... Obedient."

He looked at me as if I was a bug under his shoes. "Elizabeth always has had a problem with discipline," he continued.

A moment later, my chin was caught by a callous thumb and finger,  and my face was jerked up. Sebastian looked over my face and turned it to one side, then the other. As if observing whether or not the product he wanted to fulfill his demands.

"An Omega who's not obedient to Lycan?" Sebastian said. "I wonder why no one has taught you otherwise yet."

***

Every ten years, the Alpha King will host a competition to choose the Alpha Supreme, and the competition always has twenty competitors participate but only a quarter survive.

When Elizabeth Grey is offered freedom in exchange for accompanying Alpha Sebastian Walt on the Hunt, she has no reason to refuse.

After eight weeks of blood, mayhem, fruitless feeling, and dark secrets, a cursed Alpha with a made Omega are on the Hunt for a deadly game. 

Will things ever remain the same?

The Alpha's Fated Omega

　　The moon comes out from behind the clouds, a half moon. Incomplete. I pinch the bridge of my nose after I fold up the map. If we keep going like that, there is going to be a stack of odds against us.


　　I glance at Hazel, even while sleeping, her brows are furrowed. My mind wanders to her words only a few hours ago. If we could take a shorter route, we could most definitely win. Well, at least I could win. But she can't take it.


　　A part of me wants to throw caution out of the window and just take a shorter path, no matter how dangerous. I shouldn't worry about weather or not Hazel can make it. She's on the Hunt for her own reasons, if she dies, it's on her. But despite everything, you can't throw someone in the path of death.


　　With a sigh, I lean my back against a tree and prop my knees up, using them as armrests. My mind shutters between morals and goals.


CHAPTER 28