"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 moment my eyes open, I feel the overwhelming pain in my head, as if it's about to explode into bits.


　　The effect of the wolfsbane dose I took last night before sleeping wears off and my senses return again. The fire has died down, leaving a pile of embers and ash. My eyes go across our camp site, searching.


　　I take a sniff of the air, her scent is too faint. The next moment, I'm on my feet walking towards the tree she was standing against.


　　I notice a piece of paper struck to it with a knife. I tug it off and unfold it. If you want your little whore back, come by the waterfall. Take your Sweet time. We'll be sure to take ours with her, stare at the note, mind and face equally blank. The scent of it is vaguely


　　A low growl escapes my throat as my hand curls in a fist, crumpling the note. The pain in my head recedes as white hot rage consumes my mind. No, he wouldn't dare touch her.


CHAPTER 40